Dead on the Creek
Though the future of the festival is uncertain, this year being the final year in its current form, the imprint it has made on my life is remarkable. It is an honor to have been a part of something so rich in color and love over the years. It is the confluence of so many life-giving things: family and music and nature and food, friendship, art, conversation, and history. What a gift. Thank you to all who have made it what it is.
Read MoreAn extraordinary amount of love goes into this festival and I feel privileged to be a part of it.
Read MoreSunday.
Monday.
To see more photos from this year (and last year) and to purchase prints click here.
Sunday feels a bit nostalgic, or maybe it only felt that way for me because it was our last day. For everyone else the festival is half way over, but even after two days, we have become a family. Pretty soon we’ll have to pack up camp and say goodbye.
The music on Sunday was fantastic. The Carper Family ladies are pure talent. Their music makes you want to dance, and I was serenaded on my walk down the dusty road to the garden, where I found Christa harvesting a box of veggies to send home with us. There is something that is pure magic about a woman in her garden, it is one of the most beautiful things.
Most of all, I feel blessed by the relationships and sense of community that comes from spending three days in the company of such quality individuals. The generosity astounds.
The festival continues through Monday night, and by Tuesday noon, there is hardly a trace. People return to their lives grateful for the chance to get away, for the days under the trees and the nights under the stars. For the music and the food and the people.
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For more photos and to purchase prints from Sunday, click here.
In case you missed it, Friday and Saturday.
To learn more about the festival, check out their website.
Saturday morning. I wake up early to catch the kitchen crew in the garden, I know they'll be harvesting for that night’s meal. And then I stay because only half the garden in bathed in morning light, mainly the sunflowers, they’re the tallest. The bees are making their rounds and I can hear the campers beginning to stir, hungry for breakfast. Music plays all day. The band that afternoon—Front Country—is terrific.
I am drawn to the children on Saturday. They are happy and relaxed and so beautiful. Excitement is building for the parade that evening, when the giant Jerry Garcia puppet will emerge and everyone will throw flowers because “that’s what love will make you do.” We rock out to Melvin Seals & JGB and again, everyone is smiling.
The meal that night is unbelievable. Coconut curry with fire roasted veggies served with red lentil dahl, basmati rice, rice noodle, cabbage, and tofu salad, and red onion, peach, and raisin chutney. A killer yogurt-cucumber and heirloom carrot raitta. And Mendocino coast salmon, Potter Valley pork, String Creek Lamb, and Magruder beef.
As if that’s not enough, when everyone’s done rocking out to Halden Wofford & The Hi-Beams, and we’ve eaten our fill of popcorn and cookies, and the BBQ is cooking wood to warm our bones, pizzas start flying out of the wood oven and the musicians get their instruments and play around the pizza oven until the early hours of Sunday. And everything is beautiful.
For more photos and to purchase prints from Saturday, click here.
(If you missed Friday, click here.)
Friday is about preparations. Greeting friends you haven't seen in too long. Washing dishes, picking apples, making salsa. Pulling up the parachute for the first time, a man or woman posted on each tree. Lucy Goosey (the pup) learning to pace herself. She isn't as young as she was last year, none of us are. The excitement builds, everyone is smiling. Dinner prep started right after breakfast and once the first band starts to play the weekend gets its soundtrack. By evening most people have settled in, and the appreciation we feel for our surroundings makes everything better: the food tastes amazing, the musicians are pure talent, and the locale could not be more serene. And just when the second band has found its groove, and the stars are bright overhead, it's popcorn time.
For more photos and to purchase prints from Friday, click here.
Learn more about the Dead on the Creek festival here.
Sunday is a day for relaxation and long conversation. For taking a dip in the pond and staring up at the sky through the leaves on the trees. For getting a spot in that dinner line early. I feel so lucky to be connected to so many beautiful people from my hometown. And the people who come to this festival year after year have created the best kind of community. Community celebrating music and food and dance and art. And celebrating the life and lyrics of Jerry Garcia.
More photos of the festival and more about Dead on the Creek.
Saturday morning. The kitchen staff are the first to rise, already harvesting lettuce from the garden for that night’s meal. Each piece needs to be washed and then torn in a way so that no leaf is crushed by the weight of it all. There is an art and a science to feeding three meals to 300 people and it takes an army all day to prepare...After breakfast the parachute goes up, with a body posted at each tree and two on the roof, it rises, only briefly getting caught on the apple tree. Granny Smiths rain down...Drum circle, tie-dye, weaving on the loom. Jeffery’s post is on the road to assist with parking, though most people have already arrived...The day settles into a relaxing trance as the first band begins to play. Bluegrass during the day, Dead songs at night...Teenagers more talented than anyone thought possible given their short existence pick up their instruments and own the crowd...Washing and dicing, singing and dancing, continue into the evening.
I lost about 250 images during the dinner hour/ the golden hour that can only be imagined. They must have been too magical for the world to see.
Too see images from Friday night click here. And for more information on DOTC and to bookmark for next year check out the website.
We drove up to Willits from the Bay Friday night, and got up String Creek just in time for the late night party to start. Mars Hotel was rocking. The coals in the outdoor oven were nearing perfection, and the popcorn was popping. Pizza turned art, fresh cookies, late night badminton. The music kept playing long after we were full of food and fireside conversation with old friends and all zipped into our tents for the night. And that's how it started.
For more information on the festival, click here.
