Evening in the Meadow

Day 7

Maybe it won’t rain tonight.

There were clouds up there this afternoon. Pretty, fluffy white ones, like a flotilla of ships all aimed in the same direction. They seemed to increase in number as the day progressed; around 5 p.m. some were looking sort of dark on the bottom. But it’s nighttime now, and I’m seeing stars.

Javier spent the day soliciting contributions for his big fajita feed tomorrow. When he got back to camp I made him a sandwich. Dorothy and J.C. Hammond stopped by to peruse an old photo album Javier brought to Kerrville this year. It’s full of old, faded pictures of a festival-sponsored trip to Puerto Vallarta, which happened before I met Javier. He and Dorothy were on that trip. I’m not sure about J.C. or Dan Greenlee, but they had fun looking at the pictures, too.

Now Javier is chilling out with Amazin’ Walter and Laurie, whose tent is just behind our tipi. The air is pleasantly cool; I just traded my summer dress for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Camp feels pretty lively tonight. People who’ve spent the past few days hiding from the weather are cutting loose. I hear music coming from several directions, along with snatches of conversation from various camps. Somebody must have said something funny at Camp Inertia, which just erupted with howls of laughter. The mud-slick paths that kept me close to camp last night are drying up nicely (caliche will do that if you give it a few hours of sun) and I think it may be safe to go cruising with my bassoon tonight.

I've been attending this festival since 1981. Some things haven't changed at all.