Cloud

 

Good with haddock

Been away from the internet for the last few days.  I said goodbye to Andrea, Jonathan, Rachel and Robin at the Monday rehearsal for Sent/Received, started the car, and wound up in the Lake District.  It’s been a good few days off- as well as the obligatory fish & chips & local beer in Keswick, I managed to find my way up the side of a fell.

When we set off for Skiddaw, it was one of those Autumn mornings full of promise and sunshine; good enough to keep you going in the cold as you tramped along the path.  Then we hit the cloud cover - thicker and thicker, wetter and wetter.
It’s been a terrific experience watching the rehearsals for Sent/Received, but now the cloud has come down around me as I make my way to its premiere in Sheffield on Saturday night, before a second night in Nottingham on Halloween.

Probably the summit,
with view across to
Bassenthwaite.  Probably.

Standing in a cloud is a strange thing.  The water vapour drifts past your eyes, and the lack of distance vision creeps up on you until you realise you can't see beyond ten paces ahead.  Or ten paces behind.  And although the path up the fell is well laid out, and the cairns solid and frequent, you get an eerie feeling the herdwick sheep were on to something when they stayed put as you climbed past them.  All you can rely on are your ancient instincts, like your ancestors did before satnav. 

That you will find your way.

At the last rehearsal, there was an incredible moment where I forgot I’d written the script, and got lost in the performance; I’m trusting my instincts that the audience will get lost in the same cloud and enjoy Sent/Received the same way.  If you’re coming along to either night, say hello; it’ll be good to share the journey off the peak before I set off for the next one.