The parade was to come right by our rented cottage, so my husband Frank and I attended… and stepped into another world.

Being near the end of the parade route, we spent an hour waiting, walking up and down the street, being baptized by the last of the rain, enjoying the pre-parade festivities.  Families and groups of people lined up along the parade route.  Speakers blaring music from the open backs of pickups.  One little girl, a big bow in her hair, sitting on a pink child’s chair, absorbed in the screen of an iPad, oblivious to the cheerful chaos around her.

People selling homemade baked goods. Sheriff’s deputies riding back and forth on their motorcycles, sounding their horns, chasing each other in circles and playing loop de loop, swooping from one side of the street to the other, as I used to do on my bicycle when I was a child.

I love parades. I get teary-eyed when the veterans go by.  And, as Frank can attest, I clap and cheer for any and every kind of group, even if it’s Brownie Scouts pulling garden wagons.

But these Mardi Gras parades are something special.

Here in Mardi Gras-Land, there are so many fun ways for well-past-grown-ups like me to be in parades. We saw a group of definitely-older people, the women dressed in glittering costumes, marching proudly, the men wearing tuxedos and handing out roses and carnations. There were three golf carts decorated with Wonder Woman posters, filled with seasoned women with grey hair and curls (my age perhaps) wearing Wonder Woman capes and Wonder Woman insignia.

And all the floats! The local animal rescue society. A bank. An air conditioning company. And a wildly decorated float called “Just Because”, filled with laughing people wearing “just because” T-shirts.

Bringing up the rear, one marching band after another, teenage musicians playing their hearts out even though they’ve already marched and played for an hour. Rank after rank of straight lines and swaying bodies, followed by stocky young men carrying shiny tubas, waving them back and forth so they flash golden in the sunlight.

And, of course, treasures thrown from every float.

We collected a wild array of necklaces for our grandchildren in Illinois and “just because” we could.

An afternoon of simple enjoyment. Gratitude that the rain of three days had finally stopped and the sun had come out at last. Smiling at the children as they waved and jumped and caught their treasures. Listening to the little girl on the other side of us proclaiming, in wonder, “Look at all my stuff!”

No deep philosophical meaning to this gathering… Just an afternoon of standing on the main street of a small town in Mississippi, with strangers who became friends, clapping, laughing, listening to marching bands and loud music, catching treasures, purple and green and golden necklaces to be placed around the neck, and also memories, to be stored away in places where smiles are kept.

Now, sitting on my front porch after the parade, I see cars and golf carts taking back the street where the parade was. A float drives by, blaring music. On normally quiet Government Street, people are walking in every direction holding bags of stuffed animals, chocolate roses, moon pies, rubber balls, leis, and lots and lots and lots of Mardi Gras beads.

The sun shines brightly, outlining puffy white clouds in a vivid blue sky.

All is well, and for once, I am taking the time to be still and notice.