My tone is changing and it’s strange to sense it happening… just now the two journalists called to chat about “where we’re at here in Lancashire, how the community is coping, how do people feel and how about the court case etc.” My answers came from a different place than before the government decision to drill the democracy right out of Lancashire; to do anything they see fit because they can tear up our planning refusals, dismiss those pesky local concerns and ignore completely the call for a Frack Free Lancashire… there’s a roar building now and it’s ominous. You could hear its early rumble on Saturday at the gathering to acknowledge our determination to not be deterred by this government decision. The community I was amongst on Saturday was as always, comprised of some of the most glorious people you could hope to meet and are honoured (thanks to fracking?!) to call friend… smiles, good humour, tea, cake, merchandise, hi-viz organisational types, cheery chaos amidst attempts to heroically find order (cat herding skills in poor supply in Lancashire lol) and warm concern on every smiling but tired face. We are weary and somehow, in that weariness, is a power source that is fuelling this community and it’s superbly contagious. One hour in the company of activists is like a shot of rocket fuel that powers for many times more than the charge. There were moments yes where the true shape of the growing roar could be glimpsed; at the gate of the landowner’s house where we pushed unexpectedly, unplanned and yet entirely natural to that moment and that mood. The gate was the steam valve and proved, for some of us, essential. I was at the front and although order, peace, calm determination are my heartfelt way – I was raging and ‘There are many many more of us than you” was a chant that roared easily from my lips and in that moment, meant its threatening tone. We sang at Big Dan’s calling of the lines to “ People got the Power” – and we meant that too because we could feel the power of our anger and its promise of more. My sincerest hope at this time is that Cuadrilla start picturing that which is inside of us, the bit that stands on the path in front of the children and says “You will not pass” and you KNOW we mean this. Back off Cuadrilla… you won’t like us when we’re angry. Your move.