Every Wednesday this month, we’ll discuss a festival held the previous weekend, with no shortage of options to choose from, so check every week for a new installment. This week: pagans; next week: beer.
At festivals go, the Pagan Picnic is one of the smaller ones you’ll come across during the early summer season. And, yet, the people-watching is especially rich, despite the relatively small numbers.
Utilizing the historic Tower Grove Park on the City’s South Side, the Pagan Picnic’s attendees often take the road less travelled in life and their celebration is located in one of the park’s less-travelled quadrants, setting up on a service road in the northeast corner of the park. With booths flanking attendees on both sides, the vendors set up along a walkway of a several hundred feet, packing in a wealth of interests along the way.
The past weekend was the Pagan Picnic’s 20th anniversary, and there were at least that many subcategories of interest groups setting up shop in the collapsible tents known to festivals worldwide. A partial list of attractions, speakers and discussion groups would include: animal psychics, medieval re-enactors, spirit guides, arts-and-crafters, shamen, animal rights activists, makers of vegan food, dream interpreters, tie-dyers, ghost hunters, druids, drum-builders and a surprising number of shirtless gentlemen sporting full-back tattoos.
It’s too easy to label, but there’s a definite, free-spirited quality to the gathering, with social and cultural touchstones that one might see around town at events like the sci-fi/fantasy convention of Archon, or at ren faires. For example, in one section of the picnic grounds, about a dozen young men fought with foam-and-plastic weaponry, some of them more elaborately protected than others, right down to their catcher’s shinguards. The battlers would pick sides, engage in a bout, discuss the encounter at some length, then reconvene, all in good time. A few dozen yards away, a big group of drummers sat in the grass; though only one was tapping away at his djembe, it seemed that the rest of the group was locked into his beats while freely lost in their own, sky-gazing thoughts.
If there was any question as to whether pagans enjoy free things as much as anyone else, the biggest stir along the walkway wasn’t a fully-costumed dog or a fellow in homemade knight’s wear, but was instead... the Snapple cart. As two young ladies pushed their wares down the runway, a crowd gathered, dipping their hands into the well-stocked pushcart and pulling out free samples. There was a sense of enjoyment on Saturday, as attendees grabbed away at the cart’s wares, pulling out iced teas, a welcome treat on a fairly warm afternoon.
The Pagan Picnic is 20 yeas old now, but there’s still a tribal, familial vibe to the proceedings. Some of us drop in, stride the length of the vending stations and call it a day. Others are more committed to the causes espoused, no matter on what terrestrial plane those activities take place, and this is a chance to gather with like-minded free-thinkers for a couple days of comradeship.
As someone in the come-see-depart camp, there’s a definite enjoyment to even the tourism aspect, seeing what an interesting crop of folks are up to, in a shady, little piece of St. Louis City perfectly suited to the event.
Long live free thought! Long live the Pagan Picnic!
