The night was over in the blink of an eye. I may have snatched a wink of sleep, I don’t know ‘cos I’m so excited. Let’s get out of this tiny tent. The poor little thing’s fluttering in the wind, I wonder if it’ll still be here when we come back. What the heck, I’m not here to rest!
Just look around. There are thousands here. A few wandering aimlessly about, some sitting hunched holding their heads after a heavy night, no doubt vowing never to drink again, or worse!
It’s starting to rain! It’s pouring! Listen, everyone’s cheering, after all, what’s a festival without mud?
The crowd’s moving. Come on. We need to be near the main stage.
Hey, listen. Guitars being tuned, drums being bashed and mikes being checked. One two testing, one two!
Here they come, they’re coming on stage! Yea!
Suddenly the sheer volume is driving everything from my mind. I’m swaying, swinging, spinning, singing. I look stupid, but who cares! I don’t.
It’s festival time – enjoy!
Sunday Photo Fiction is hosted by Susan Spaulding who also gave us this week’s photo.
Dance with the frog to see what others have made of it.