Constant Procession

My curiosity peaked, what had become of this site? I decided to drive out to take a look now that twelve years had passed since that day when Nancy Fowler had spoken to the 100,000 on-lookers. What would I find? Who would I find? These thoughts came up as I pulled over and stopped next to the front gate that lead up a long dirt road. Assessing my situation, I reflected on the fact that I had traveled here alone. Should I enter these grounds? Almost before I realize it, adrenaline started pumping through my body. Instinctively my five senses had gone into high alert. As I started driving up this dirt road my sense of sight helped me re-establish my bearings. Opening the door of my van, a gentle breeze crossed my face. Before getting out, I listen hard for any sounds that could help. The leaves in the trees that surrounded the grounds rustled in the breeze and then I could distinguish a great variety of birds sounding off. Suddenly I realized how dry my mouth had become. Tentatively, I stepped out, feeling like