It was as if all the flavors of the earth were out to play in the May sunlight.
I’ve lived in Minneapolis for over five years now, but somehow didn’t get over to experience the May Day parade and revelries near Powderhorn Park. This year my daughter Leah was pretty insistent. I HAD to be a part of this. She was right.
The parade begins before the parade begins. Rounding the corner onto the street where the parade was going to pass, I was treated to the sight of blocks of people on their hands and knees drawing on the street with chalk. The barricades were up, the cars were gone, and the play began. Every manner of bike tooled past. Costumes meant to celebrate spring were worn. There were ribbons dancing and bodies freed from months of hiding from the cold.
The parade itself, when it passed us, was a story wrought by Heart of the Beast creativity. Every year there is a theme. This year it was how it is we are called to build a better world through a compassionate global economy (at least that’s what I got from it). The story was told by an array of enthusiastic folk willing to give time and talent and energy to tell a story that needs telling.
I sat in the sun. Leaning up against my guy, nestled next to my eldest, immersed in the celebration that is life, glad to be alive and embodied and ready to play.