This is a short little tale of my recent visit to a local mushroom festival. We don't get many good summers in Olympia, but this summer has been particularly great. Days have been in the mid to upper 80's and sunshine has been plentiful. This Saturday I was hoping for more pictures to lead the posts in my blog so I grabbed my Nikon and headed for the festival.
It was hot. It was almost unbearably hot. The fact that the festival was being held on an open athletic field, all the displays were in tents, and there was no breeze, really didn't help.
I saw this group as they wandered through the displays, bumping into them again at the fire truck where firemen were handing out red fire hats and stickers to the kids. Now, the three girls in question were not that young, I put them in the early to late teens. I suck at estimating ages though. It seems that any girl, even through the teens and into the 20's, like to have a handsome fireman give them a red, plastic firefighter hat. I remember my daughter was no different. One of these young ladies had fallen victim to the desire for the prized red fire hat. The firemen were accommodating and I wish I could have snapped a picture of the smile on her face as she gripped her prize and came back to the group.
I found myself with them again, behind me in line at the hot dog stand, and I struck up a conversation with the oldest of the girls. I found her eager to talk and very engaging. After getting our food, I asked their two chaperons if I might join them at the picnic table. The girls and I chatted a bit and I was shown the fire hat prize which she was so proud of. I asked the women in charge of the three ladies if they were part of a larger group at the festival. They were not. They were just having a girls day out.
I found out that they were know as "The Ladies at House 7" and immediately thought someone was missing an opportunity to put these ladies in several novels of mystery and adventure. I mean, really, think about it. The Ladies at House 7 and The Mystery of the Missing Firefighter.
You can almost feel the thunder and lightning, and hear the sound of a creaking door as the creepy organ music queuing up.
I asked if I could snap a picture of them and send it to their e-mail, knowing that I would not be able to use it on the blog without jumping through paperwork and guardian consent issues. After a few snaps I bid the ladies farewell and hurried home to hydrate myself with a cold beer (when I got there I opted for lemonade instead).
I reviewed the few moments with "The Ladies" as I cooled off, then downloaded the best photo and sent it on. I was surprised, more than a week later, when I received permission to use the photo for this short tale.
The entire moment spent with these young ladies lasted 30 minutes at most, and was the bright spot of the overheated festival. If you find yourself alone at a festival one day, search out someone interesting, that you don't know, and ask if you might join them. I don't do that often enough, but these ladies have made me promise myself to do it more.
I hope I see them again one day.
It was hot. It was almost unbearably hot. The fact that the festival was being held on an open athletic field, all the displays were in tents, and there was no breeze, really didn't help.
I saw this group as they wandered through the displays, bumping into them again at the fire truck where firemen were handing out red fire hats and stickers to the kids. Now, the three girls in question were not that young, I put them in the early to late teens. I suck at estimating ages though. It seems that any girl, even through the teens and into the 20's, like to have a handsome fireman give them a red, plastic firefighter hat. I remember my daughter was no different. One of these young ladies had fallen victim to the desire for the prized red fire hat. The firemen were accommodating and I wish I could have snapped a picture of the smile on her face as she gripped her prize and came back to the group.
I found myself with them again, behind me in line at the hot dog stand, and I struck up a conversation with the oldest of the girls. I found her eager to talk and very engaging. After getting our food, I asked their two chaperons if I might join them at the picnic table. The girls and I chatted a bit and I was shown the fire hat prize which she was so proud of. I asked the women in charge of the three ladies if they were part of a larger group at the festival. They were not. They were just having a girls day out.
I found out that they were know as "The Ladies at House 7" and immediately thought someone was missing an opportunity to put these ladies in several novels of mystery and adventure. I mean, really, think about it. The Ladies at House 7 and The Mystery of the Missing Firefighter.
You can almost feel the thunder and lightning, and hear the sound of a creaking door as the creepy organ music queuing up.
I asked if I could snap a picture of them and send it to their e-mail, knowing that I would not be able to use it on the blog without jumping through paperwork and guardian consent issues. After a few snaps I bid the ladies farewell and hurried home to hydrate myself with a cold beer (when I got there I opted for lemonade instead).
I reviewed the few moments with "The Ladies" as I cooled off, then downloaded the best photo and sent it on. I was surprised, more than a week later, when I received permission to use the photo for this short tale.
The entire moment spent with these young ladies lasted 30 minutes at most, and was the bright spot of the overheated festival. If you find yourself alone at a festival one day, search out someone interesting, that you don't know, and ask if you might join them. I don't do that often enough, but these ladies have made me promise myself to do it more.
I hope I see them again one day.
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