As displays of civic pride go, it's fairly unremarkable - a fire engine, some council members in cars, marching bands and cheerleaders - but what marks this one out is the rare appearance of our local monarch: The Walnut King.
A character that would not be out of place at a pagan gathering in Somerset, or in a low budget 70s horror film (or, indeed, a low budget 70s horror film about pagan gatherings in Somerset), the King commands respect and fear from all who lay eyes on him. Parade participants stop and perform whatever it is they do before him and then move on. If he is happy, we are guaranteed a fine walnut harvest for the coming year (if the walnut trees hadn't been pulled up for real estate). If he is displeased I dread to think what happens.
A fearful crowd awaits. What mood will the King be in this year?
Here he is...no clues yet.
Past festival presidents arrive to be sacrificed.
This is what we like - a bit of flag waving, from our local firemen.
Young, hopeful onlookers in the crowd.
One of the marching bands.
The cheerleaders, arriving by train. Cool.
