May Day

Day 201: Of all the events I attended as a Morris dancer, May Day was possibly my favourite even though it meant getting up at 2 AM to be in Seattle to meet up with the other most stalwart members of Sound & Fury and other Morris sides from the general area. We'd gather at Gasworks Park on Lake Union, there to dance the sun into the sky, although it must be admitted that sometimes it was obscured by cloud. We never failed to achieve our goal. Then covid hit, and by the time I was willing to expose myself to other human beings, I had grown too old to make the weekly drive to practices so far away, and had to hang up my bells. Today, the team danced as usual at Gasworks, and I...well, I didn't dress for the occasion, but I did dance a wee jig with Merry indoors. This is my tribute to Morris dancers everywhere, all of you together, for your mutual contribution to ensure the Earth another circuit around the sun.

A Visit From The Mistletoe Fairy

Day 112: When the mailman backed into my driveway yesterday afternoon, I was puzzled. I wasn't expecting a package of any sort. When I saw the return address, I understood. It was from the Mistletoe Faerie/Fairy, our Morris-dance group's holiday gift-giver. That said, I was surprised because although I had elected not to participate in our annual exchange this year, they nevertheless chose to remember me. Inside was an assortment of gifts, including a small quartz crystal which didn't make it into the photo because I only found it on the kitchen table when I sat down to eat dinner. Given my advancing years and inability to drive long distances plus worries about covid, I'm doubtful I'll ever be able to dance with the group again, but it's heartwarming to know that I made some good friends there. I miss you all!

Paradise River Dam Reprised

Day 107: There's a reason I'm posting photos from eight years ago. It has to do with Morris dancing. Yeah, that's what I said: Morris dancing. Last night, our side (Sound & Fury) held its annual "Mistletoe Faerie" gift exchange, similar to the traditional office "secret Santa" swap. I was certainly not prepared for what Mark O'Kelly had in store for me, not by a long shot. Since we'd drawn names in early November, Mark (who is very talented) had been doing research into the activites of your favourite ranger, and had pulled them together in a song to the tune of "She'll Be Coming Round the Mountain" and presented it to me both as a written copy and in live performance before the rest of the group. I was laughing before the first verse had concluded:

"She's been ranging round the mountain through the years
She's been ranging round the mountain through the years
Through the forests and the valleys
She doesn't dilly dally
She's been ranging round the mountain through the years."

Reading ahead of Mark's singing, I began to get a feel for how deeply he'd delved when I hit the third verse:

"She'll snowshoe to the cabin when it's cold
She'll snowshoe to the cabin when it's really really cold
No matter if it's freezin'
For her it's just a breeze in
She'll snowshoe to the cabin when it's cold."

But I really lost it when I hit verse five:

"Then one day in Paradise she found a dam
One day in Paradise she found a long lost dam
She released the river's waters
Now she's one of Neptune's Daughters
One day in Paradise she found a long lost dam."

Never mind a slight historical inaccuracy (I did not bust the dam), at this point I said, "HOW THE HELL DID YOU KNOW OUT ABOUT THE DAM?" but Mark just kept on singing.

One would be rightfully shocked to know how much information the internet holds about one's personal, private self, but at that moment, I could not recall having ever mentioned the Paradise River Dam to anyone outside the Park colleagues who had sent me out to find it. Mark had managed to find an article in our Volunteer blog, an interview with yours truly in which I told the story in brief. I realize now that I had also posted it in more detail in 365Caws, a reprise of which follows. Mark, I know you're not on Facebook, so I hope someone from Sound & Fury shares this with you. This was the BEST Mistletoe Faerie gift ever. Thank you!

*****
July 20, 2012
Follow the Penstock

When the call went out for a photographer who was willing to bushwhack through dense brush given only vague directions for finding an old and dilapidated concrete dam on the Paradise River, I waved my hand furiously in the air while jumping up and down yelling, "Me! Me! Me!" There is nothing I like better than an Adventure, and when only a handful of my colleagues had any remote idea that this dam even existed, let alone knew where it was, I couldn't resist the lure.

