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Fairy Camp

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Four days of camping, music, and unshaven men and women. Everyone has their own story, and most everyone has a tattoo that takes up a large portion of their body. These people are referred to as hippies, but I call them Funkadelic Festivarians. With their tents and V-w Busses, they swarm for a foot stompin good time, when the music stops they disperse just as quickly. The men have scraggly beards that tickle their chests, and they wear handmade patchwork pants and Birkenstocks. Most lose their shirts and by the end of the weekend their chests are bright red; some even have white hand prints from falling passing out in the open. The women wear long flowing dresses that reach for their bare muddy toes and hand crafted jewelry. Some have chosen the life style of hairy legs and dreadlocks, but those are just the really dedicated ones. I know a lot of people take this extreme boogien and passing out in random places to be undignified and stereotypical, but I can assure you that most ( I will admit some are scuzz balls) of us all have jobs and a house, we do not live in the woods and come running when we hear music. All of us just know how to have a good time and when we need a break we take it. Strange? Maybe, but this is normal for me.
Scott and I have three dogs. Sista is the oldest and is short and like a big rollie pollie; I will make note that her name is not sister, it is sista with some flare. Then there is Sophia; we also call her Boogie, she is a lap dog with white fur, but I sometimes give her pink Mohawks. Luna is last, she is a little yorky and the perfect size to dress up. We all pile into our home on wheels and join in on the swarm, and meet up with our fellow fairies. Fairies are what we call ourselves, just for fun. The fairies are our same group of friends that meet up at each concert. Out of our tents and busses we form a circle in the field. We make a large fire pit in the dead center, and then my favorite part comes. I pull out our fairy camp sign. I made it myself. I used a square piece of wood painted it white and in rainbow letters wrote Fairy Camp. Also so everyone knows what we are I wrote the definition of a fairy bellow: a small winged human, with pointy ears, and hold the powers of nature in thyeir pouch of dust. I hang tie dye blankets from our homes canopy to create shade for the people who have partied hard. I set out chairs for a promising future of a drum circle. If a drum circle does burst out, ill grab my base and jam with em.

I make my own clothes just for these occasions. Mainly dresses; most here like long, but short is more me. I have made a few dresses for the little fairies. I love to see them run around and have the dress flowing behind their dirty feet. I have big yellow rain boots for when the sky decides to cry, but otherwise I go barefoot, maybe flip flops but I feel freer when my toes can wiggle. Lots of jewelry always adds to a cool look and body glitter is always fun too. My long black hair waves down my back and it looks great with a feather in it. Feathers are kinda my thing, you will rarely find me without one braded into my curls. I even started a Facebook page called The Feather Friends. To really pull off the fairy look I bring wings. I have tons: purplish black ones, white ones, even lady bug wings.

The really good bands are later in the day so I bring lots of stuff to pass the time. The sun is always shining bright so I need to stay busy or I could fry. I braid the little ones’ hair and bring face paints to give each one a different fairy face. The shops are always fun to look around in. From the tie dye shops to the hemp necklaces, I always find something that brings out my inner fairy. One of the stand owners name is Mark; he’s a good friend and him and his wife always make the best incense. The little ones like to go up near the stage and play games. Some have giant hula hoops that when stood on their sides are taller than me, but that’s still not saying much. There is a creek that giggles and wiggles between the trees along down the hillside, when the sun gets too hot I go and stick my feet in the trickling water with the clay and slippery rocks gushing between my toes.

When the sun sets behind the mountain the jammin begins. To get the best out of it I go straight up front, I mean right next to the stage where I can almost touch the persons feet. You meet the craziest people here, but the crazies are the ones with the best stories. I get smacked in the back of the head with a glow stick from time to time, but it’s all cool I just pick it up and throw it again. Everyone has a glow stick when it gets dark. One time I saw this dragon that a person had made entirely out of glow sticks, even had fire coming out of its mouth. Dancing here isn’t butt to groin; it’s more like an Irish jig mixed with a fish. So it involves a lot of swaying hips and arms in unison with stomping feet. But I still follow the 8 second rule, I do a move for 8 seconds and then move on to the next, I don’t wanna wear out a move that’s just not cool. Just before everyone begins their journey back to their tents, I get out my tea candles. So none of the fairies get lost and they have a warm welcoming back home, I make a path out of twinkling candles leading them in the right direction. I place the leftovers throughout our campsite. When the dew begins to fall the candles’ flames shimmer against the wet blades of grass and give fairy camp a heartwarming effect. The fairies return and we all sit around the fire sharing in a family bonding time, before everyone goes to their tents, busses, or cots. I stay up a little later for the stars. Stars are always brighter in the mountains where the city lights can’t block em out. Lying next to Scott we look for all the constellations. We usually only find the big dipper before we pass out though.




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