In The Tunnels of Time - Two Buses

The last time I asked- where does something begin?

So that seems to be a good place to start.

So…. alone with a guitar and harmonica - stepping in front of forty or so thousand – or with the bus?

Because really this is a story of two buses.

One going, one returning.

One full and happy, one even fuller and increasingly unhappy as the minutes of not moving descend into hours.

If I were to build a stadium I would have more than one road leading in and out.

One bus in, one out.

A story of two buses.

But not only.

There was a sunset too, unexpected as the previous days ….. weeks ….. month …… had been wet.

The sky cleared, the sun set, the evening breezes stirred the flag.

“There’s a problem with your ticket, with the brown sector. You need to go to the pink sector”

There was a better view of the sunset in the pink sector.

Someone had built a stage in the brown sector.

Last time I wrote  - “here’s the set list”.

Here’s the set list.

Let’s face it.

You had to be there.