It’s just after 9pm and lilac hues have spread across Dorset skies, shadows extending over a panorama of marquee tops. Perfect conditions for the first night of End of the Road, whose Friday headliners – Black Midi, Battles and Fleet Foxes among them – are minutes away from stepping on stage. Yet, rather than slipping through the masses to grab a good spot, I’ve been back at my tent for an hour already. Having unfolded a stool in the last of the sun, simmering lentils and a mug full of boxed cab-sav for company, my one-year-old daughter, Nancy, has finally nodded off in the tent, unaware of earlier negotiations between her parents. After an afternoon watching bands from a lower-decibel distance as a family, it’s my wife who’s out tonight, enjoying her child-free break for freedom. Although, with the Pixies – a band beloved since teen years but never seen live – top billing on Saturday night, I felt confident in my call as “White Winter Hymnal” carried on the breeze. We’re a day into our first festival as a family of three, an experience already proving quite a journey. As a sometimes music journalist, I’d covered events across Europe over the past decade, adept at negotiating stage splits, balancing reporting duties and life-affirming experiences with willing accomplices. Of these, End of the Road has remained a regular fixture, an informal end-of-summer meet-up with industry colleagues and friends – as well as my chosen stag-do destination. With a one-year-old in tow, this year would mark a stark contrast. From the freshly purchased family-sized tent – the subject of substantial research and investment, and an attempt to win over a camping-averse wife – to the travel cot, buggy, strings of fairy lighting, endless layers, toys and first-aid trappings for every eventuality, the baggage was endless. Shoulders ablaze, I’d carried it all in as my wife kept our daughter entertained. Stepping into my role as responsible dad, I’d practised the tent’s set-up at home prior to arrival and, with a tangible sense of optimism about the weekend ahead, started separating pegs from poles. Yet, with the tent almost up, something unsettled me. What was that smell? Unzipping the bedroom it hit me. My earlier garden practice run had provided the perfect sheltered toilet for a visiting fox –  evidence of which no amount of wet-wipe scrubbing could remove, resulting in a showdown with the reluctant camper and a smell that would accent a weekend in which expectations were continuously lowered. After my wife crashed back in on Friday night, earlier than anticipated and hamstrung by a fast-developing cold, we wondered if we were up to the challenge. Nancy was having a nice time, happy tracking insects in the long grass or studiously inspecting the contents of her snack bag. But could this equally have been any other field? Had we been too exhausted and distracted to embrace the experience? By contrast, our camping companions had brought their five-year-old, who enthusiastically shared stories about favourite bands and the wicker dragonfly he’d crafted, as his dad talked about the surprise sets he’d happened upon the previous night. Perhaps we’d just taken all of this on too soon. The next morning, I nudged Nancy’s buggy around the site, stopping at the kids’ area, where a neckerchiefed uke player offered up nursery rhymes with instruments for children, which were seized upon with pleasure. Various childless friends were never far away, entertaining our daughter in bursts. Later, after reuniting with my wife, a highlight was bobbing to Los Bitchos’ buoyant afternoon performance with Nancy held aloft, as was a brief glimpse of Jockstrap packing out a small stage in the woods. Yet other moments – flailing nappy changes amid aghast onlookers, straying too close to the stage with a buggy as the light faded and the crowd surged – presented a sharp learning curve. Still feeling under the weather, my wife headed back to the tent with Nancy as the Pixies arrived, Frank Black’s substantial presence now underscored by a pang of guilt. After checking in and being signed off to stay out, I’d joined an excitable crowd for an unannounced late-night set at the Tipi stage, which, after turning out to be one of the tiny handful of bands I’d already seen that day – again sounded another minor chord on my tiny violin. As the skies cleared, we’d discovered corners along the way we’d otherwise never have seen and met a similarly dazed yet determined community of parents With my wife’s health deteriorating further overnight – diminishing her perception of fox piss, at least – we made the call to leave on Sunday morning and I hauled everything back to the car. On the long drive home, and hours before Covid would be confirmed, it had to be asked: had this been fun for anyone concerned? Was this festival too aptly named for a new dad trying to reconcile past and present lives? This all happened in the summer of 2022 and, unfazed, we tried again this year – albeit at the even smaller scale and decidedly family-friendly Kite Festival in Oxfordshire. While Nancy’s advanced age presented new challenges – tentative first steps now a confident swagger – her inquisitiveness also marked her out as the perfect festival companion. Expectations now firmly in check, we let ourselves be led by circumstance and proximity, stopping for whatever drew the eye rather than dashing from act to act, allowing us to slow down and see the world through her eyes. Occasionally we tag-teamed the lineup, each picking a couple of acts to witness unhindered by short attention spans (my wife took former PM John Major’s packed-out talk in the big top, I took Suede). Under the hot sun, our meeting point at the shaded children’s area also helped keep Nancy from turning pink in the sun. Clapping furiously at the end of shadow chancellor Rachel Reeves’s morning debate, her grasp on Labour’s manifesto pledges seems better than most – although this mimicry of crowd behaviour proves an endearing feature at later events, too. An uncontrollable tantrum during Michael Gove’s appearance at a panel discussion saw us quickly extract ourselves from the tent, drawing smiles from an audience impressed by the effectiveness of her heckle. Further priceless memories included dancing together at Candi Staton’s sundown set, Nancy with a brioche in each hand – ear defenders askew – visibly finding her feet. The following day the skies suddenly broke, with an electrical storm closing all stages, sending Birkenstock-clad families sprinting for cover. The one attendee thrilled by it all was Nancy, who careered around cackling as security attempted to keep punters from the marquee’s lightning-conducting metal poles. As the skies cleared, we’d discovered corners along the way we’d otherwise never have seen and met a similarly dazed yet determined community of parents. We still hadn’t nailed the performative kids-at-festivals thing – there was no trolley adorned with decoration or whimsical outfits – but felt comfortable that we’d struck the right balance, fulfilled by a shared experience led by the spontaneity of a child’s impulses. It marked a shift from any naive attempt to carry on with our lives as normal. An alternative, of course, is to leave your family at home. A couple of weeks ago I joined 250,000 others at Glastonbury, my own spontaneity given breathing space once more. Thrilling, yes, but also a weekend that at times left me seeking my small festival companion among the other attendees. I was temporarily overcome watching a daughter on the shoulders of her father as he introduced her to a favourite band, excitedly explaining each musician’s role. “How old? I’ve got one a similar age,” was shared with various others. Yet it was also at Glastonbury, as the temperature nudged into the thirties, that I spotted another dad – fixed grin but dead behind the eyes – pushing three irritable kids in a trolley up a shadeless slope. I nod my solidarity, before skipping off to the bar – relieved, this time, that’s not me. Bumping into Joe Goddard from Hot Chip, whose bandmates collectively call their kids the Micro Chips, he says that of all the children he knows, it’s those who have always been dragged to festivals who have proved the most rounded. Something that resonates with me as the Glastonbury hangover subsides and – reunited with my family – I start looking forward to carving out new shared experiences in crowded fields once more. Read More The earthy magic and lawless energy of being a child at Glastonbury festival Too cool to love these acts 10 years ago? This year’s Glastonbury is for you Music festivals have saved me so many times Demi Lovato says she still struggles with vision, hearing impairment after overdose Marina Diamandis says she has been diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome Should I keep my windows closed or open during a heatwave?

