"It was in Summer 2009. The Band squeezed into a van and made its way driving from Berlin to Sweden. A friend who just bought a farm in the forest in south Sweden insisted that we will come and play at the inauguration party, so we did. My wife back then came along too, heavily pregnant with our eldest daughter, Novi.

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The drive took us two days. We slept one night in Copenhagen, and the next day we busked to cover lunch - a few songs on the street, coins in the case, and that familiar mix of freedom and exhaustion.

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At the farm we enjoyed the first nice day chilling, strolling in the forest, picking berries and swimming in the lake. By evening we set up to play in the old barn. One whole wall of it was open, creating like a stage frame - us inside, the audience outside on the grass. We played few songs. The sky were bright, typical for late summer night up north.

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Then we started to play  'Dark And Stormy Weather'.

 

There was electricity in the air - the kind you feel on your skin. Wind blew. The tension was tangible. First and second verses: heavy clouds gathering, stacking up. By the chorus the light began to dim. I looked at Ruth and Hanna while playing, and we all felt it: something was happening around us, bigger than the song.

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Karin stood at the front of the stage at the microphone. Between lines she turned back quickly, eyes lit. She - like us - is seeing what was coming. A few more seconds passed - and then it hit. Heavy rain, sudden and loud, dropping straight on the barn's roof and on the audience.

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And still, the band went on.

“Dark and Stormy Weather…” The audience, like us, was frozen in awe. Some people in the audience tried to cover themselves with whatever they had, some didnt even bother, but nobody want to leave. We just kept playing inside that barn in the rain. The song had called it in.

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It was all magic."