The Solstice Parade

Every June the town of Eastsound holds its annual Solstice Parade to celebrate art, community, and the start of summer. The procession follows the same route every year, setting off from Odd Fellows Hall down a block of Main Street, turning right onto North Beach Road and eventually curling its way past the farmers market where live music kick off the dancing festivities at the stage on the Village Green.

This year's theme was "Creatures," a term to be interpreted loosely, I suppose, as one boy, accompanied down the street by a flamboyant Elvis impersonator, did little more than stuff his shirt with a pillow. His lackluster effort notwithstanding, this was one rip-roarin' island gaiety. There were belly dancers and stilt-walkers, wagons covered with plastic sunflowers and carrying tiny children dressed all in yellow and waving meekly to the crowd. One man thought the best way to usher in summer was to don a disturbing white mask that looked like the grinning-like-a-buffoon love child of Guy Fawkes and a Kabuki dancer. There were wigs and tie-dye and a guy in a chicken suit. A man in black and yellow with a papier mache bee stinger rode a bike while carrying a kitten that looked to be about four weeks old, poor thing. You name it, there it was.

Other noteworthy sights:

My lovely and fabulous coworker Penny leading the parade.

The woman next to me couldn't get enough of this lady in the blue. She kept trying to call her over to have a picture taken with her teenaged son. Poor guy.

Of course, it's never summer in the Pacific Northwest without a little rain.

Incredibly creative dragon made from hula hoops connected by strips of fabric.

The dragon made by the Salmonberry School kids. (And can we talk about how precious it is that it's called the Salmonberry School?)

Senor Sasquatch must have been on the verge of heat stroke.

Creepy-ass "Hugging Sun" is a Solstice Parade staple every year.  It's a special kind of horrifying when a giant gloved hand is wagging in your face and a disembodied voice booms, "Any more hugs?"

Elvis and inexplicably fat child with sunglasses.

According to Penny, "those women have been flower pots for, like, twenty years."

Bees on bikes: because they weren't obnoxious enough on their own.

These guys were my favorites. There were about six of them and they traveled in rows of two. Every few seconds they would throw up their arms and shout, "Wooooo!" like they were on a roller coaster.