The main stage of High Sierra Music Fest surrounded
by the majestic Sierra Nevada Mountains.
Photo by Simone.
Be a magician of time. Bend it, stretch it, shrink it.
That was the notation on my day planner today. The relevance couldn’t have been better timed.
After a 5 day stint at the High Sierra Music Festival, I’m still blowing fog out of my brain, limping through land mines of laundry, shaking dirt and sand from all the camping equipment, and bracing myself for the legendary tantrums erupting from my overly tired children.
Here we are, a matter of days out from departure for Oaxaca, and I wonder why I do that to myself, year after year. Is the week long recovery worth it, when I blow off responsibility for 5 full days to reveal in music, friends and sunshine?
Abso-freaking-lutely.
Photo by Justin Halgreen
Music floating on a warm, summer night with a light show that reaches up and joins mother nature in an expansive sky wide dance of color, while holding my baby in my arms. That’s a moment that swells to contain more life than I can fit into a month of regular days.
Watching my babies parade through the sunlight aglow with sequins and painted faces, being followed by a larger than life Jerry Garcia puppet strumming his guitar. Heart melt.
Shaking the should’s, could’s and would’s out of the depths of my soul and riding that jazzy, funky, horn and sax, down my thighs, legs and feet right into the ground beneath my being? Rooted here now. in. this. moment. Yes please.
Climbing into my husband’s arms as a lover and not the mother of his children or secretary of his business, or knower of his flaws, but just a woman wrapped intimately in his embrace? Again, yes please.
Laughing so deeply passerby’s can’t help but stop and join in my belly roar, not knowing what was so funny in the first place. Tears leaking out my face from the giggles bubbling up directly from my life force.
Feeling interconnected to the entire planet by stepping over my tired old brain, and into my physical body which is in tune with not only the musical rhythm, but every other living, breathing thing around me?
Photo by David Barry
Photo by Alice Wiegand
Late night magic with March Fourth Marching Band, one of my all time favorites.
Photo by Moni Pony
Having the Westfalia made all the difference. Being able to cook your own breakfast and sleep off the ground takes it to an all new level of awesome.
Serafina celebrating her first High Sierra at 3 months old.
Notice the wax ear plugs in her ears–she slept better there than at home!
Yea. That’s why I do it.
The laundry, it’ll wait.
Throw those babies into the bath, give them one last bribery scoop of ice cream after dinner and put them in bed early.
Well get these projects done, and then we’ll pack our bags to launch our next adventure.
But until then, I indeed will call in the magicians of time to get me through these next few days. Maybe a beer with tomato juice too.
The first words Jaxon croaked out on Monday morning: “Momma, I don’t want High Sierra to be over,” sleep still audible in his little voice. Me neither baby, but we’ll be back next year.
Next July, for a few magical days, we gather with 10,000 of our closest friends and celebrate being alive. We’ll drink too much, let the kids roam a small square of land and dance until the wee hours of the morning. For four glorious days, we’ll do whatever we want, whenever we want.
Every year I think, why isn’t every day more like this?
For information on the High Sierra Music Festival, hosted annually in our hometown of Quincy, visit their website here. Tell them the Wild Child crew sent you!
