For those jadeds who didn't find transcendence in a Scents intro or second Mike's jam or something on the scale of the Drive-In (less than 24-hours prior), there's always the dance. It is great that you brought up the experiential side of things @J_D_G (not to mention the evocative etymology) as participating in it as a full on throw down dance party with good people on a glorious Sunday night is far more than I could ever have anticipated happening again in my lifetime.

After the demise of one of the best ever transcendent dance vehicles twenty years ago, Fare Thee Well, itself, felt like a miraculous opening to a summer of rebirth. Capping the summer by wearing holes in my shoes on the racetrack lawn felt like another resurrection and closure of sorts. Three of my camp posse are high school grads of 1985, and we each had three permanent GD imprints that summer/fall: Hershey, Saratoga and Richmond. One of us is a few months from his 30th Phishaversary, while another is a more recent convert. 1995 was a tough summer (in Deadland, mind you), unless you were my other camping companion and weekend ride who is a 1995 high school grad and Phish convert of that year, his 20th. 2005 didn't leave much of an impression in these departments, but 2015 brought it all full circle. Our worlds were ever colliding and expanding at the drive-in wee hours, before we sweat it all out for a great Sunday capper.

Sorry if my numerological garbledygook can't express the fearful symmetry that I was feeling: words fail. What was evident, was that our group of fives and sevens were feeling the fearful symmetry in full force.

Happy, happy, oh my friend . . . No complaints from me. What an incredible experience spanning multiple decades in various iterations. And isn't it nice to know that Dionysian lightning can still strike, reaching back and looking forward, indeed.