The temple of Juno was different. Then again, the temple at burning man is different every year it’s built. It withstood some intense wind and dust storms long enough though to become the same sanctuary it always is, even when the facade itself changes.
I stopped for a few hours by myself this year to reflect and let some of my skeletons go. I left a (faux) flower for my friends and a few of my insecurities and woes.
We watched it burn from afar this year. I didn’t need to be among an emotional crowd to feel the impact of the symbolic tearing down.
It was a lovely thing both when built and as a pile of ash. More words than these would be necessary to really describe it all… What it is to feel meek…