Green Man 2

The wind is whipping in over the beacons, which is worrying. No rain though. That appears to have passed with no more than a desultory trickle into my tent, miraculously landing directly on top of my TP-link power bar. Incredibly it still works absolutely fine. That thing has now survived being dragged behind a car, being run over, and lying for hours in a puddle. I feel a little bit like it must feel though. One of my tent poles snapped just now collapsing the sleeping section entirely. I have mended it with gaffer tape and hope. I’m having a 1pm beer, relaxing after a cosmic massage, horrified at the prospect of 4 more nights in that canvas disaster area, but too stubborn to get my other tent from the van. Oh Al.

A miracle worker called Rose gave me a holistic massage to die for earlier. I was breezing through the healing fields seeing what’s what and wondering if they had tarot and how much. Check out the rivals… She wanted to get started and offered me a first day deal. I took it, and good God I’m glad I did. Time stopped. I lay face down, occasionally grunting as her hands located all the crap I’ve been storing up and magically dissipated it. Time went weird. As I lay there, entire civilisations were born, prospered, were infected by hubris, and crumbled to nothing. My only conscious memory of the time on that table was to notice she has her festival wristband on her ankle. It was bliss. Apparently it was only half an hour that I lay there. In that time she reminded me how to fly. It’s why the collapsing tent isn’t bothering me right now. What does it matter, now I have wings? If it blows down I can shelter beneath my wings, yes?

I take a moment to speak to the palmist. Jake, I think. He seems still, solid, sad. His wife died recently. I can see they used to be a partnership in this. He has a little gazebo and still works the festival circuit alone. “I can see your yesterdays and your tomorrows,” the sign proclaims. Bold claim. We talk for a while about how people crave the human part of this sort of interaction. Is it necessary to dress it up in oojie-boojie? I mean, yes there are more things in heaven and earth. But…

We compare favourite festivals. He seems sad. There’s a gap next to him. I find myself wondering if his wife did cards, but I decide not to ask.

IMG_20180816_114037.jpgThe sun is trying. Try little sun, try! I’m in line for a relaxing day today. The party starts properly tomorrow, but now it’s the end of the season and I’m running low on party so the plan is to take care of myself, as much as possible whilst living in a field. Despite the lunchtime beer. I might go into site, put a cloth on a table and talk to some strangers for a bit. It seems the time for that sort of thing. I’ve just got to hope that my tent is still here when I get back.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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