Actually, the Shakespeare play for which Rose Robin is lining up in the rain is not the The Tempest, it’s Twelfth Night, but The Tempest seems an appropriate title for this post.

Waiting in line for free Shakespeare in the Park tickets is a summer ritual for NYCers of all ages and circumstances. You can readily identify those who are veterans of the process and have perfected the technique: they come prepared with folding chairs, playing cards, snacks, reading material, companions.

Also, on days like today, umbrellas, rain ponchos, tarpaulins.

The tickets are given out starting at noon, the park opens at 6 am, you have to figure out for yourself when, between those hours, you need to join the queue to minimize your wait time but maximize your chances.

You can also enter a lottery for tickets, but Rose Robin doesn’t like to rely on luck. She puts her faith in the magical formula of butt + pavement.

NYCers can be quite patient. They are very well behaved and friendly as long as all the rules of line-waiting are respected. One man offers Rose Robin the use of his chair.

Rose Robin scores!

By evening, the clouds have cleared. The Delacorte theater is like a little luminous oasis of enchantment in the middle of the park in the middle of the city, growing more jewel-like as night falls.

This production of Twelfth Night is all about bright color and upbeat music and inclusive community. The uplit trees behind the stage glow emerald against the sky and sway just a tiny bit with the first cool breeze in what seems like many months. It reaches the audience. It gently brushes Rose Robin’s face. What is that it’s bringing .. ?

Happiness.

Rose Robin is made from a worn-out suit of my husband’s, with paws cut from an old coffee-stained bedsheet. Her top is the cuff of a long-sleeved t-shirt, her pants are made from an old summer dress, and her shoes are made from a piece of leather donated by Wendy. Her very effective rain poncho is made from a gallon-sized Ziploc bag.

I say there is no darkness but ignorance.

—William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night