Battle of Nevermore

As evenings of worship go, our liturgical "Battle of Evermore" was, well, interesting.

There were all those people demanding to vote on who should be the Queen of Light, for starters. If recent events  in the Middle East have taught us anything, it is surely that when people start wanting a say in things that's when the trouble starts.

Hearing the drums shaking the chapel wall, Drayton turned up, declared that the whole event was pagan nonsense, and stomped back to his Manse. Then he jumped on his bike and went off to shout at some people at a party in Aspley Heath. So I think it is fair to say that the Dark Lord rides tonight.

Then we heard the horses' thunder down in the valley below - eerie, unearthly - an act of genius. Or, at least, it was until the horses came crashing through the Orchard, where we were dancing in the darkness and waiting for the Eastern Glow. Beaker People scattering in all directions, and one of the Angels of Avalon ran straight into a tree. Went off in a right hump, as well. They've got no soul, those Angels of Avalon.

Speaking of Avalon of the Apple Trees, we drew a bit of a blank on the "apples of the valley". There's a  bit of a dearth of native apples around the place at the minute, what with us having pulped them all into cider back in the autumn. So we had to buy a load in from the market. Burton got a job-lot cheap at clearing-off time on the fruit stall.  So when Mr Plant sings of the sky being filled with good and bad, I reckon he's referring to the giant apple-fight that inevitably breaks out, when a bunch of frustrated worshippers are wondering how to fill in time until the Eastern Glow. That would also explain why the apples turn to brown and black, and Tyrone's face went red.

And what we thought were the Ringwraiths riding tonight, turned out to be the Towcester Area Motor Bike Society coming down to the White Horse for their monthly general knowledge quiz. They might have been scary twenty-five years ago, but these days they just want a pint and a  bag of pork scratchings.

Oh, well, the night is long - the beads of time pass slow. And we figured we wouldn't be seeing any Eastern Glow for absolutely hours. We should have done this at midsummer. So everybody sloped off for a pint. If anyone gets up early enough, they can catch the Eastern Glow in the morning.

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Anyway, to cheer myself up I'm watching this version of the real thing. Personally I prefer it to the Led Zeppelin versions doing the round on YouTube.