I love a parade?

Yesterday was the "grand finale" of the local celebration, Fiesta Days. As we were returning from the next town south, where the wedding reception was held at the local casino, there were people everywhere. In recent years there has been a move to bring more of the celebration back downtown. The park has undergone renovation and the local railroad history club has revitalized the depot, turntable and yards. All of those were in full swing with music, activities and people as we made our way back home. I settled in with MIL, completely content with the prospect of an afternoon spent snugly in a recliner, or perhaps on the deck in the sun. In the background, I could hear occasional sirens, horns and bass drums reminding me of the festivities a few blocks away. I was surprised to find myself wishing I was there. Usually about halfway through viewing a parade I find myself reflecting on the inanity of watching a procession of cars and people go by. It is a bit odd, when you stop to think about it too much. Despite that, parades draw people together. No matter how big a homebody one might be, I believe there is a certain aspect of human nature that is drawn to a crowd. Whether it is simple curiosity, a deeply embedded seed of desire to be part of a larger whole, or a fear of missing out, something makes a person want to join a group of others. As I sat comfortably settled in a sunbeam, the occasional rumble from downtown tugged quietly at the back of my mind. It was a curious sensation, but the comfy chair prevailed.