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Closing Weekend of Ren Fest - Part 2
Nov. 7th, 2006 11:20 pmOK, now we get to the non-joust portions of the weekend. The melancholy, the joy, the laughter, the tears, the colors, the songs, smells, and friends. The 2006 season of the festival has passed. It was a good one.
( Weekend 9 )
Mental Pictures of the weekend (in no particular order) - Jack Rackham singing behind the Jack-O-Lantern. The pile of my friends sitting on each others laps with great amusement and glee in the front row of the pub. The setting sun casting its beams of lights through the changing leaves and dustmotes. Being surrounded by death and using that to affirm our connection with those who have passed. The look of amazement on a patron's face when they realize that yes, we are directing traffic for the privy line. The look of love in Java's face and the power of his arms around me. The longing and joy and love in Jack's wife sitting on the stairs at Pub Sing that last night. The glee of friends as they dance together. The pride of the joust horses as they strut in the gates. The eagerness of a child as they behold the wonder that is Revel Grove.
Later that week, we lost one of our own. The man who made the beautiful mugs that I drink from passed away. They were able to hold a memorial on site for him (which I was not able to make). We raise to him the parting glass and think upon the days of wonder that we have shared.
here's my hand my trusty firends and gie me a hand o thine, we'll drink a right good willie wought to our days in Revel Grove.
( Weekend 9 )
Mental Pictures of the weekend (in no particular order) - Jack Rackham singing behind the Jack-O-Lantern. The pile of my friends sitting on each others laps with great amusement and glee in the front row of the pub. The setting sun casting its beams of lights through the changing leaves and dustmotes. Being surrounded by death and using that to affirm our connection with those who have passed. The look of amazement on a patron's face when they realize that yes, we are directing traffic for the privy line. The look of love in Java's face and the power of his arms around me. The longing and joy and love in Jack's wife sitting on the stairs at Pub Sing that last night. The glee of friends as they dance together. The pride of the joust horses as they strut in the gates. The eagerness of a child as they behold the wonder that is Revel Grove.
Later that week, we lost one of our own. The man who made the beautiful mugs that I drink from passed away. They were able to hold a memorial on site for him (which I was not able to make). We raise to him the parting glass and think upon the days of wonder that we have shared.
here's my hand my trusty firends and gie me a hand o thine, we'll drink a right good willie wought to our days in Revel Grove.