Lightning in a Bottle returned with a reduced capacity but a vast and diverse lineup — and, as it has for a decade and a half, the chance to leave the world of mundane distraction and instant gratification behind for almost a week. There is a carefully orchestrated method to its madness, from the menagerie of colorful characters parading about the grounds to the decadent decorations adorning every tree, hillside and false façade.

Nowhere else are the frat bros and party girls bombarded with the constant reminders to “be green,” “pack it in, pack it out” or “leave it better.” Burning Man and its very relevant principle of Radical Inclusion comes to mind. While the scale of veterans to virgins is obviously tipping towards the latter, the newcomers stand to learn the most important truths.

One thing that LIB does better than any other festival (outside of Burning Man) is the combination of art installations and immersive environments. From sunsets atop Meditation Lookout to the giant telescope at the Black Rock Observatory, from comedy and improv at the Jive Joint to burlesque and cabaret at Amori’s, from the First Annual Do LaB Soap Box Derby Invitational to a Rube Goldberg Machine-esque Bowling Alley in a ravine, it’s impossible to not be blown away by all that LIB has to offer the eyes.

The constant embracing, endless dancing, and unbelievable appreciation can only be felt in person. We threw sunset parties on the edges of ravines, danced with strangers, made new festival friends, and forgot about the default world. It is moments like these that give us hope that Lightning in a Bottle can continue to grow up without losing its childlike innocence.

The communal vibe isn’t just an ideal, it’s truly felt.

A malange of cirque, spectacle, passion, and the bizarre take the crowd on a journey that is more hallucination than reality. Even thinking back to a couple days ago, I’m not quite sure what I witnessed.