Something about scrolling comfortably from home, not a touch hungover, felt both smug and sort of lonely.
I had missed the camping and queuing and portaloos, but had I also missed the camaraderie?
I could stream any performance, but Id lost the scale and serendipity with the Worthy Farmers.
Photo: Getty Images
And then Hurricane Beryl and Gaza and the enormous tragedyduring a recent satsang.
The dingy, important, inescapable sludge of real life flooded back in.
The vibe keeps shifting, ricocheting between a chic Parisian Olympics and a drizzlyWimbledonthat looks nothing likeChallengers.
Were often leaving the company of greatness (did I mention the ukulele?)
for an incredibly bad hang (did I mention the Tories?).
Its not a bad summer or a good summer, its just a constant readjustment to the latest drop.
Weird vibes are everywhere,theyre so Julia.
You already know its aBratsummer.
In its way, its both a respite from and a soundtrack to current affairs.
