partay was to start. You know- getting some snacks, picking up the washcloths from the laundromat, getting halloween decorations... It was one of those amazing October days, the air was crisp, the temperature was perfect, just-a-sweater-weather, the sun was shining. I was happy to be alive! I ran into Russel, my neighbor and overall mayor of the block. He's an incredibly gregarious guy always having something nice to say. This day he said:
"Hey Nora! Did you check out the Polynesian Day stuff going on down the block? They've got their drummers out there."
And as he said it I could hear the drums. I ran back to my apartment, abandoning all errands for the moment, and grabbed my camera. The show was fantastic, if not super duper crowded.
craziest dance routine complete with baton twirling, always catching the thick wooden stick right at the very last moment. It was so impressive how skilled they were.
The music was so so loud, but it was a really nice jam to listen to, or rather to get down to. The band was not only talented but tenacious. They kept going long after I left and long before I arrived. That takes perseverance, especially if one is in the cadence or blowing a horn, measure after to measure.
yay! for mystery day!