Today I love the cooling rain, its soothing wash of calm and sweet all over everything. I love how it has cleaned up our park a great deal, the dust and sand that has flown through the air all week is now sunk to its lowest depths and any new potential dust is stuck to the places it might have come from. I love that there is never a dull moment here at the forty-third annual Summerfolk festival site and that even as it rains people are finding sheltered busy work that will make things go quickly when the weather clears and we get back on the clock. I love that we have changed so many things about this park, and we will put it all back the way it was when we are done, but I also love that there are people who have only ever seen the park as festival, and will arrive after we make it so and leave before we change it back. I love the sweet, wet breeze that is blowing through this old familiar park, cleansing my soul and my heart and my mind and my lungs all at the same time. I love when I can work outside, no matter what I’m doing, ’cause outside feels so alive and real. I love when I can work outside in the winter, bundled up against the cold and doing whatever needs to be done in driveways and on roofs and porches, ’cause that too makes me feel alive. I love feeling alive, because the two alternatives are not feeling anything other than numb and stilled, and being dead.
Today I love how clean and clear the air is as the rain stops. I love that the haze of the past few days has been washed out of the sky at least for the moment. I love that the shore on the far side of the bay is as clear as an image seen through crystal. I love that the weather for the weekend is supposed to be perfect. I love that as I write this the weather is turning again and getting ready to wring the last of the rain and storm out of itself before giving us back a lush, green park in which to take in souls who long for happiness and find the ways that best suit to feed them that which will heal their souls.
Today I love when time heals and words can be exchanged with less pain. I love when people find that they can move back into a conversation and gather the produce it might offer and put the sting of its thorns into the past where they belong. I love people who know when they are ready, because not everyone is ready at the same time and some of us must learn to wait on ourselves … and on others.
Today I love coffee in the shelter of the main stage while I write.