The first day the square filled from all four sides. A stream of people became a river, a tide, a flood.The festival was beginning.
Work of a moment on the crowded pavement. Bus arriving, tripping, flailing, bus arriving. Stop. “No, I don’t want a flyer, thanks.”
Usual seasons tick start at equinox and solstice. Here though time measures in acts and givings, starts in summer warmth and rain.