Smoke and light

At the end of the carol service I was singing in this afternoon, in my own church of Holy Trinity, Dunoon, the altar and windows were filled with white smoke - not incense, not on this occasion, but dry ice. The church was already full of bubbles - see my extra photo - but the smoke was a new surprise as the organist (Mr PB himself) played improvisations on a wonderful Palestinian Christian chant and the large congregation tried to cram itself into the narthex for mulled wine and other calorific offerings.

I love this time of year, with all its stresses dispersed for an afternoon of glory; I love our crazy church; I love our music and the standards to which we aspire; I love the fact that our Rectory team seem daunted by nothing when it comes to putting on a show. And I love the effect of this mad, unecclesiastical smoke in the sanctuary ...