Tanzanite

Mean Monsoon catches them in the act of being pummeled—seed-heavy plumes bent sideways, red hot poker and blue sage whipped through a torrential downpour. The palette is deliberately unruly: turquoise, rust, violet, acid green and midnight blue collide as sky and earth lose their boundaries. In the upper corner, rain seems to leap from the sky and thunder down over an orange hillside. The whole landscape wears the cold sheen of a storm. This is not rain as gentle nourishment, but weather as an event—wildflowers windspanked, drenched, and somehow still standing.