Green sky thunderstorms. When we came out of the show, rain was white windows. Waterfalls from gutters, a washout for outdoors. Wangaratta aficionados remapped their evening. River rose, streets were quiet, George V Gardens abandoned, great leafy trees dripping rainwater on empty white chairs, empty stage. Only the supermarket was open, and jazz theatres. Where next? Dave Douglas Quintet came on, played into Sunday night. End of festival but felt like the beginning, they played to the true believers. There was nothing in the world to worry about, in time, over time, beyond time. Just the fans and the music.