“I like solitude because it is there that poetry undresses and smiles at me.” — Humberto Ak’abal

There was a poetic moment at a Czech festival, south of Myrtle last Saturday at the Brick Hall. A friend earlier in the week reminded me of it. He said there could be up to a thousand people there.

We arrived on the overcast day and parked quite some distance back on the road from the hall. There were cars parked in the yards and the woods on the other side of the road. People were still coming and few were leaving.

The lunch lines, some of them anyway, were set up outside providing food and there was a silent auction inside the Bohemian Hall with tables galore and most of them filled.

Most of the people were just milling around inside and out and of all ages. It was fun to see the children running to and fro with smiles. There were also some hard rains occasionally falling but seldom lasting long.

Mike Ruzek walked up with a smile that he always brings along. He also talked to Jeanne. That might have been about politics.

Cousin Ed had driven back up north to attend. He said he had run into too much rain. Mary and Tom Winkels were with good friends.

It was my understanding that Maria and Alton Krikava organized this and I believe there was a visitor with them from Prague.

I stopped at the Bohemian Cemetery to look around and pay attention to Grandpa and Grandma Vilt’s marker and Uncle Edward’s grave and two of his children.

Then on my way back into Austin I stopped at Vilt’s Valley or what used to be Vilt’s Valley that is now a weedy woods and occasionally occupied by deer, the way nature is intended.