All sorts of folk

The first day of Oxford's Folk weekend, which always sees the city centre crammed with dancers, has been blessed with the brightest, shiniest weather imaginable. So I thought I'd try to photograph a morris side in the air, with shadows.

Over-ambitious. 300 photos later, the most bearded, beribboned men with flowery hats and bells on their legs I've managed to snap in the air at any one time is three (a side is usually six). I have some fun shots but in the end they were outclassed by this exuberant bunch doing a fusion of belly dance and flamenco to Africanish drums. They say it's 'American Tribal', but it looked to me like any excuse to wear fabulous skirts and have a lot of fun together.

It's heartening to see all the old morris rules being broken. Aeons ago I knew a dour morris side who refused to let women dance on the grounds that it was a fertility dance and women doing it would... I don't know - damage their masculinity? But they were short of a fiddler and I could play fiddle so after a lot of tutting and faffing they decided that, out of the kindness of their fertile masculinity, they would let me play.

No sign of any of those fusty rules today. Women and men skipping, leaping, hopping, ranting (yes, it's a dance step) in pink fluorescent wigs, purple top hats, green tights, berets sprouting red hair, ankle boots, partridge feathers, painted faces, rainbow ribbons, Lancashire clogs, horses' heads... If it wasn't here today it will be next year.