It’s back to work today with batteries recharged after a truly wonderful weekend.
I’ve spent the last four days in a field on Exmoor. A small field, next to a stream, with a small stone circle around a fire-pit.
There was no mobile phone signal, no electricity, and just a few basic facilities in another field which was reached over a little creaky wooden bridge.
There were also people, around 60 of us all told, from young kids to a few who could be classed as elders (although it was sometimes hard to tell the difference). All drawn together to celebrate the good things in life; good food and drink, music and laughter – lots of laughter. I won’t bore you with all the details, but we learned from each other, those with a skill sharing it freely, whether it was making something crafty, or making music. We celebrated the handfasting of two of our friends, and in the evening we danced barefoot under the stars to the sounds of real music (even those of us who can’t dance).
I’m now sat here listening to the hum of the air-con and the rattle of a fan, trying to catch a glimpse of the outside world through the blinds and ignore the grumbling of others, but a part of me is still sat with the grass between my toes.
I’ve spent the last four days in a field on Exmoor. A small field, next to a stream, with a small stone circle around a fire-pit.
There was no mobile phone signal, no electricity, and just a few basic facilities in another field which was reached over a little creaky wooden bridge.
There were also people, around 60 of us all told, from young kids to a few who could be classed as elders (although it was sometimes hard to tell the difference). All drawn together to celebrate the good things in life; good food and drink, music and laughter – lots of laughter. I won’t bore you with all the details, but we learned from each other, those with a skill sharing it freely, whether it was making something crafty, or making music. We celebrated the handfasting of two of our friends, and in the evening we danced barefoot under the stars to the sounds of real music (even those of us who can’t dance).
I’m now sat here listening to the hum of the air-con and the rattle of a fan, trying to catch a glimpse of the outside world through the blinds and ignore the grumbling of others, but a part of me is still sat with the grass between my toes.