Massage, Rainbows and Yarn

The third year on the hills. The programme was quieter but thoughtful: a yarn-spinning workshop, a smell workshop, and on the Thursday a nocturnal massage station that ran late into the night. On the Friday we held a tea serving session. The sky that year was spectacular — astonishing cloud formations and plenty of rainbows. But the hills had become considerably livelier, with several large sound camps nearby, and the noise made sleeping difficult and the energy harder to hold. It planted the seed of a question: was it time to move?