I suppose I should offer the backstory here because it's quite amusing. Some time in the last couple of weeks, Mount Rainier National Park received an edict from the Federal Government stating that all hydroelectric dams were to be brought up to a particular standard by such-and-so date. The Paradise River Dam was on their list. At eight feet high and approximately fifteen feet wide, it wasn't much of a power producer even in its heyday; nevertheless, its kilowatts had gone on record and no one had ever bothered to mention that it had fallen into serious disrepair. The wooden penstocks have been maintained where they are close to a trail, but where they debouch into the forest, they are often in the condition shown here if, in fact, there is even that much structure left. Mossed over, buried by soil, crushed by fallen trees, the penstock was what I needed to locate in order to track it to its source, the dam.

Well, as I said, I love an Adventure. When I lost the visible sections of the penstock, I began thinking like an engineer, puzzling out where the pipes might lay. I followed a variety of subtle visual clues, a slight subsidence of the land, a cutbank where there was no natural reason for one to occur, and eventually, I came upon an exposed section of the wire framework which held the wooden slats together. I spent some time disentangling blueberry bushes from my glasses, unhooking bootlaces from unseen sticks, freeing my packstraps from snagging branches, but yes, I found the dam. I spent a couple of hours prowling over the structure taking photos from various angles, estimating length and width and surface area of various components. It was only once I was content with the data and images I had gathered that I happened to glance up at the sky. We'd had a morning of hard thundershowers, and it looked like another system was moving in. I packed up my gear, pleased with my success, and followed the penstock back to easy trail and down the miles to the car.

St. Luke's Fete Mystery - Styrax Officinalis

Day 337: For the last several years, Sound & Fury has danced at St. Luke's English Fete in Renton. We did so again yesterday, and afterwards I sat for an hour with the ladies who were spinning wool, the conversation centered on the topics of fiber and sheep. As I stood up to leave, that which had been hanging above my head the whole time caught my eye. "What in the heck is THAT?" I said, and anyone who has ever been on a botany hike with me would have recognized my tone: Crow had found a mystery plant.

The mystery proved fairly easy to solve. Mark Turner's excellent "Trees and Shrubs of the Pacific Northwest" gave me my first clue. Although only a rare bush-like California species (S. redivivus) is included in the book, further digging brought up descriptions of other Styrax species. While I am not 100% positive that this is S. officinalis (my specimen was a little the worse for wear by the time I got it home), the height of the tree exceeds the upper limits for S. redivivus by a substantial margin. S. officinalis is also more likely to be available from commercial growers.

According to my references, the resin of S. officinalis is fragrant, and it (or that from related species) can be used in combination with other substances to make incense and perfumes. Indeed, my fingers were left very sticky after peeling the outer husk (still green and sappy) away from a small brown nutlet. The flowers of the tree are white and also highly aromatic, in appearance not too unlike those of shadbush (serviceberry). I think I'm going to have to take a trip back to St. Luke's in the spring when the tree is in full bloom.

Postman's Knock

Day 317: As we do in celebration of May Day, Seattle's Morris sides gather at some point near Labor Day to acknowledge the closing of the summer season. In past years, we've performed at Seattle's Alki Beach, but an unexpected conflict with another event necessitated a last-minute move to Greenlake, the requisites being a large flat space on which to dance and a view across water toward the sunset. Together in rotation with the Mossybacks and North by Northwest, we danced the sun down and then retired to a nearby pub. We still have several events on our calendar for the upcoming months. We'll be at St. Luke's in Renton on September 14 and at Finn River Cidery (Chimacum) on October 13 for World Apple Day.

