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| the toadstools always draw interest |
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| a seedpod lantern |
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| the company assemble |
Moments of Beauty
a morning of stormwind and rain lifting into a cold, bright afternoon,
my mood after a sleepless night clearing with the weather,
seeing installations growing,
excitement brewing,
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| late afternoon sun catching a sun lantern |
sunset and crowds gather,
come one, come many, and more
ten becomes twenty, becomes fifty,
musicians arriving,
fifty becoming a hundred and more
the first beats of the drums,
samba shaking the bricks,
echoes bouncing off the old walls of Calke Abbey
a trail of lanterns through the trees
a hundred becoming two
too long a trail to see the end
but ti cherish the movement of lights through the trees
sunsetting behind old oaks,
the beat of the drums,
the sudden shift to fiddle and guitar,
the silence of the company lining an avenue of lime trees
to the huskiness of a native flute,
a wonder of lantern ghosts and carriage,
to watch the company fall in behind
holding a moment poised between noise and wonder
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| the company |
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| a ghostly lantern coach |
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| even after the event, the toadstools were causing trouble |
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