Here in the Northern Hemisphere we are approaching the first harvest. The festival of Lughnasadh, or Lammas is raising its head and peering over the horizon. It's a bitter-sweet time for me on my yearly journey through the seasons. I've watched as the grey has turned to
I stood in circle on the flat hill just below the Long Man of Wilmington yesterday with about 60 other people to celebrate the first harvest of Lughnasadh. The Weald stretched out below and the land was a tapestry of green and gold, whilst a combine harvester
The Old Bearded Man stands crooked in the fields. Born at the time of the Winter Solstice he has felt love, and has been loved. Now his beloved stands before him, the razor-edge of her sickle catching the light of the Summer Sun. They stand like this
Writing and recording an album is quite some undertaking. Each of my albums have taken on their own personality as each note has been played and recorded. During Herne's Apprentice I was excited and nervous to see how my music would be received by people. Hills they
