All is still, and quiet as the early winter sun appears over the rooftops. The freshness of a new day is so welcome when the sun’s warmth is rising. Even in the cold a sunny day makes so much difference. A new day comes pristine, hopeful and full of possibilities. This is ‘day’s most sacred hour‘ – a daily gift of grace, Continue reading “A Winter Dawn”
The death of his mother when he was only 9 devastated his happy childhood. In his own words, it seemed that “the great continent had sunk like Atlantis beneath the sea.” He was left with a life of meaninglessness and despair.
Continue reading “December Turned to May”
One of the glories of England’s quiet shires is the patchwork of little country parishes each with its own church and churchyard, many of them national treasures. Come and see ours and find out how mistaken Philip Larkin was!
Keats’ ‘gathering swallows twittering in the skies‘ have gone and last week I heard the plaintive call of a chiff chaff, a sign that other migrants are on their way back south, to warmer climes. We’re left alone to contemplate with the sad autumnal song of ‘the redbreast whistling from a garden croft’. We feel we’ve been watching summer’s ‘soft dying day‘. Continue reading “Michaelmas – angels unawares”
A Listening Heart 