On a worryingly hot October morning, I cycled over Ditchling Beacon for Apple Day 2023, a fun event on the village green for which my folk choir was providing the traditional element.
The kind of gigs the Brighton Folk Choir get invited too are always brilliant, local and mildly eccentric, and Ditchling Apple Day was no different. I could see, from the event description, that we basically had equal headline billing with… the welly wanging competition.
The cycle to the village was nice, save for a couple of idiot drivers doing dangerous overtakes on bends – an Audi and a brand new Land Rover, for those counting. I understand what confirmation bias is, but it really does always seem to be an Audi. [1]
Reaching the village crossroads, and with thoughts of the close passes still in my mind, I saw some elderly protesters, and my heart sank. Please don’t let them be 20mph weirdos, anti-vaxxers, or protesting against other mad conspiracy theories like 15-minute cities or Bill Gates or what have you.
But then I realised they were Quakers, who are usually cool, and were raising awareness of the climate emergency.
I was both relieved and delighted. I stopped to thank them, and to have a little chat about campaigning and building coalitions to help facilitate change. They allowed me to take their photo, which I publish below.
I invited them along to the folk singing, but they said they’d still be protesting, so I wished them luck and solidarity, and crossed the traffic-choked crossroads and headed up to the village green, via a fortifying cup o’ tea.
The Welly Wanging – aged 0-7 category – was in full swing when I arrived. One girl barely able to lift her footwear projectile managed a very respectable 0.7 metres, earning rightful applause. I believe the whole thing gets a lot rowdier when the adults get involved.
From here, I headed up to the orchard, where I was the first to arrive for practice. Jo, our righteous leader, had the idea of teaching us Come Follow Me, in the round, with lyrics tweaked to be about orchards and apples, so as to lure the post-welly crowd along to the performance.
We learned and relearned our parts in this gorgeous community garden, and I copied a fellow choir member in taking my shoes and socks off, and allowing my feet to connect with the fertile ground.
This we managed to get the hang of, and myself and a few other choir singers stayed along with some musicians, who had turned up for the since-cancelled morris dancers, to teach them the parts so they could join in on the procession. One, Ian, the guitarist, was, I believe, the progenitor of Ditchling Apple Day.
“Somehow it’s become all about welly wanging”.
Entrusted with Jo’s mighty stick of folk – “It’s a great honour”, “I only gave it to you before you were the first one here” – I felt possessed by the Spirit of the Lord of Misrule, and on the return to the village green, with the choir dressed up in masks and seasonal garlands, we were able to attract the punters’ attention alright.
The procession was a joyous and anarchic affair. People stopped to watch, and took photos, as we tried to keep it together. Full respect to our lovely new musician friends, especially Seb on the accordion and the Glasweigian double bassist who somehow played the thing over his shoulder. The Highchurches have demanded both join our band, which is quickly approaching Polyphonic Spree levels in terms of additional members.
Punters duly lured, we did a set of three songs, two of them relevant. One thing I love about the choir is how we learn songs specific to the season as the year unfolds. In a time of climate emergency, it feels important to connect with and be aware of the natural world as much as possible, and these songs sure help with the cylicial and unending nature of time.
We sang:
1. All among the Barley
2. The Pear Tree
3. The Farewell Shanty
The first two, as you can probably guess, are the autumn-specific ones. I switched from tenor, for the Barley song, to the highest part for The Pear Tree, and felt pretty impressed that I could manage it! It was just about in my register. think I got away with it.
We sounded great. I think it was our best show yet!
After the gig, a few of us retired to a nearby pub garden to talk, plot and plan, and then I cycled up, up, up, and back over the Beacon to Brighton beyond. [2]
[1] My theory is the more expensive the car, the more angry the driver, and so far it’s served me well in terms of anticipating conflict, and whether to take the lane. The fact I have to do this at all is a pretty damning indictment of our collective driving culture.
[2] It’s very steep heading south. Another cyclist congratulated me for managing it with my panniers.
jamesofwalsh 