Steampunk Morris

Day 281: It's either feast or famine. For the last couple of weeks, the weather has been typical of the Pacific Northwe't, i.e., on the gloomy and grey end of the spectrum, if only moderately damp. Those of us native to the state love it; it's what keeps us green. After all, we're the Evergreen State. However, all good things must come to an end (however much we might have been enjoying late lettuce), and as the time to today's gig grew close, the forecast edged toward a high in the upper 80s. Fortunately, our first performance of the day was at 10 AM at the Ballard Bell Tower, done before the heat could turn us into a Morris meltdown. The second set was at Hiram Chittenden Locks where a nice breeze and an abundance of shade trees made dancing much more pleasant. That said, we chose to wear our steampunk kit, and I can assure you that dancing in a corset on a hot day isn't for sissies. Then it was off to the pub we went, steamy steampunks the lot of us.

A Motley Crew

Day 239: Now there's a motley crew! Sound & Fury danced in Port Townsend yesterday, the featured entertainers at the Brass Screw Confederacy's steampunk fair. We'd been anxious about rain all week, but the weather turned nice for the event, perhaps even a little too nice for those of us in multiple layers and corsets. Morris dancing is a very energetic sport, but fortunately, none of our ladies (or gentlemen, for that matter) needed smelling salts or medical aid. After performing two sets, we walked among the other beautifully costumed attendees and then set sail for home.

Lichens And Morris Dancers

Day 152: You'd think it would be pretty hard to make a connection between lichens and Morris dancers in a single post, but here you have it. Sound & Fury observes a winter holiday tradition we call "the Mistletoe Faerie." You probably have something similar in your workplace. Some time before Christmas, names are drawn for a gift exchange, no person to know exactly who their representative from the Mistletoe Fey is until Twelfth Night (or the nearest practice date) when the gifts are delivered. Several factors caused me to miss six weeks of practice, including the critical gift exchange. When I returned this past Monday, my Mistletoe Faerie delivered her gift. I'd forgotten about the plea I'd put out on Facebook for Daphnie Stone's "aide memoire" to the Usneas of the area and was surprised and overjoyed when I unwrapped it. Yesterday, I gave it a field test. I needed a walk and decided to take an overgrown side trail of Nisqually-Mashel State Park, an Usnea-rich area if ever there was one. Field guide in hand, I was able to put a name to a species which has puzzled me in the past. Usnea flavocardia is identified by its fibril, pinched at the base like the tip of a cigar, as well as the presence of little red dots on the thallus. Thank you, Mistletoe Faerie, and thank you, Mistletoe Fey for...well, you know, that other thing.

Alki Danceout

Day 319: Wildfire smoke kept Sound & Fury from having a practice last week, and as of yesterday morning, it looked like our annual Alki Beach danceout might be cancelled as well. Our Squire sent out a poll to see how many of us would be available if we went forward, and at 1 PM, air quality had improved sufficiently to go ahead. Our side was represented by over a dozen dancers and half a dozen musicians, performing in rotation with dancers from Misty City and North by Northwest to a small crowd of onlookers. Even so, some smoke haze veiled the Seattle skyline and Olympic mountains, and I bet I'm not the only one of us who woke this morning with a scratchy throat and irritated eyes. Smoke levels should be improving this week.

Postcard Tug

Day 298: Yesterday evening, Sound & Fury danced in performance at Seattle's Hiram M. Chittenden Locks, a site known to locals as the "Ballard Locks." This complex of locks allows ships passage from the salt waters of Puget Sound to Lake Union and Lake Washington. Salt water is prevented from intruding into the freshwaters of the two lakes by means of a dredged basin in which the heavier salt water settles and drains back into the Sound. According to official sources, the Ballard Locks see the most ship traffic of any lock in the United States. On the north side of the Locks, visitors may also stroll through the manicured grounds of Carl S. English Jr. Botanical Gardens, read about the project or shop at the visitor center, or on certain occasions, pause to enjoy the sight of Morris dancers clashing sticks and flagging handkerchiefs to the sound of bells.

