How to dance the weather, and why? This impossible task brings us to the limit of representation and to the infinite capacity of the body to hold abstraction. In The weather in Times Square, today, five dancers access the rhythms, relations and movements of the weather. They are a rolling cloud slowly traversing the sky; they are the rain pattering on the roof. Their literal attempt to dance the weather transforms them into a non-human group, a slowly moving sculpture. And yet, they insist on language as a tool to describe and to challenge the weather. Abstraction is transformed into words and words are exchanged. Eventually we see the weather is a way of looking, a way of feeling, an encounter with the other—something beyond us, continuously undoing us. As we converse, as we come together in the theatre, as we move through life, we are moving with, and as, the weather.