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.
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