One by one, we wave goodbye to a radiant beam of playmates and bake in their void.
We wait for an echo but it never comes.
No one wants to go, even though most of us could not survive another round of fire. We played hard. We laughed more then we slept. We soaked in every minute, every beat of the playa.
Dehydrated and baste to perfection, for 3 hours we hold our place in 5 lanes of exodus.
We listen to Black Rock radio, massage our aching muscles, recount our wounds and smile.
We relish the ruckus, the romp, the sustainable fusion and the magnitude of art we had the privilege of interacting with.
We feel glued to the people we camped with, stood in line with, and danced with.
From nowhere a man, holding his young child, approaches our car and asks if we would like some coffee.
He is not selling coffee, he is offering us HIS coffee. He wants to make certain that we, perfect strangers, remain alert on our long journey home.
He offers us something strong. Something to look back on...
A white cargo van inches its way up the right lane.
The driver rolls down his window and out POP 2 sets of adoring eyes. Slick auburn hair, wide grins and long, sculpted noses - this team of miniature pinchers are begging to be noticed.
I bolt out of my seat and greet them with gusto. Since pets are NOT permitted on the playa, this is a HUGE treat!
I welcome their licks and their sniffs. I tickle their belly, rub the base of their tail and scratch that extra sweet spot just behind their ears.
I miss my dogs. I miss the simple joy they bring. I am reminded of the love, loyalty and devotion they so freely give.
Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, the driver offers us a klondike bar. A cold, refreshing, milky sweet treat! Ice cream to top off a weeks worth of yummy good decadence.
A sparsely clad girl, with long, wind whipped hair, approaches our car and asks if we would like a black rock from the black rock desert. I silently wonder if this is ALLOWED, then quickly snatch the golf ball sized stone.
In this time of exodus, these gifts are more valuable then any gem.
A treasure map of pleasures, seared into our soul, proves that it was real.
When it is our turn to hit the pavement, we look both ways, then back again.
Our shadow grows tall, as the sun sets west. We will be back.
If you paint it in broad strokes... it is physically and emotionally exhausting. It is remorselessly cruel and challenging. It is brutal.
But if you step closer... you'll see it is invigorating, validating, profoundly stimulating, fiercely delightful, fun.
The creativity that fuels this city churns 365 days a year.
It is dictated by the transcendental importance of our soul.
It is encapsulated in the hearts of those longing to be heard, to be seen, to be true, and to be one.
This is Burning Man.
photo's by Green Monkey
Green Monkey Tales © 2010 Shannon E. Kennedy
Here is a fun Burning Man 2010 video guaranteed to make you smile.
Great Job KJ and Stefan!