The 1890s Festival: The Day Before

Today is the day before the one-day festival that ascends on sleepy, old McIntosh each year.

The street in front of the McIntosh Hotel is usually quiet, even with the Post Office situated just catty-corner from it.

Today, instead of being able to leisurely roll down Avenue G toward Harmony Learning Center to pick up Dominic, I found myself having to park three blocks away and walk into the heart of town because the roads were blocked with vendors setting up for the big event.

And, as you read that, it may feel like a complaint, but I was absolutely tickled.

There is something about the bustle of Festival Day that just thrills me. In the two short years we've lived in McIntosh, I've grown accustomed to its sleepiness, but I still very much relish the juxtaposition of this one day each year.

Here are some scenes from today for your enjoyment. Naturally, they do little to convey the excitement, but hopefully they demonstrate the proximity of the festival to the Hotel.

Life of the Trees

For nearly the last two years, I've been searching for the best adjective to describe the trees of McIntosh.

And it seems to me that the adjective changes with the seasons, the time of day, the mood I'm in.

It seems to me the trees here are majestic and graceful, but also creepy AF.

This one is on the corner across from the Hotel.

And you can't tell it from this photo, but there's a giant gaping hole in the other side of it. A hole big enough to reach your arm down into if you're crazy like that. A hole so big a small child could jump down into it. A hole so big kind, tree-loving people like myself have to reach into to get trash out of from time to time, sadly.

This tree, especially in the golden hour of the day, is most lively. All those ferns growing on her are lush and green and angling for the most sun and rain. And everything has this beautiful golden hue to it. And no matter how I try, I can never capture the essence of that hour in a photograph.

But tonight, out walking the dogs, I saw it in the light from the street lamp and this tree looked so different. Tonight, she looks too still - asleep maybe - eerie for sure.

There's something about daylight hours on these trees that really accentuates the life of them all. There is a sense of movement in the daylight that, in this moment tonight, is completely gone.

Although, I don't know why that makes the trees eerie. I'm devoid of movement at night when I sleep too. Perhaps what I'm witnessing is actually just the tree and the ecosystem thriving on it getting a full night's rest for the busy day ahead.

Speaking of rest, I ought to do the same.