The severe weather warnings given for this area for late afternoon and night were dead right! As we sat eating our evening meal, discussing whether it was a gale or a storm force developing outside, the growling of the wind became steadily louder, it was a very threatening sound. The roof creaked as it lifted.

Driving the twenty or so miles to our venue was dicey as there were raging storm gusts punching their way across the exposed countryside. The car wobbled a few times, the rear of it wavered in all directions; careful constant steering was the order of the night.

The evening gathering we were at was affected with power cuts. Curiously, the fridge lights worked. An enquiry elicited that the function room was connected to a generator, though, not so you would have noticed in any other respect. The management placed lit candles on the tables. The decibels of the band were quieted and we could talk without straining or trying to find a quiet spot elsewhere.

Blast! The sound system got linked up to some power and other than prancing around the dance floor - if the pace of the sound was suitable - any other interactive sociability died. The sound levels were unnecessary on many fronts, in particular with this band, because they were good. They did not have to hide any weaknesses behind distortion of sound, they could play their instruments well and the singers had lovely voices. In another enforced quiet moment, I mentioned my thoughts to a player. He reckoned the decibels could not be reduced, the equipment was set for a larger hall. Believe that if you will.

The high noise levels of the band certainly competed with the sounds of the storm, they drowned it out. But for the power cuts and candles, you would not have known there was a storm raging over our heads.

Driving home, my turn this time, the stormy gusts were less frequent. Nevertheless, you felt them when they came.