Two people and three crows (non-jazz lovers i presume) walk slowly by.

All of us, at the festival or outside it, are surely unaware of the future (undetermined as yet) that will evolve in some manner (unimaginable or not) from this circumstance...

...but to me it seems certain that all circumstances now, and especially the jazz festival and the park, are ingredients of the post-industrial living that is taking form among these remnants of industrial life as our recent ancestors constructed it and enjoyed it and suffered it as it was but no longer is.

This little piece of writing and the thoughts it provokes are also parts of this process, as is everything else that is happening here and everywhere...

This may seem a pointless statement but i think it is important to acknowledge the importance and the influence of everything...

...i walk away past the pine tree and sit down on another seat with my feet on sandy ground amidst dozens of cigarette butts and broken twigs... i look up and see that the sun is faintly shining through the continuous grey cloud that is covering this part of the earth.

All but a few stacks of plastic and steel seating units and flooring units have gone, the festival village has been dismantled in a day... Only 5 or 10 men and 3 forklift tractors remain to complete the removal... And there are large areas of yellowed grass where temporary floorings have laid for 5 days... no jazz people in sight nor in hearing...

...and as i wrote that the last of the tractors and trucks disappeared behind the trees as this 200 year old mansion and park resumed its usual state of emptiness and expectancy for whatever happens next in this theatre of the future without work (except for professional musicians and removers?).

(these pages are designed to be read with the window set to two-thirds of the screen width)

atlas

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