Recovering now from the wilds of Edale Folk Festival π The music was lovely and the warmest-hearted people held fast against the wind and rain… the weather was powerful… storm force gale, bucketing down and near freezing temperatures. We played in a Berber tent, to a smiling audience, comely, hugging mugs of tea and clad in soggy nylon. Afterwards we shared whiskey and jagermesiter, until at evening’s height I waltzed with beautiful Holly, all of us stripped down to thermals in the ceilidh’s heat, soft and warm against the storm outside – eyes beaming with the wine and song. One of those days in England..