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Police searching for a lioness in a Berlin suburb have determined there is “no acute danger” to people in the area, as experts conclude it may have been a wild boar. Authorities launched a major search operation after receiving reports during the early hours of Thursday that a wild cat was prowling around the wooded areas of the Kleinmachnow area. A widely-circulated video appeared to show a lioness in the nearby undergrowth, with police telling BBC that they believe the footage to be authentic and identified it as a “big cat”. However, experts who have analysed the video have concluded that the animal was likely to have been a wild boar, which are common in the region. Independently of one another, the experts concluded that “this isn’t a lioness or a wild animal” and that the creature “tends toward a wild boar”. A wide-ranging two-day search failed to turn up signs of the predator, with police only discovering a family of wild boars. Meanwhile, local residents were told to stay indoors and to avoid allowing their pets and children outside. Kleinmachnow Mayor Michael Grubert told reporters that police thoroughly combed woodland on both sides of the state boundary and found no indication at all of a lioness or any wild animal other than wild boars. “We will return to the usual vigilant programme and we think there is no acute danger for Kleinmachnow or for the south of Berlin,” the mayor said, adding that police would be able to step back up straight away if the situation changes. Grubert defended the large, 36-hour deployment, in which helicopters, drones and infrared cameras were used and vets and hunters participated, as “appropriate”. “The danger of a wild animal in Kleinmachnow justifies the deployment,” he said, adding that he would act the same way “if I were in the situation today.” Around 120 police officers and wildlife experts have been scouring the local wooded areas, with counter-terrorism vehicles, drones and helicopters involved in the search. The news comes after a member of a notorious German crime family offered his help in capturing the suspected lioness, by saying he could “lead the lioness back to her enclosure”. Firas Remmo, the son of the head of the Remmo family, urged authorities not to shoot the creature. In a post on social media, he asked for anyone with information to “let him know first” so he can step in “before some idiot shoots her”. Read More 'Lioness' on the loose? More experts join police in second-day search for elusive animal See how an Alaska paddleboarder escaped a close encounter with a humpback whale Police discover burglary ‘suspect’ is baby deer hiding in basement Mystery as three ‘mummified’ bodies found at remote Rocky Mountain camp Russia-Ukraine: Putin gives chilling warning to Poland US confirms Ukraine is already using its cluster bombs against Russian targets

