“Once upon a February, deep amid the shivering pines and frosted marshes of Down East, a single speck of glitter fell from the sky and landed on a picnic table in Gloucester, North Carolina.

All the people gathered around, wondering what to make of it. As folks ruminated, a boat builder broke out a fiddle and started a crazy little tune. An accordion sang out, and a fisherman on the fringe found himself shuffling his white rubber boots. Wishing our neighbors full bellies, a young mother showed up with butter and a sack of flour. A welder from Marshallberg fetched his black iron pan and started making a roux. Around and around and around he stirred, and 30 years later he looked up to find the Gloucester Mardi Gras still going full bore.

What is this mysterious Cajun spell brought on by a single sparkle in the dead of winter? Each February people far and wide gather in Gloucester under sheets of rain, salty winds – even drifts of rare coastal snow—a motley krewe dancing on the end of winter’s long tail. Gumbos bubbling, turkeys frying, little kings and queens spinning in an orbit of beads. And the music – sweet Cajun fiddle, rocking accordion, thumping bass and drums, Zydeco rubboard, giddy jug band, craggy old time…here’s to years of joy in a little place and time touched by a wayward speck of something sparkly.”

- Barbara Garrity-Blake