Dancing in Fields

Over this summer, I often found myself dancing in fields under the stars.  A couple of these were festivals we had booked, others were just occasions on which I happened.  Some of the bands were big names, some of them were local people with a day job, but loads of talent and verve.

The most unusual was at the Greenbelt Festival, where the poet laureate, Simon Armitage, DJed a set late at night in an open-sided tent.  His choice of hits spanned the decades and had everybody bopping in a friendly crush.  I was wearing a skirt stitched with mirrors and became a human glitter ball. 

Since Covid, it is plain to see that dancing with other people, friends and strangers, is a privilege.

The school term has started now, the nights are drawing in and the news is very gloomy.  I face this winter with more than usual trepidation.  The question is, in bleak November, will I be able once more to take out those memories of whirling under moonlit skies and use them to fuel me through the short sombre days?

With green/renewable electricity, provided by wind turbines or solar panels, the greatest challenge is to develop a way of storing the energy for days when the wind does not blow or the sun doesn’t shine.  I fear the human memory is also deficient in this way. 

Therefore, in my kitchen, I shall have to replay the tracks and shut my eyes and pretend I am in a hay-scented paddock somewhere, and dance.

Photos are from the Greenbelt Festival