What can I say about Lothlorien that can even come close to describing the experience, the place, the people, the magick…??? Words seem hardly adequate to illustrate the place for people whom have never been.
You wake to dew-damp woods, alive with bird song, sleepy tent whispers, and the scent of smokey embers. Time doesn’t belong here; watches are forgotten, an relic of another world, another place. As your sleepy feet take you to the privy than to Jake’s Greasy Spoon (for coffee and festival donuts, of course) you catch snippets of conversation, anything from quantum physics, to the lastest Dr Who episode; from the best blend of incense to clear negitive energy, to how a peanut butter and jelly cordial is made. Jingle, jangle of ankle bells; pounding feet of children, free for the moment from society’s eyes; soft (or loud) moans of passion from a nearby tent. Beautiful people of all shapes, sizes and colors wander here and there wearing brightly colored sarongs, or perhaps a kilt…or even nothing at all…
You wander the circle and see all the pretty, shiny baubles for purchase: jewelry, alter goods, a full rainbow of sarongs and scarves, knives, drums, books, herb plants… A purchase here and there…trinkets to take home…memories you can hold in your hand.
Ah…it’s time for a shower…slatwood dividers, open air shower stalls with vines climbing the walls, pebbles cover the ground, water heated by the sun and a fire. Getting clean has never been so earthy. Making compost has a whole new meaning here, in this place… Compost Privies are a wonderful, but somewhat smelly, thing.
Do you want to watch the May Pole dance?? Or perhaps get a massage?? Just sitting around the smoldering fire, talking, bantering and laughing is a good way to pass the afternoon. The the sun begins to drop and the ‘bottles of wonder’ come out… Let’s play the “What Flavor Is This?” game with the unlabeled homemade cordials!!! Hmm…this one is Chocolate, or perhaps Mocha??? This one tastes like raspberry cough syrup…but in a good way!!
It’s dark now…the fire is blazing in Thunder!!! When will Bec spin her fire poi?? Maybe the guy with the fire staff with spin tonight!! Trance dancing around the blaze as the thump, thump, thwack of the drums slips into your heartbeat…your body moves, you can’t help it. It’s not a time to sit still…you sway, to and fro with the rhythm. It’s infectious.It’s very late…the moon is over head…You wander slowly back to your tent along dark wooded paths lit by candle light… You fall asleep to tribal drumming, the soft howling crackle of campfires, laughter, crickets and the gentle rustle of wind through leaves. Perhaps tomorrow night you will fall off the earth……..