One of my favorite things is to attend local festivals. This is humanity at its best. Something magical happens when community comes together to share in the beauty of the local surroundings such as a sunflower crop of the Beaver Dam Sunflower Festival nestled deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
We saw this same group joy and comradery while visiting Shasta Mountain, California. Stopping at the Shasta Visitor center we encountered a cheerful lady welcoming us. “Oh, you’re here for the Blackberry Festival.” She concluded. Actually, we came to hike but tell us more about this festival. We learned that there would be plenty of blackberry pie and live music. We also learned about a beautiful hike to an Alpine meadow. She encouraged us to take extra bottles with us because the fresh water from the meadow stream was clean and some of the best tasting mineral water in the world.
After we got our camp site all set up, we headed over to the small-town park to see what a Blackberry festival was all about. We met kind people who had spent countless hours making blackberry pies. They were from scratch and amazingly delicious. We ate pie and listened to country folk music.
The hikes were peaceful and amazingly beautiful. The majesty of standing in a green alpine meadow at 11,000 ft with a drinkable creaking flowing spring still takes my breath away. Wow! I can still feel the peculiar breeze of the thin air across my cheeks and the sound of the slow trickle of the stream. The realization that we were on the face of an ancient volcano looming high above still gives me a thrill.
We loved this area so much it was in the top two spots we were considering settling for our retirement.
The number one spot that won out was, of course, Virginia. Sipping Chai tea and listening to Phat Boys Band play all our favorite old bluesy rock tunes, I looked out over the vast field of fully blooming Sunflowers and enjoyed the peace and beauty of the moment.
The relaxed feeling reminded me of another festival we enjoyed. The Berkshires Jazz Festival in the mountains of Massachusetts in the summer of 2019. It was pre-pandemic and blissful. We ordered pizza from the spot across the street from the park and ate it while listening to one of the best jazz singers ever. She may not have been famous but she brought plenty of talent to the park that day.
Surrounded by sunflowers and the Blue Ridge Mountains the band finished up a song. The crowd was relaxed and friendly. An old man wearing a Vietnam veteran hat and kind eyes came over to offer to throw away my empty water bottle. Looking into his eyes as I thanked him I knew I was not the only one who felt the joy of the day.
Rejuvenated I made my way once again to the craft vendors. I met some wonderful and creative folks. I found a couple of beautiful hand painted pendants and met the artist named Cheryl. I bought some more locally made apple vinegar from Joseph. I got some last year and loved it. This year I bought two bottles. The vendors were fun and friendly. The whole festival was so well put together with lovely details like wreaths on the barn – so Virginia.
The thing that sticks in my mind the most, though, is the people. I wonder if the folks here at the Sunflower Festival in Botetourt County, Virginia know how much that are like those attending Jazz festivals in the Berkshires of Massachusetts and Blackberry Festivals in the High Sierras of California. All love the mountains, music, being in a positive environment and mostly the freedom being Americans brings us. I count my blessings that I have witnessed so much joy in this nation from coast to coast and everywhere in between. So, if you see me running around town or country with a smile on my face just know that just maybe you were part of what put it there.
The only downside is that we have to wait a whole year to do it all again. Happy Fall, Y’all!
