JENNY and I made our way over to Marsden on Saturday evening for Imbolc.

For those of you who’ve never been, it’s a traditional Celtic festival which marks the beginning of spring.

Masked torch-carriers and marching bands lead a procession from the village train station to Tunnel End.

A couple of thousand people gather there each year to watch dozens of fire-jugglers do their thing before the Green Man of spring comes out to do battle with Jack Frost.

I had a tenner on Frosty this year but he lost yet again (I’m starting to think it’s rigged).

In any case, congratulations to the organisers whose months of hard work made our few hours of enjoyment possible.

I’m a big fan of Imbolc, as it builds a sense of community togetherness and adds to the Colne Valley’s well-earned reputation for the unorthodox.

But there was one thing that really annoyed me about this year’s festival – the umbrellas.

As you may remember, it was a tiny bit wet on Saturday. Most of us who braved the rain to go to Imbolc did so with nothing but our coats to protect us from the downpour.

But a small proportion – I would say around 10% – decided to bring their brollies to the fire display.

There were around 2,000 people crammed on to the grass at Tunnel End, and all of us had our views obscured by the minority of umbrella carriers who couldn’t bear the torment of raindrops on their anoraks.

Thanks for marring an otherwise excellent event, guys.

If you didn’t want to get wet, you shouldn’t have come out in the first place.