al-Falaq visits Stories on the square: Read Georgia Nutts On Location.

Stories on the Square, 06.03.2014

"Junebugs"

           It all began with DAP Tales' challenge to herself to meet the people.  Seeking to overcome her shyness for public speaking, she signed us up for Stories on the Square, a forum for storytellers happening periodically in several locations around the Metro Atlanta area.  Actually, she only signed up herself, but who would I be to not jump in the pit with my betrothed?  So on a chilly evening just before Thanksgiving, 2013,  in we went:  she, I and GNG member Yvonne Walker.  That was my first foray into the world of telling stories publicly and my experience that night in Gwinnett was eye opening; feeling such welcoming attention and shared vulnerability with a group of folks I had never met was a new thing.  I loved it.

            So fast forwarding to June this year (2014, for archival purposes), I found myself driving up to Norcross to try it all again.  I approached The 45 South Cafe from my parking spot in the small pedestrian towne centre, passing neat boutique shops, bistros and diners in the air of an evening still exhaling the heat of late afternoon.  45 South Cafe itself is a tidy, warm space neatly divided into a few discreet areas, each begging for a body to sit comfortably in front of a nice cup of tea or coffee with a good, worn book and just relax.  I passed all these though, to find the Stories on the Square folks enjoying the cooling eve outside on the rear portico.  I was late and had to creep under a storyteller's line of sight to sign in (sorry, guys) but the atmosphere was as inviting and welcoming as I had remembered.  I sat and listened

            This having been only my second time meeting any of these folks present, there was an air of familiarity and personal attention that permeated everything.  Stories in various voices and cadences, projected through the modest PA system, bandied between the brick walls of the small courtyard, filling the evening.  I don't recall now all of the stories I heard since I had foolishly forgotten my notebook in  my rush to get there; but I do remember learning that a "Junebug" is a real and specific beetle, known for its brief tenure of activity only in June, and not just some homespun name for lost cousins twice removed, and there was a tender story about the meaning of butterflies in one's view of life and a smartly funny tale about insectophobia and bug collections.

            The sun had disappeared by the time I left but the sky was still replete with the glow of the day, clouds highlighted in soft lavender hues drifting along overhead.  An
Amtrak passenger train sliced shrilly through the scene, the easiness of the evening wrapping quickly back into place in its wake.  Different place, different season, but the feeling was all the same.  I'm sure I'll be visiting again soon.