Off The Cuff Archive

It rained off and on for two of three days of the festival. By Saturday, it was impossible to wander through the park without getting your feet muddy. High traffic areas had been sprinkled with straw and hay, and I knew several vehicles would be spinning tires at the end of the day to get out of the soft parking spaces they had backed themselves into.

 Everything, even the overall mood, was soggy. Fifteen minutes before the parade, it was pouring. Then, just as the judges gathered around the flat bed announcer’s truck along the side of Rt. 33, the sun showed its face. By the time the parade started, the announcer’s chairs were dry, the road was dry, and the temperature had risen at least 10 degrees.

For the rest of the day, until the evening storms arrived, the weather was beautiful. The mud began taking on a lighter shade of dry, and the hay stopped sticking to the soles of your shoes.

The Lions Club announcer called bingo, and old men squeezed cane and boiled sorghum into molasses. People gathered in the sun around the cement dance slab and stage to witness the debut of a new local band.

 Candidates running for state senate shook hands and listened and nodded, and pageant queens worked fundraiser booths in their sashes and crowns. Raffle winners were called out over the microphone almost every hour inside the building where the walls were decorated with colorful quilts that surrounded the room with stitched displays of patched rainbows.

 Everywhere you looked, someone was ordering, eating or serving food. Spirits lifted with the sunshine, and throughout the park, groups gathered to visit, catch up, and reminisce.

 Dealing with weather is a part of rural life; an integral connection to the land around us. The weather played an intricate role in this year’s festival, not only by softening the grounds, but also with its treatment of this year’s cane crops, which produced less sap this year for production.