An hour after dawn, around the recently installed sacred stones where the non-sleepy assembled around smoky fires.
I loitered here before heading to the Green Field where a collective of musicians rotated through songs and instruments weaving folk tunes to the early morning.
There's a magic in an ephemeral town, assembled for just four days. As we left finally left on Sunday, we looked behind at the grass where our tent had been pitched. Nothing remained.
Love the farm, leave no trace.
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