Back in the the days B.C., a four day weekend was all about rejuvenation of body and spirit. I used to gloat to friends and family about the liberal amount time off for Easter we were privy to in the Commonwealth while they were slaving away in their American sweat shops.
These days, the days of parenthood, a four day weekend for Easter is all about trying to stay sane around a toddler whose had chocolate for breakfast and to fit in a bit of sleep around a baby who doesn’t recognise the sanctity of night time.
And counting the hours until I get to go back to work and relax.
Late summer and early autumn is festival season in Adelaide. We’ve got the Adelaide Fringe Festival, Womadelaide, Writer’s Week. Err, the Clipsal 500 if we stretch the definition of ‘festival’. With the arrival of autumn in earnest, and the anticipation of the brutal South Australian winter, most of the festival events have tailed off but we managed to make it out to the last evening of the Northern Lights with a strung-out toddler and sleeping baby in tow.
For those of you who haven’t visited our fair city, most of the buildings of any historical/architectural significance are clustered together on the northern side of the city center. The festival folks project images onto the buildings – slam, bam Northern Lights. Sounds a bit naff, but it is pretty spectacular in real life. Especially if you’re two. Or 38 in the realm of a 2 year old. A realm in which nothing is naff.
Anyway, I – and by ‘I’ I mean Dr. O’C – took some pretty nifty photos, here are some of my favourites from the Northern Lights:
There isn’t a lot of ‘Easter music’ out there, but I went back to Sufjan Stevens‘ “Seven Swans” with its unapologetic Christian overtones. I was feeling a bit bad about having been so flippant about Jesus and all.