The Twilight People

Pennsic this year felt like was over before it even began.

When I got to Pennsic this year, it felt like last Pennsic never ended... in a good way. It was as if my life was put on pause last August and everything that has happened this year has just been a part of one big intermission, filling in the gaps and pushing time along. When Pennsic started again, life resumed.

It's an eerie experience, a pleasant sort of deja-vu. Same lake, same good company, same walk up the hill to work. Same shops, same food, same customers. Just like last year, the sun would set and the smoke would rise like an old friend and linger until the morning light. Some of the people I met last year weren't there, but it didn't feel as if they were gone, just that they'd stepped out for a minute and they would be back soon.

Weirdly enough, now that I’m home I almost miss the drumming of Vlad's. After a few days at Pennsic, you stop hearing the drums - they just fade into the atmosphere, become a part of your heartbeat, lull you to sleep. As I sit in my bedroom writing this I feel a certain sense of loss, as if the quiet night isn’t quite as peaceful when it’s not marred by that steady rhythm. 

Last year I couldn’t wait to go home, I basically ran to the airport. This year, I was grasping at the moments, watching tents collapse and the dust rise as people filed away down the dirt roads around us. I didn’t want it to leave, I had so much more to do and so many people to hug; I had poetry to write and walks to go on and carp to feed. But, as usual, by the time we left, it wasn’t Pennsic anymore - it was just Cooper’s Lake Campground. Pennsic had faded back to that twilight realm, waiting for us all to return. I suppose I’m now existing in the space between Pennsics, and next July my life will resume.

A follower of my Tumblr, tales-of-wulfric, posted this in response to my above feelings, and I think it's a beautiful way to end this post:

Welcome home sister. For those who share this dream are brothers and sisters of a kind. Now we make the 50 week town run but our eyes are already set ahead. So Merry meet, and merry part, and merry meet again.

A handsome (and happy) fencer. Kieran woke up at 7:30 each morning to practice with Igor.

Preparing for midnight madness. I wrote sooo many signs. I look grumpy, but I loved it.

A lone origami boat sailing through our flooded shop.