Wednesday, 21 July 2010

The bells, the bells

The wild honesty is going to seed and the rose bay willow herb is losing its spikes of cerise flowers, like a sparkler in reverse. The clouds lie in still layers as the sun goes down, illuminating the witch on a broomstick weather vane on the house down the path.

It is the middle of July in The Enchanted Village but it feels much later. The children have almost broken up but it could be the end of August. The parched fields are damp with much-needed rain and in the mornings the mist hangs over Bluebell Hill like a shroud.

But hark, what sounds are coming from the village square? A rustle and tinkle, the clash of sticks and a jolly accordion under a colourful umbrella. The Wessex Morris Men are on tour. But there is cacophony in the wings. Never mind morris dancing waking the earth and bringing forth new life. The noise is enough to wake the dead.
They've only gone and chosen to perform on the bellringers' weekly practice night.
Hankies wave furiously as the church bells ding and dong.
A small crowd gathers. Someone goes up to the bell tower to have a quiet word. The church bells stop and the tower captain comes down to watch the Morris Men. Half an hour goes by and their performance is over.
The big bells resume. Harmony is restored.

That's about it.

Love Maddie x

2 comments:

  1. it sounds lovely and very merry indeed to me, but surely you went out for a quick dance yourself?

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  2. Very cacophonous post!
    We have Morris Dancers here. I always find them a little bit frightening.

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