I arrived early, having had some other business in Seattle, and took advantage of the time for photography and a little geocaching. As I walked across the foot-bridges spanning the locks, I recalled passing through them as a child in my father's little cabin cruiser. To a child of seven or eight years, the algae-coated concrete walls and looming machinery were somewhat intimidating, and the length of time it took for the water levels to be adjusted felt interminable. Even then, I wanted to be out on open water, angling for anything which would take a bait. For me, that usually meant a dogfish, Puget Sound's "mini-shark," even more frightening than the claustrophobic atmosphere of the locks. My dad would either gaff them and throw them back, or take the carcases home to plant under the fruit trees, a practice which he claimed prevented peach-leaf curl. On the other hand, my parents caught flounder, cod and (unintentionally) sea anemones and starfish, both of which intrigued me. Sometimes, we'd cross the sound and put into a small bay where the warmer water invited my folks to swim. I'd paddle around in the shallows wearing a life jacket, and on one memorable occasion, I panicked and had to be hoisted back into the boat when I saw a ray and thought it was pursuing me. The end of the day meant another tedious passage through the locks, one which usually found me sound asleep in the cabin, thoroughly worn out from the seafaring adventures headed up by the captain I adored.

Folklife Morris Showcase

Day 226: What a fantastic day! Sound & Fury danced as part of Folklife's "Morris Dance Showcase" yesterday, performing in the morning on the indoor Armory stage and in the afternoon, on McCaw Promenade in perfect weather. I didn't count the number of sides, but there were 8-10 from local groups and as far away as Moscow ID, Eugene OR and Vancouver BC representing a variety of Morris traditions. Dances were done in rotation with the other groups, giving us plenty of time between sets to catch our breath and take some photos.

Bells, Sticks And Hankies

Day 144: I get one of two reactions when I tell people I'm a Morris dancer. Most commonly, it's "What's that?" but occasionally, I'm rewarded with an enthusiastic, "I love Morris dancing!" and as often as not, that's likely to be followed by, "I lived in England for a couple of years." It surprises me that Morris isn't better known in the US, although I hear that interest is on the upswing. Morris teams are referred to as "sides," and Seattle has several. The group I dance with (Sound & Fury) is a "mixed side," i.e., both men and women. We dance largely in the Adderbury tradition and perform throughout the year with most gigs being engaged during the summer months. Our weekly practices are something I really anticipate, even though I don't get home until almost midnight. Listen! Do you hear bells? The Morris dancers are coming!

Sew Many Things

Day 78: As newly-appointed Kit Mistress for Sound & Fury Morris, my job is to see to it that members are properly outfitted with the custom costume items they can't buy off the shelves. In particular, this means that I need to have on hand baldrics (bandoliers) and armbands for new members. With Wassail coming up on January 6 and three new people in the side, I have been stitching up a storm the last few days! I'm still short a few bits and bobs, notably our signature logo patches which are at the center crosses of the baldrics (front and back), but fortunately Wassail is largely a celebration which takes place in the homes of other Morris dancers. Only one public performance is on the roster, so hopefully the lack of full regalia will be forgiven.

Finn River FarmAll

Day 26: It was a blustery, chill day, so even if I hadn't been up to my eyeballs in meetings and paperwork, I wouldn't have gone out in the snow to search for a fresh science lesson for my readers. As a matter of fact, I wasn't much inclined to do anything today, and told Kevin that I'd seriously considered "calling in worthless" as a more honest statement than "calling in sick." Consequently, here I am, home at last, without a blog shot for the day and feeling much like just going to bed and pulling the blankies up over my head. Some days are just like that, but the day I took this photo wasn't one of them. We were dancing the Morris at Finn River Cidery, and during the break between sets, I discovered a FarmAll, a real tractor, the kind my daddy used to drive. Right there, Finn River won me over. I've been looking for an excuse to post the image. Vile weather tipped the scales.

Finn River Raven

Day 3: Sound & Fury Morris danced yesterday at Finn River Cidery in Chimacum. After the first set, I happened to notice an old friend in the audience: Raven, carrying his customary bit of the sun's fire, perched on a branch above the plaza. There could have been no better omen for the day.

