In the crowded hullabaloo of last weekend's epic apocal'eclipse, it was not easy to discern what was torrenting through our worlds. Many streams of influence converged to drag us all across the threshold of before and after. This period of time will be the passage generations to come will look back on to see the split, the place where history cleaved and the past's grip loosened its hold on the future.

Even after such a long dark middle ages she resisted the cocoon until finally the gossamer weave was placed gently over her sagging shoulders. She folded herself into it gratefully and balled up to swim her way through the transition.

This week's square dancing has certainly kept us on our toes. With every change in the music we have had to pivot or scramble by degrees, pushed towards the constraints. The tune momentarily discordant, the steps unfamiliar.