Wednesday April 29th, 2009. Delhi, CA. 70 miles. Grass. Cool.
Perfect circus day, neither too hot, nor too cold. Short jumps for a couple days with the same sponsor in several towns. On the jump today I saw a sign for Monterey – 87 miles. I laughed thinking about the rushed drive to Oklahoma and the long miles since we opened. To be so close to home. But home really isn’t home at all during the circus season. Home is today’s town and the corner of the lot where I’ve parked my house. It’s still spring and we’re chasing a summer that remains long weeks and thousands of miles away. There’s time for "home," wherever that may be, come autumn.
Tuesday April 28th, 2009. Firebaugh, CA. 65 miles. Cool. Grass.
Nice lot in a city park. The economic recession and the California draught are taking their toll on these small farming towns, but circus day is still bringing people to the shows.
Monday April 27th, 2009. Fowler, CA 35 miles. Cooler. Dirt lot.
Probably the dirtiest, dustiest lot of the season. With the breeze, a bit like eating grit. Fine layer of grim on sno-cones and floss as soon as they leave the candy wagon window. These are farming towns in the Central Valley. Farm workers come late.
Perfect circus day, neither too hot, nor too cold. Short jumps for a couple days with the same sponsor in several towns. On the jump today I saw a sign for Monterey – 87 miles. I laughed thinking about the rushed drive to Oklahoma and the long miles since we opened. To be so close to home. But home really isn’t home at all during the circus season. Home is today’s town and the corner of the lot where I’ve parked my house. It’s still spring and we’re chasing a summer that remains long weeks and thousands of miles away. There’s time for "home," wherever that may be, come autumn.
Tuesday April 28th, 2009. Firebaugh, CA. 65 miles. Cool. Grass.
Nice lot in a city park. The economic recession and the California draught are taking their toll on these small farming towns, but circus day is still bringing people to the shows.
Monday April 27th, 2009. Fowler, CA 35 miles. Cooler. Dirt lot.
Probably the dirtiest, dustiest lot of the season. With the breeze, a bit like eating grit. Fine layer of grim on sno-cones and floss as soon as they leave the candy wagon window. These are farming towns in the Central Valley. Farm workers come late.
