The light shines through the window at that back of the
church, casting a pool of brightness on those of us at the front. Will we do
the Shakespeare one, we wonder? “Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,” he
tells us. What a sharp contrast to the very first time we performed at the Buxton
Fringe, when a sudden storm brought us our audience as folk rushed for shelter.
Actually, it wasn’t too hot. It was just right. Look at the
photo we managed to take outside.
“Those of us who are kneeling had better stand at the back.
We don’t want them seeing our wet knees.”
There was no need. It was actually warm enough that by the time
we started our performance the dampness had gone.
What an obedient audience, we thought – or at least hoped. We’d
said doors would be open by 2.45 and by 2.40 there were only the helpers and
one guest. We needn’t have worried. Everyone else was outside enjoying the
sunshine. By 3.00 p.m. the middle of the church was pretty full. There were
many familiar faces in the audience. The friends of St Mary’s Church are now our
friends. They always look after us so well.
I spot a Buxton Fringe badge. “We meet at last,” says the
wearer. It is Keith Savage who is the
Buxton Fringe, and who reviewed
us and highly commended us two years ago. We’ve exchanged several emails over
the years. Keith and the people who run the Fringe are always so helpful and enthusiastic,
too.
Once again, it is quite magical performing with the people we
rehearse with every Tuesday evening. We don’t stand in our parts and Jeff only
conducts I Say a Little Prayer. We have
to do a lot of counting and really end those phrases well. Someone writes in the
comments: “Lovely professional sound and clear diction.” We manage then? We are
helped also by the warmth of the audience. On the whole, also, I think we
rather like this new regime of being “scattered”.
It is a real privilege to help St Mary’s start their centenary
celebrations. They have a whole series of events and have produced a pretty
little post card. Well worth a visit.
Cake, of course, is also glorious. What a spread!
“Hope you get home all right,” says one of the church
members. “There’s snow predicted.” What? Perhaps we need to refer to our mate Bill S’s
words again. “Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.” Well, it’s not May
yet, actually, and Buxton is pretty high up.
We don’t sing the Shakespeare song. Not this time.
There isn’t a problem with snow either. The drive home is glorious.
