a man renowned in these parts – asks me to play any song I know. Before I know it, each one of them – with their fiddles, squeezeboxes, bodhráns, flutes, tin whistles, mandolins and banjos – is playing along with me. I’m entirely out of my depth, but I’m not made to feel it. As each woman and man’s genius weaves itself together, I feel part of something bigger and more important than myself. Which is all I ever really want to feel.
