Tonight I went and sat by Meanwood Beck and listened for the low voices you sometimes hear in the rushing water, the moon was bright orange, low in the sky and dissolving from the top.
The melting snow had given the water a more oppressive sound though, Meanwood beck was in too much of a hurry to talk today.
I'll be performing my first Morris dance out at the Field of Wakes on the last weekend of February for the Rhubarb Festival, one of the dances will be a NW Morris version (with stomping and whooping!) of Mona's Delight, a lovely dance collected from the Isle of Man:
I'll be the one messing up the last figure.