When I was a child, I was introduced to a little thing called magic.
Now, it wasn’t the kind of magic you read in fantasy stories, though I did find that kind too, rather, it was the magic of connection with community, family and friends.
It all began in a long, narrow backyard, bordered with lofty trees and a vine laden fence in Port Dalhousie, Ontario.
Every year my uncle Thom would bring the community together in his backyard for a convivial evening of live music, tasty food and drinks.
There would always be an assortment of food, but if I was to give a shout out to a few menu staples, it’d be roasted corn and homemade pizza, made by Thom himself.
He’d have lots of help, of course - his boys for one and many other family members and friends from the neighborhood would contribute their energy.
For music, he’d bring a mix of bluegrass, folk and americana bands from the States and local bands from Niagara, so they would get to mingle, and more often than not, would be playing music around the fire together by the end of the night.
People danced barefoot in the grass, dodging lawn chairs and colourful blankets full of snacks.
Drinks toppled over and the laughter was so loud it gave the amps a run for their money.
While all this was going on for the grown-ups, us little kids would be roaming the neighbourhood, deep in our spur-of-the-moment shenanigans, laughing at the absurdity of moments that can only be reached free from the eyes of parents with all their ridiculous rules.
We always played a game called man-hunt.
For those of you not in the know, this iconic masterpiece of a kid’s game is basically hide and seek, except that when the person who is “it” finds someone and actually tags them, that person they tagged is now “it” as well and they join in on the hunt.
Not very fast, I had to be good at hiding, and that I was.
I had the best hiding spot in the biz. Don't ask where though, cuz I ain't tellin'.
I made all sorts of life-long friends from these annual gatherings, and though it's easy to romanticize while looking back on it, I had no idea how special of an upbringing it really was.
If I could attempt to describe the way Cicada Fest makes me feel, I would just call it home, and that I think, is what magic really is.
It’s a feeling you only get at an event that is organically put together with unmistaken passion.
What started as a little, yet big, backyard bash, became a full blown event called Cicada Festival.
Now that my beautiful-soul of an uncle has passed away, his boys, and other key community members, have taken the reins, bringing Cicada Festival to new heights while raising funds for Movember and prostate cancer research.
Though my professional man-hunt days are behind me and I'm no longer roaming the neighbourhood with all the other crazy kids, I get to experience Cicada Festival new, documenting the gatherings with my camera.
But I love it just the same. I love being an event photographer in Niagara.
I love being on the other side of the camera, capturing moments of joy that folks can take with them throughout their lives.
If magic is a feeling, then a photographer is something of a wizard.
Thanks for reading!
Jon Lepp
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