A few weeks ago I went to the WOMAD festival, and came home with a head full of stories. Here is one.

SHIMBO'S FIRST GIG

Shimbo the white elephant lay quietly in the shade. His mum had wanted to spray him with suncream again today, but he was fed up with feeling so sticky and melty. "It makes me feel like a peanut butter sandwich," he grumbled, "turned inside out." While she wasn't looking he sneaked away under the trees.

Behind the trees, in the big marquee, the Trunkophones were finishing their soundcheck. A dozen grey and dark-grey elephants raised and lowered, curled and uncurled their trunks, with sounds varying from trombone to saxophone, and even deep echoes of tuba. This year's experiment sounded quite successful. The gamble of mixing Asian and African elephants was resulting in harmonies that wowed every festival. Shimbo rose to his knees and lifted his trunk, copying the big elephants, but producing only thin reedy notes. He longed for the majesty of the big bass elephants. His notes sounded so squeaky and silly.

Two chimpanzees swung away through the trees, chattering. Soon they were back, with a big, excited-looking gorilla, followed closely by Shimbo's mum. Shimbo wasn't sure whether to be glad or sorry: was his mum looking mostly proud or mostly worried?

"Are you Shimbo?" asked the gorilla. "Will you play that again?" "The tune you were playing," explained the chimps. "Do it again please." Embarrassed, Shimbo wriggled his trunk nervously and managed a short warble. "Amazing!" said the gorilla. He turned to Shimbo's mum:"Has he had lessons?" he asked. "No," she replied. "He's always made noises like that." "Amazing," said the gorilla again. "Listen, we'll sort out a formal contract tomorrow, but this afternoon can he come on as a guest artist in one or two numbers, perhaps three?"

Moral: Our families take our talents for granted.