Dramatic explosions on the surface of one of Saturn's moons have been observed, and it could change the way scientists approach the search for life in the universe. Saturn's ice-covered moon Enceladus has been the subject of attention from astronomers for decades after plumes of water vapor were observed erupting from its surface 20 years ago by the Cassini spacecraft. Now, the biggest plume yet has been spotted by the James Webb Space Telescope and it measures a massive 10,000 kilometers in length. Incredibly, the plume emitting from the geyser on the surface measures 20 times the size of the moon itself, and it indicates that there’s more to Enceladus than previously thought. Sign up to our free Indy100 weekly newsletter Planetary scientist Geronimo Villanueva of NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center said: "When I was looking at the data, at first, I was thinking I had to be wrong, it was just so shocking to map a plume more than 20 times the diameter of the moon. "The plume extends far beyond what we could have imagined." Instead of solid ice, the size of the plume shows us that there’s a liquid ocean under the surface. It’s kept warm enough to avoid freezing due to the movement that results from the gravitational pull of Saturn. As ever, the existence of liquid water suggests that there’s the possibility of life existing there, and it's encouraging news for authors of the study accepted in Nature Astronomy. "The orbit of Enceladus around Saturn is relatively quick, just 33 hours. As it whips around Saturn, the moon and its jets are basically spitting off water, leaving a halo, almost like a donut, in its wake," Villanueva said. "In the Webb observations, not only was the plume huge, but there was just water absolutely everywhere." It remains one of the most interesting bodies being studied in the solar system, as geochemist Christopher Glein of the Southwest Research Institute. “Enceladus is one of the most dynamic objects in the Solar System and is a prime target in humanity's search for life beyond Earth," geochemist Christopher Glein of the Southwest Research Institute said. "In the years since NASA's Cassini spacecraft first looked at Enceladus, we never cease to be amazed by what we find is happening on this extraordinary moon." Have your say in our news democracy. Click the upvote icon at the top of the page to help raise this article through the indy100 rankings.

Ron DeSantis officially launched his long-awaited 2024 presidential campaign Wednesday, signaling he will lean into culture war issues

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(Reuters) -Johnson & Johnson said on Thursday the U.S. Food and Drug Administration had approved its antibody-based therapy for patients

It’s possible to sing the chorus to Hanson’s 1997 smash “MMMBop” over the chords to Taylor Swift’s 2012 hit “22.”