The kids of Eden have wellies and they’re not afraid to use them - Susan Morrison

Susan Morrison suspects children really do think that Wellington boots are magical

This year, Scotland’s weather went full on Armageddon and hurled rain down for days. By the time I arrived on Sunday afternoon, the festival site resembled some sort of First World War Western Front reenactment, only with reggae in the background.

My heart broke for the organisers. They put their hearts and souls into creating these events, only to see Mother Nature behave like a stroppy teen throwing a tantrum.

Visitors too plan for months to go to these festivals. But by gum, they weren’t going to let a little thing like a total drenching get them down. These party animals were battle hardened. They’d come prepared.

Cagoules, rain hats and sturdy ponchos were the coolest fashion looks around. Wellies had been packed. Not by me, obviously, because I am an idiot. I was wearing a little pair of trainers that are now sitting mud-caked and ruined by the front door awaiting their rendezvous with the bin. Never liked them anyway.

The adults were enjoying themselves with a determinedly manic manner, drinking their booze out of cups with covers on, because otherwise the chardonnay would have been nine parts rainwater in about five minutes.

They were dancing in the mud, rebelliously sticking it to the weather gods and having a good time.

Eden is a very family friendly event, and so there were squads of tiny kids running around. Well, when I say running, more like skidding, sliding and skooshing through puddles big enough to run a ferry service across.

The kids were having a ball. One little lady stomped up to me and announced “My wellies are magical”. I could only agree. Well, they were glittery. Her sister was sporting a kaleidoscope coloured pair, and the wee boy dashing past had unicorns on his.

Kids wellies have come a long way since I was their age. Back then you could get any colour you wanted as long as it was black. Comfort was not part of their appeal.

There was a sort of razor sharp edging around the top, guaranteed to leave that distinctive ring around the legs of any child foolish enough to don wellies sans socks.

Now they shimmer, glow and shine. One pair genuinely did light up. Handy on a small child in a big crowd, as her mum pointed out to me.

I suspect children really do think that Wellington boots are magical. After all, the wellies live in the dark most of the time, at the back of the cupboard, like Narnia. And when they come out, they can do a magical thing.

You can run through puddles and torrential rain and your tootsies stay dry. You can leap into tiny streams and splash mud all over them and everyone laughs and claps. Try that with the fancy shoes your mum got you for her pal’s wedding and you bet she won’t be pleased.

The weather may have thrown a hissy fit, but the kids of Eden didn’t care. They had their wellies and they weren’t afraid to use them.