Chimacum is a long way from home, so I had planned an Expedition to include a little geocaching and botanizing on the way up the Olympic Peninsula. The two go hand-in-hand. Caching often takes me into the woods, and I assumed that the more marine environment along Hood Canal would provide a wealth of lichens. It didn't take me long to figure out that I had entered a lichenological dead zone instead. Even the maples were bare of colonies. Botanically, the only thing worth noting was the presence of a few cascara trees in an area I would have thought was too heavily shaded to support them. At the cidery, I found minor lichenization of maples which included a Xanthoria and a Parmelia. Still, I had managed to get out into nature to experience a different ecological niche even if I hadn't made any amazing discoveries.

Thrifty Scot that I am, I decided that to avoid a $6 toll-bridge crossing at the expense of $3 in gas and 45 minutes of my time, I'd drive home the long way, i.e., down Highway 101 through Shelton and Olympia. It was a good choice. A canopy of green and gold filtered the slanting light of sunset as I drove through the National Forest, a far more pleasant way to end the day than barrelling along a freeway.

Summer's End

Day 320: Massed Morris sides danced the sun up on May Day, and last night Sound & Fury, Misty City, the Mossyback Morris Men and the Morris Offspring danced it down at Alki Beach in West Seattle, symbolically closing out the summer. It was a beautiful setting for a performance, and concluded with a processional with members of all four sides circling the down-scaled representation of Lady Liberty which overlooks Puget Sound. We still have several more gigs coming up over the next two months, and although we're taking September off from practices, we'll resume the drill in October at our indoor venue on Phinney Ridge. There are new dances and songs to learn, ale and cider to be drunk, new friends to be made. This is the celebration which is Morris!

Sound & Fury Steampunk Morris

Day 283: Sound & Fury stepped outside tradition yesterday to dance at the Fairhaven Steampunk Festival (Bellingham), and it was one of the most delightful non-botanical experiences I've had in many years. It was Sound & Fury's second year performing at this event. We danced two sets as the temperature rose, breaking between them for cool beverages and lunch at the local pub. My new steampunk persona Finnie (Feannagh) MacLeod made her first public appearance and was honoured to be asked to pose for portraits by several bystanders. I found that dancing in a corset isn't quite as difficult as it sounds, and definitely improves the posture. We will be appearing again in regular kit at the Ballard Locks Monday evening, and at a selection of Woodinville cideries on July 29.

Of Corsets Snug

Day 278: Sound & Fury Morris will be performing at the Fairhaven Steampunk Festival in Bellingham this Saturday. It was as good an excuse as any to make a new outfit. Even though I dislike sewing, I enjoy costuming. In this case, I used a commercial pattern (Simplicity 3677), but made a few tweaks to the method of construction which better accommodated the bulk of fabric involved in joining a lined skirt to a heavily lined and interfaced bodice. Nor was the pattern available in my size, so a number of other adjustments were needed to tailor it. Having said that, I now have greater sympathy for those corseted ladies of the Victorian era. Snugged into the bodice, my posture is improved at the sacrifice of my ability to breathe. Dance? I'm glad I don't have to bend over very far to strike my stick on the ground in "Horsham."

Now a question arises: who is this Victorian adventuress? My various personas have their own individual names, generally something to do with "Crow" coupled with a variation of the stage name I used when performing publicly as a Celtic harpist, Margot de Morgan. From this, Capt. Morgan Corbye was drawn ("corbye," "corby," "corbie" and "corbel" are alternate spellings of an Olde English word meaning "crow"). Her identical twin sister is Kat (Katherine)..."Kat" because I have cats. Fictitious actress Katherine Crowe has starred on a theater playbill (ironically, this is the real name of another Morris dancer!), and Kitty Black Crow is a villain on a western "Wanted" poster. The adventuress' steampunk character has not had a chance to develop, although I suspect she is a botanist of some renown. Should I force a name upon her, or as they say, "let the puppy name itself once you've brought it home?" Maybe more time in the corset will settle the issue.

