Fading Out

It’s (was) that time of year. And having made the revolution around the sun back to “this” time of year again, I’ve only started to realize that this time may as well be any time. That might sound vague and blasphemous since this time of year has reached a near religious gravity where I’m from. And to spare the reader anymore pronouns and ambiguity, this time is Pumpkinfest.

I can’t disagree that it’s significant. This small town festival gathers people from various corners of the country annually, and culminates in a bunch of day drinking and an expansive parade. It may not be everyone’s thing, but it certainly is supposed to be if you’re from this town.

Having moved away and now traveled thousands of miles back for Pumpkinfest two years in a row(modest compared to some) I’ve decided to sign up for the biannual plan. I don’t have a problem with the festival itself, I have a problem with how I relate to it at this time in life.

Visiting home last year for it was a reprieve from the shock of a new environment, but this time around it hasn’t been a reprieve from anything. Having had some great times during the festival, the past few years have been spent chasing those fleeting feelings, and ultimately in vain.

I couldn’t be more blessed to be in a position to travel home in the middle of the year for a reason that outsiders of the community remain baffled…