There are those who say that Prague is the City of 1000 Steeples. Others—perhaps in quotation of a book—have been heard to call it the City of Black and Gold. Prague is many things, quite often a city of fire: brilliant fireworks displays may blossom—inexplicably—on a random Tuesday night, or even a Monday. Bonfires will sprout like strange, luminous plants on the islands dotting the Vltava River. The air—most often clogged with the noise of trams and scented with a tinge of automotive flatulence—will carry hints of rhythmic drum-born thunder. You may hear snippets of singing. When spoken, Czech possesses an uncommon musical quality, when sung, the language (if you understand it) can stir passions at slumber in your blood. On the Night of Burning Witches, passion ran the course of the Vltava in the colors of fire and wine, fire and beer. Everything smelled like kerosene and smoke—and human sweat if you were drawn close enough. Another element of Prague shook itself from slumber that night. Fire-twirlers had colonized Kampa Island and musicians went with them. Dancers followed, and after a while...spectators armed with camera-phones and other digital recorders. It was the dance of fire that drew everyone like moths. Among those gathered, a few devout followers of the Christian faith reenacted a favorite pastime, burning witches: only this time, they were made of straw. They formed their procession, dropping straw witches and brooms into the flames with child-like reverence. In their way, they fed the dance of light, but it was the fire-twirlers and musicians who fed the spirit. There will come a time when I call Moscow my home, and spoken Russian will fill my ears. I will miss the sound of Czech, though Russian holds its own, somewhat glutinous, beauty. There will come a time when I search for bonfires and flame-twirlers. Maybe I will find them. Maybe I will not. But one thing stands certain... I will remember Witch Burning Night in Prague, and the gleefully defiant pagan spirit that revealed itself. It filled my mind with images to remember, as generously as two friends, and a fire twirler filled my belly with wine. *** This is the third of three images I'd intended to post in regard to the night of burning witches here in Prague. A lot happened in a short time on that night, and I hope that this image, and its two predecessors give some feeling of that. The images are largely untouched, though I have added a diffusion filter to give a more dream-like, intentionally unclear impression. As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting.