It is days like this when living in the petite-bourgeoisie paradise of Seattle can seem a wonder. It was one of those days when the best intentions of common people have triumphed.
Marvel upon marvel unfolded for the photographer's keen eye... all strummed to the tunes of some down home banjo picking. It was the chaotic, free-for-all that is the Seattle Folklife Festival, held every Memorial Day.
Picturesque jug bands in abundance lighten the spirits. I think this is one of the better photos I've ever taken... all done by sheer coincidence, of course.
A sprinkling of mimes adds a touch of odd spirit... these two women would stand motionless for a minute at a time.
Another band had quite the assorted lineup... with gramps on bass,
and the kid almost stealing the show.
I have a notable weakness for the well played mandolin and keen harmonies of bluegrass gospel music.
If the music is sad enough to bring out a brimming tear, that means it's been played right. Thank you, Seattle Folklife Festival.
I guess publishing children's books really isn't all that different from busking with a cap in hand when you get right down to it.