The third day dawned sunny and bright, giving us ample time to spread our damp campsite out to the warmth of the sun. Today I would shop and visit and wander and write.

It was a very relaxing day, we skipped stones… Well… Joshua and Dryden skipped stones… Sydney and I tossed stones and made them go “plunk”. I never was very good at the “side arm skip technique”. I found a lovely beaded and coined tie-on tank top to wear for the few minutes I remain clothed around the drumming fires. And there was a beautiful embroidered belt that I will have to guard jealously as Sydney matures, otherwise, I know it will find it’s way into her clothing bin. And there were so many other things that I wanted to buy but I refrained. Joshua purchased a strap on…. NO you guys! A strap to hold on his drum as he stands to play. Just thought I would tease everyone :) Dyrden, surprisingly, didn’t purchase any knives… I’ve told him he needs to purchase a locking cabinet before he gets another knife. He loves to collect them, which I allow, except we have so many babies and other kids in our home, I want them locked up for safty. As it is now, I make him close his door and keep everyone out of his room.

By mid afternoon, we were all ready for the clouds of the days before. The mountains get so hot so quick, closer to the sun maybe?? So we all retreat to our camp site, I curl up with my book of shadows and write the chants and other items I’ve gathered to become part of my permanent witchcraft records. For those not in the know, a Book of Shadows is  a type of journal kept by witches. Each one is unique from what I hear, but as the name imply’s, I have not seen many. Most people keep them private and only share with very few others. Sometime a coven (a group of witches that practice together) will have a common Book of Shadows. In my immeadiate family, I am the only one who keeps a Book of Shadows. Next year at the festival, Dryden will go through a ritual and will receive his own Book of Shadows at that time. And the same with Sydney, once she has become a woman, she will get one as well.

Anyways, we all spent the afternoon in various activities of our own choosing. The kids went to swim in the lake, challenging each other to games of chase the ducks and who could hold their breathe the longest. Toward the late evening, I painted my face and Joshuas and we spent time roasting marshmallows with the kids. I love their faces covered in sticky goo, smiles plastered just as tight as the burnt sugar from one ear to the next. They are devine… at times that is… Laugh! Of course they are just kids and not gods, but it is wonderful to recognize the purity still present in them sometimes.

 Once they are settled in the tent, modern children that they are, with a portable DVD player and their Nintendo Ds’s, we start our trek to the fire circle.

The walk is slow but sure footed. We have both stayed away from the fire during the previous two nights but it is Friday and the drums are beating and pulling us both onward. The entrance to the Circle area is a wooden archway of sorts and just as we approach it, I stop. I squeeze hard on Joshua’s hand, and he uses his free arm to wrap around me, his hand warm, touching my waist under my cloak. “I love you, this is differnt this time, ok?” he says into my hair. “Yes, I love you too” I reply and I try to take a deep breathe but my chest is compressed and tight none the less.

For those who have not read before, last year at the fire circle, I screamed at Joshua and he shoved me for the first and only time in our marriage. Never before and never since. Things were so bad then. I didn’t believe then that we would ever have the chance to walk hand in hand back to the fire circle. So to approach the circle this time was a beginning, it held special meaning.

I think we both let go of the other at the same time and started to pass under the wooden archway. I started to sway before I could even feel the heat of the bon fire. And I closed my eyes, and I was home and I wasn’t scared. I opened them agian to take in the site of the glowing bodies dancing in rhythm to drums with no words, to no other instruments besides the jingle of tiny bells, swirling fabric and shuffling feet. I love this part of the festival the most, the freedom of self, the swinging movement of hips and breasts, the reaching and retreat from flames. Some …. their faces covered with masks, horns attached to their heads, wearing nothing else. Some dressed fully in fabrics of bright colors, hair tangled, faces drawn to honor the gods. Beauty in every shape, woman blessed as a doni, bodies full to the point of excess. Breasts small, large, bodies painted, sleek, sweaty. Men haired and unhaired, cut and uncut, some pierced, some tattooed, some natural in their unadornment. (Ok, cheezy as it sounds, think Matrix three, the dance in the caves of Zion.) The night air outside the ring of bodies, 4 and 5 people deep, drops in temperature dramatically, the inner area warmed by the dancing of those around you.

I smile, maybe only to myself because it is so dark only I know it is there on my face, I smile and know at that moment it is finally ok again.