Be The Jam

Well not quite a full moon but pretty close, last night that is.

It was a cloudless night, that's how I know the moon was nearly full - I could see it! It got me thinking, it's a powerful thing this moon. Steeped in mystery and general weirdness, there are many myths and oddities related to the moon. Here in the north of Europe for example a full moon is traditionally the time when people turn into wolves and harangue livestock and pretty girls, that combination has long worried me. Over in the east, Thailand, India and the like, full moon is the time when they traditionally take massive great stacks of speakers down to the beach, gather up boat loads of western yoof and feed them industrial strength love drugs, watch them twitch in time to music, and harangue pretty girls. Hmmm I see a theme here.

Last night was nearly a full moon and I did not, not even nearly turn into a wolf. I did eat 8 sausages and a swiss roll but I don't think that counts. Being dark and in the middle of nowhere there was not even any girls, pretty or otherwise, for the haranguing, well there was one out jogging but it didn't really seem to be the time or the place. There was plenty of livestock hanging about being lowly but I really couldn't see the appeal.

Not being in either Thailand or India I didn't find my way to a full moon party, some friends of mine were playing poker but again I'm not sure if this counts. I was down by the river which I guess could be interpreted as being a beach of sorts but there was a distinct lack of soundsystems, lazers and crowds of cheering people; I know, I looked. 

What there was was a river, a lot of mist and not much in the way of warmth, even the fire I lit guttered away sadly to itself and took an age to boil the water. In retrospect going swimming was a pretty silly thing to do, but at the time it seemed like a good idea. No actually, I don't think it even seemed like a good idea at the time. I'm not sure why I went swimming, I blame the moon. The water was cold, oh so very very cold, I think I squeaked when I got in and I didn't stay long.

The main problem was what next, being away from "base camp" I didn't have a towel, I could use my jumper but then that would be wet. The original plan had been to warm up by the fire but it really wasn't giving off much warmth at all; smoke? Smoke it was giving off - oh yes loads of it, but that isn't warm at all. I crouched by the fire for a moment feeling a little silly when out of the dark and mist slid a canoe.

"Evening"

"Nice night for it"

I prodded the embers and hopefully lifted the lid on the pan to see if the water was boiling yet, it wasn't. I decided to do press ups until I was warm and dry but discovered that I can't do that many so ran up and down a bit and then got dressed. I felt invigorated, full of life, absolutely brilliant. Midnight swimming is good for the soul.

After that I played a game called "is it smoke or mist?" In this the contestant, me, sits next to a measly fire waiting for his sausages to burn / water to boil and guess at the nature of the air born white stuff floating towards him. If it is smoke he is rewarded with stinging eyes and having to hold his breath; if it is mist he gets to feel a little sick and contemplate the wisdom of eating an entire swiss roll.

After that I fell out of a tree and went to bed.

In the morning I was much amused to find the entire river bank awash with anglers all of whom were laden down with piles and piles of equipment. Strange behaviour if you ask me. I had planned to start the day with a quick dip but gratefully figured that this would scare the fish so I best give it a miss so I had to content myself with starting the day with a mug of tea in Georgina's in the covered market and a pan au chocolate from the Farmer's market on Gloucester Green.