Drum in a circle at Meridian Hill Park (Part I)

LOCATION: Meridian Hill Park, upper level (W-ish st between 13th and 16th; follow the sound of happiness). WHEN: Sundays, starting in that afternoooony time and ending when everyone is exhausted. NOTE: The Meridian Hill drum circle is nothing like the tepid Dupont-based ellipse which hosts a straggle of bucket tappers around the same time.

WHAT TO BRING: Yourself. DISCOURAGED FOR DANCING: Your self. OPTIONAL: A jingly silver chain for your belly, which is hopefully similar to a heap of wheat set about with lilies, and has a navel like a round goblet which wanteth not liquor.
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The day rose so elysian that I yearned to get me to the mountain of myrrh, to the hill of frankincense,

Yea, though DC (for all its fun things to do) has no such place, but the Meridian Hill drum circle is a close second;

I took off my shoes when I entered the garden, and two brothers were sploshing each other all down the tiered fountain;

And shaggy indie boys were kryptoniting bikes and twitching nervously in the sunshine;

And the ground resounded the sound of heartbeats elaborated.

They were dancing in a circle; the men were leaping and their noble dreads were as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead,

The women were leaping and their breasts were as clusters of grapes,

And the grins that were traded were good, and solid, and given for free,

And the battered bum did grin at the crisp collared lawyer, and the lawyer grinned back (although he caressed his palm pilot for a bit of comfort),

And a dancer after his handstand flung his purely gleeful shirt to the winds,

And the drums did echo the beat of our hearts did echo the drums right back.



(apology kisses to the Song of Solomon http://www.fourmilab.ch/etexts/www/Bible/Song_of_Solomon.html)