Letter 19

I was reminded by someone messaging me, of how much of life is directed by that glorious thing: Chance. I had been desperate to play the violin at school, but I was at the back of the queue and all that was left was a cello (and, I think a bassoon!). And so my whole life has hung on the fact that for once, I wasn’t a pushy, front of the queue type! Maybe I should try it more often as it certainly worked then. The way of least resistance.

And De Dannan – I’d gone to the public library to find some Indian and some Irish music to borrow, and since I didn’t really know who was who, I just went by the album covers and The Mist Covered Mountain was just gorgeous looking. I loved it so much that I couldn’t bear to take it back and finally the library VAN turned up to rescue it! Haha! I had practically played it smooth – vinyl, remember that? Then, a few weeks later, I was busking in Covent Garden and who should come up after the show, but the guys from De Dannan. Funny old world, as Captain Sparrow would say. Now, there would be a lovely serendipity!

I’ve lately swapped my car for a little camper van and FFRREEDOM! I’ve been sleeping on remote Welsh beaches in the depths of February and loving it. Along with the greyhounds of course. In a way, it’s more beautiful now than in its full summer glory as you have the place to yourself. The other day, the freshwater that was running onto the beach had frozen in huge sheets across the sand at low tide, while the massive orange sun rose behind my head and lit the dogs so they glowed. My two oldies ran more than I’ve seen them do for a long time and it was lovely – we were all, canine and human, engaged in a huge laugh of joy to be alive.

– Caroline Lavelle

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