every September, since I was 7, my father has packed up the car and taken my brother and I to the Walnut Valley Festival, in southeastern Kansas. My father and stepmother can still be described as giddy during this time of year.
and it is, for my brother and I, an annual no-miss event.
it involves bluegrass and flatpicking. campfires and walnut trees. coffee in the morning and beer all afternoon. indian tacos. baked potatoes & corn-on-the-cob from a stand. meals from a camp stove. fireside chats & long walks around the campgrounds. afternoons listening to the sleepy sounds of guitars, mandolins & banjos being played all around.
the oh-be-joyfulness of these times is hard to describe. but the friends that I've brought along from time-to-time, have become instant lifetime fans.
but I'm back now. after a week of funtimes. and I've caught up on my sleep. and I'm back in the real world. on to enjoying Fall.