Father's Day Tour

Day 249: First, I'd like to thank Squire Dan for capturing our Father's Day performances and making the photos available to members of the side. We are Sound & Fury Morris!

Our Father's Day venues included the Ballard Farmer's Market where we danced at the bell tower before an appreciative audience of a hundred people or more. We performed in rotation with the Morris Offspring, the four children of our side's members. We then moved on to Hiram Chittenden Locks (aka "the Ballard Locks"), dancing on the plaza between beautifully manicured gardens. Again, we drew a sizeable audience, and I'm sure there will be hundreds of photos of us surfacing across the globe as people post highlights of their summer holidays. I was surprised by the number of people who recognized Morris dancing, but of course there were also a lot of questions along the lines of, "What country is that from?"

All in all, it was a great day, ending off with the traditional pub stop at a cidery, and the delightful camaraderie of the side.

Sound & Fury Morris At Folklife

Day 230: First of all, I would like to thank the photographer from Merry Missives of Moscow for providing these images of our Sunday performance at Folklife. The Merry Missives are young dancers who attend a charter school in Moscow ID. They have no musicians of their own, so Sound & Fury's musos played for them. It was a privilege to share the stage with such an enthusiastic group of youngsters. They will carry the tradition of Morris dance into the next generation.

We performed in rotation with the Merry Missives, and opened with our new show piece, "Cobb's Horse." As you all know, I am new to Morris, so it was nice to have other dancers learning steps alongside me. The footwork for Cobb's is fairly simple, i.e., no galleys, no hocklebacks, no great leaps or complicated crossings. I struggled with the terminology at first, but now terms like "process up," "half-gip," "hands around," "foot down" are beginning to make sense. Clashing...well, it's not quite sword-fighting with sticks, but definitely has appeal for this old pirate.

In between dances, I double as a "muso" (musician). I don't have the requisite confidence to play my concertina in front of other members of the side, so I thump the bodhran or shake the tambourine.

Most Morris sides have a "hobby," a term you might equate with "hobby horse." Ours is Finn the Salmon. Finn's job is to accept donations from the audience, as well as occasionally weaving in and out among the performers as they dance. Unfortunately, our Sunday stage was too small for him to interface with us on the dance floor.

Depending on regional tradition, Morris footwork and costumes vary widely. Sound & Fury largely dances in the Adderbury tradition, a high-energy style. Bell pads are worn on the shins, not your standard jingle bell but rather ones made from much heavier brass. The ringing is quite loud! Dances nearly always involve either sticks or hankies, and are appropriately known as "stick dances" or "hanky dances." It might seem odd, but hanky dances are harder to execute since there are more things you can do with hankies and the timing must be perfect.

"Sweet Jenny Jones" is another of the dances I've learned so far with Sound & Fury. It is a stick dance and ends with a hey (dancers weaving between others in their line, returning to their orginal position at the end). In the hey, the top dancer (the one closest to the musicians) always passes right shoulder to right shoulder with the person approaching from below them in the set. Depending on whether you have a three-man line or a four-man line, the dancer at the foot (me) passes right or left respectively, a subtlety which almost always escapes me when my mind is on the footwork. I am happy to say that when I watched a video of our performance of "Jenny," I actually did the hey right for once!

As I mentioned earlier, Adderbury Morris is a particularly high-energy dance. Foreman Dave and Squire Dan catch some REALLY big air when they leap! This move always draws cheers and shouts of "Higher! Higher!" from the crowd.

There is some concern over whether or not Folklife will be able to continue. It started in 1972 as a small "hippie" music fete and has grown to its present state with over 5000 performers and 235,000 attendees in 2017. It's free, and therein lies the rub. It is enormously expensive to engage the entire 1960s World's Fair venue, to say nothing of advertising and other operational costs. This was my first time attending as either a member of the audience or a performer, and I will be back to dance next year if the festival can raise enough donations to continue.