Festival of Hope

"If you are going to post your creative writing, couldn't you choose something less profane?" says Lady Mondegreen, arching an eyebrow.
"Do you think I should have chosen something sacred to fill my absence? My story about St Freidswide maybe?" Love. Compassion...
" A little decorum, that's all I ask. How was the Folk Festival?"

It nearly didn't happen this year,

but over an Indian- Summer Easter; amongst vineyards and olive groves; on the banks of the Waipara River,

the annual Canterbury Folk Festival, overcame post-Earthquake blues and financial doubt, to bloom again.

Pared down but not reduced to mediocrity: blessed with committed organisers from the Christchurch Folk Music Club , talented musicians, professional and amateur,

the festival celebrated local and international talent: from the feisty story-telling of Fiddlesticks
through gypsy-jazz duo La Petite Manouche
the roll-you-in-the-aisles humour of Iain Mitchell and sidekick, Danny,
to the tortured genius of Daniel Champagne 

But the strongest theme to emerge this year was that the youth of today will continue to carry music forward.  Diverse, talented, enquiring children and young adults stole the show throughout the weekend.

Easter. Anzac Day. Falling together this year:
A double dose of Remembrance for suffering and sacrifice.
And for me, my own memories welling to the surface with so many of the songs and tunes played this weekend:
Rights of Man
The Chastity Belt
The Waves of Tory
Lily the Pink
She Moved Through the Fair
Take Five
at this, my first folk festival without Elwin.