Watching them rake

In the parking lot field, workers dump heaps of dirt. Sweaty men from around the world rake and push, endeavoring to relevel the ground. Endeavor to erase the rain and 500 pagans in the mud and sunshine. Prepare the land for the influx of perverts to come.I love Ramblewood. Trees and a lake full of angry snapping turtles. Buffalo bones stay on the hill, and paths to places divine dot the land. The alchemical fire circle has been taken down. The fire spinners have left. Merchants row is forgotten save a few patches of dead grass.In its place heaps of sex wedges fill the Dungeon/Tin can, and a huge vehicle full of metal dungeon gear has just arrived. Where children frollicked last week, sluts and hos will get fucked and flogged on the same hills.Breathe in.Life moves and transforms around us.Breathe out.Another chapter begins.I am so deeply touched by how main ritual went on Saturday night. Raven had asked me to fill the roll of the Monk, and it is a large piece of my chapter at the moment... I knew I had to say yes. I cut up linen squares, brought hemp twine, and a stack of sharpie pens all in my leather cow bag... I even had Del shave my head into a Tonsure. It's fuzz-bald now.Clad in monk robes and bare footed I headed to the Dining hall where we began processing. Deep breaths between the Corn King and I. We were a weird bunch- the Rebel, the Artist, Robin Hood, the Mad Scientist, the Insane Woman, the Healer, Sacrificial King, the Sexual Deviant, the Trickster and the Monk... as Uranus and Neptune danced between the signs. As our group split off, the Monks went outside and I did a 3-soul alignment breathing exercise with everyone in a circle then had each person go off and design their prayer flag. Hooray for the miracle of the multiplying sharpies.I thought we had 25 minutes. 10-15 minutes in, we started hearing yells and screams that the Monks were being too slow and they needed us now. I started to panic and hurry up, until someone amongst the monks said well yes, we are the monks, right? I then said "I thought we had 40 years on a mountain top." We all slowed down, breathed together, went back to our work as the world yelled at us. Calm. Cool. Focused. Solid.The Monks who headed to the fire broke out into chants. It was good. The chants continued as the wheel of time and prayer burned.Dream the change, be the dream.I also had an intense sweat lodge experience on Friday, and am so grateful for its timing. In addition fire spinning, conversations amazing and disheartening, love and beauty, strength and a slice of sadness, walks alone and walks with friends.I love Ramblewood. It is a magical place.