Imagine an intersection that brings traffic from the north, south, east, and west. That intersection is empty. Suspiciously so. A parade permit has been given that clears traffic from this route for the next hour.
A large crowd forms a block north of this intersection. Another crowd mills about a block south. A third is congregating a block east and a fourth a block west of this intersection.
At an appointed time, all four crowds grow silent. They form a row, like the scene out of Braveheart. Each of the four crowds is facing the intersection. For what seems like a longer time than is comfortable, the crowd staying silent but growing antsy, the crowd just waits. And waits.
And then, music blasts the silence. The crowds surge forward, running pell mell towards each other as though intent on harm and conquest. But as they converge into the intersection, they run past, rather than into, each other. The music segues into something with infectious rhythm. The four crowds become one happy, dancing mob. This only lasts for the duration of one or two songs. And then the crowd dissipates, filing back into stores, restaurants, alleys, libraries, coffee shops, and the suburbs.
That's it. The parade is over. And a new kind of parade has begun.
1 comment:
A parade with no spectators, only participants; I like that!
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