To Charlie from a mountain on fire

I write to Charlie a lot. And he writes to me a lot. It's good, it's great. It's my favourite form of communication, probably, maybe after pizzacato.

So, with that in mind, how about a semi-regular feature:

To Charlie from...
 ?

This week's is from Fire on the Mountain Festival, where I played three gigs (one Waitress for the Bees, one with Nuala, one with Beth) yesterday and had a most amazing time. Here, here you go: 

"And oh, it was so good! Such a good festival day, today! Oh, oh, oh.

Some small northern children gave me a survey to find out my nature name. Turns out my nature name is 'Feather.'

And I played my gig and the tent was full and getting fuller and got an encore (at a festival?!) and sold CDS (at a festival!) and lots of nice and good-looking and friendly people said nice things after.

Oh, and a guy from the BBC world service was there approached me and took my card and will-be-in-touch.

And then! Climbed a mountain (Welsh-style mountain. Aka mini) with Liz Greenfield and Beth and were passed first by:

-Five Brown horses

then, a few minutes later, by

-Two Grey horses

then, a few minutes later, by

-One white horse.

Later on there was a point on the trail where it's forest on both sides and a gate in front you have to climb over, and, between us and the gate, all in a clump on the path, were all eight horses. Big huge horses with mega-powered legs. Probably docile and nice, but how could we know for sure? So we scrambled into the forest to try and find another way through, and the horses all tried to follow us. I had to yell at Liz, Dammit, Greenfield, faster! Faster or our lives!

And there was a sauna I went in. And afterwards a drummer friend showed me the one spot where the river was deep and we did cold cold plunges.

And two more gigs. One with wet hair, cold fingers, one without.

It was: very good. And that is the abbreviated story of my day. Yours?

x e"