One of the highlights of summer in Brooklyn for nearly a decade has been attendance at the feel-good, Sunday afternoon-til-dark family picnic, doggie meet-and-greet, drum circle, twirl-n-skate house music fest that is Soul Summit. In the shadow of the looming monument atop Fort Greene Park’s highest point, rotating DJ’s kick it Garage-style for those old enough to remember to share just how it’s done with those who are not. Picnic spreads are as likely to feature vegan fare as hot wings and the music alone can take you higher. It’s all love.
I was only able to make one, the last in this summer’s series and I’m so glad I did. I needed to shake a tail feather and release the stuff of a hectic schedule. I mixed and mingled with friends, enjoying the family reunion vibe. We danced into a sweaty frenzy, so hard, perhaps we invoked the rain gods who pelted us with equal fervor. At first the crowd dispersed, seeking partial shelter under the leafy canopy of trees lining the perimeter of the “dance floor.” The plug was pulled, literally, on the music in deference to nature and her ability to smite by lightning. Many threw up their umbrellas, bounded out into the open and returned to rainy revelry amid the rhythms of the storm. We danced, ecstatically waterlogged and determined to outlive the monsoon. Eventually the DJs were pumping the tunes once more. Neither rain nor heat nor humid night would stay these couriers from the mass transmission of their anointed sounds.
Publicist Lea Byrd and her darling daughter
Stylist David De La Cruz and friends (including a glorious Thai Ridgeback)