One of the highlights of the fall of 2013 (truly an epic autumn) was going to see Cantrip, a rollicking, toe-tapping Scottish trio consisting of fiddler, piper, and guitarist. When I got an email from Cantrip's guitarist (I'll admit I let out a little shriek!—a personal message! From one of my favorite bands!) thanking us for writing up such a nice review last time and personally inviting us to another house concert at the same place, I immediately marked it on the calendar and made sure we'd be able to go.

The evening of the concert began auspiciously, with a gorgeous rainbow, spotted just down the hill from us:

When I was finished ogling the rainbow alongside another woman who'd pulled over to look, Tyler and I finished driving the short way to the concert. At the home of the piper's parents, a fire crackled outside, nestled in front of a fairy tale forest. Folks gathered around the fire, and ate companionably at picnic tables.

Before helping ourselves to the massive potluck buffet, Tyler and I ran over to hug Jenna, Mark, and Patty. Then, we headed inside to stake out seats in the very front row, so close we'd be able to brush knees with the musicians. Tyler tucked our potluck contribution (a lemon icebox cake I made) into the dessert area (coffee and dessert at intermission—how cute is that?!), and we loaded our plates.

After much eating and hanging out (with the band!), the musicians headed inside, and we took our seats for an evening of pure enjoyment. With drinks in hand, good friends seated behind us, a friendly dog roaming around, kids slouched in their mamas' laps, and women knitting, life was good. Here we were, just minutes away from our place, in someone's home, on a Thursday night, about to listen to some of my favorite music played ten inches in front of my face. At last, they began.

There is nothing like being face to face with Dan playing a Scottish border pipe...

Or hearing Jon kill it on the fiddle...

Or watching Eric keeping the whole thing together on the guitar.

Cantrip's music (especially when heard so close to the musicians) was exhilarating, heart-pounding, and foot-stomping. The border pipes rang through my bones and I got chills. The fiddle tugged at my heart strings and played me like a marionette, eliciting within me the uncontrollable desire to move and clap and sing. Their music was old, rooted in the past, and yet so fresh and vibrant and new.

We all cheered when they were through, and immediately purchased their CD. We listened to it as we drove home, and we've been listening to it ever since. Tyler's and my favorite song is "Tom Tom," which we've been attempting to memorize. Thanks, guys, for a wonderful evening! Let me know when you'll be back in town!

PS: I have this dream that you'll come play in our workshop someday! How cool would it be to listen to your wild Scottish tunes in a Viking Hall?! Just sayin.'