Of the numerous festivals our fair city is home to, the Inman Park Festival ranks among my very favorite. As opposed to festivals and fairs held in wide open spaces, Inman Park’s neighborhood celebration meanders through its historic streets, past Victorian homes, and under the lush tree canopy.

This year’s festival took place this past weekend. The weather served as the iconic backdrop we’ve come to expect of early festival season in Atlanta: warm, sunny, with the occasional breeze that assures you’re not actually going to die.

An actual residence in Inman Park isn’t required to feel you’re among neighbors. Complete strangers, lounging on their porches and front lawns with family and friends, will offer you a cold beer. I mean, if you look approachable. Which you probably totally do.

The bright centerpiece of the festival is its parade. Groups, schools, wandering musicians, politicos, runaway circus types, local businesses and the occasional inebriated baton twirler all strut down Euclid Avenue to the sound of cheers.

My favorite gnome.

Aside from the vast but intimate display of local color, artisans, food and quirkiness, the Inman Park Festival brought about a life changing revelation without the aid of any mind-altering substances: I can tolerate puns if they involve gnomes.