I recently attended a Celtic festival in Bristol borough.
The festival took place in a small park located on the Delaware river. I didn’t realize there was a park located behind the wooden awning that shelters the entrance to the river. I now know that it’s the host for weekly concerts and summertime festivals.
There were dozens of stands with stuff to buy jewelry, t-shirts, paintings and more. My favorite was Lolli Molly Bows. The display of bright pink, green and purple tutus, bows and butterfly wings brought out the little girl in me and for a moment made me wish my daughter was 2 and not 20.
In addition to trinkets and t-shirts, there were home-made goodies, hand-made crafts, and the chance to enter a raffle for a painting sponsored by the Bristol Cultural and Historical Foundation, the guardians of local history and tradition.
The atmosphere was lively and warm, laughter and the rise and fall of simultaneous conversations circled around me. I delighted in watching friends unite with hugs and handshakes.
Of course no festival would be complete without the obligatory moon walk, sweet roasted corn, fresh squeezed lemonade, and the perennial favorite, funnel cake. The Tornado Potato was a new one to me, I think next time I’ll have to sample the spiral of fried potato slices on a stick.
A family band played and danced on the pavilion made into a stage the lilting sound of irish ballades filled the air. The grass was speckled with lawn chairs and summer hats.
I stopped for a moment and caught a snippet of conversation.
“Daddy, after the moon walk can we get funnel cake?” a small voice asked.
“Of course we can, let’s get some lemonade too.” was the deep response.
In that instant, I realized I could have been anywhere in the world or at least anywhere in the US. People are the same wherever you go. The accents or physical appearance may make us seem different from one another, but we’re really not so different after all.