When our kids are little we’re required; someone has to be with them. Mine are just big enough that now gallivanting is an option. So on Saturday I went to Ledbury (Poetry) Festival and, yesterday, to a local music festival – “local bands for local people” (no, not remotely like that) – in Colwall village on their second cricket field, the Ghost Meadow.
The bands kicked off at noon. The sun shone and fat, white clouds floated across an improbably – for almost the Welsh boarders – blue sky. It was a glorious day. I sipped water, read poetry (I have rather a pile of new books from Ledbury, mmm) and chatted to friends who drifted to and fro, in and out of the loud zone by the pavilion. Naked Remedy had me pogoing (sedately … maybe not) and then Four Tart Harmony and Men In General rounded off the evening as the sun sank below the clouds in a crimson blaze, casting long shadows across the fairy rings at the long leg boundary.