I'm with you there, DtG... long distant memories of singing whilst processing round the church and circuiting the field next the church in our white dresses, veils and sandals:

Bring flowers of the fairest
Bring blossoms the rarest
From garden and woodland and hillside and dale
Our full hearts aur swelling
Our glad voices telling
The praise of the loveliest flower of the vale...

Goodness, it's amazing what still lurks in the memory banks from 30-odd years ago.

I couldn't sleep either, and as the dawn was so perfect I got togged up and walked out across the fields, hearing the skylarks singing and watching the mist evaporating from the valleys in the surprisingly warm sun. I, too, washed my face in the May morning dew though I'm not sure exactly why... and sang all the May songs I could remember. I love living up here.