As young children, my Sister and I considered our tiny, rural town in northern California—Dixon—to be the center of the world. We felt especially assured of this fact every May when the glorious May Fair would descend upon our burg.
From the kickoff pancake breakfast and May Day Parade to the inexhaustible rides on motorcycles and ponies to lying in the bunk bed at night listening to the sound of live music filter in through the curtains on the warm, night breeze, we were in love with every minute of the Dixon May Fair. I think we looked forward to it almost as much as Christmas or our birthdays.
So it was a thrill, this May, to take Elliot to the fair with my Sister and some friends—reliving childhood through the wide eyes of my daughter.
Click through for some more photos . . .
I spent my early childhood in a small farming town in the middle of California flat lands. I loved it—the tight-knit community, the agricultural lifestyle, potlucks, parades, little league, etc. After moving across the continent and then north and finally back again full circle to northern California, it’s a surreal experience to visit this place that looms so large in my nostalgia. On our way to pick up Mommy from the Sacramento airport, we stopped by the old stomping grounds and Elliot patiently took the tour . . .