the leaf's blurred notation near the corner of the manuscript held by the second violinist when suddenly turned
is the leaf's smug sense before Brahms sees a drop of dew on it and zooms it to a downpour like in the 1999 total eclipse in Bavaria
(presumably there were downpours in Brahms' time, too)
another hare brained scheme for a vernacular hero
while the mucilaginous squalls in the minds of his fans recede to mere
icons
in time