Lights in the gloom

There's a book by an author I enjoy, Kate Atkinson, called "When will there be Good News?" It's a refrain to many of my thoughts these days, as I listen to the news: news about the pandemic, with the R number in not only the putative UK but also in Scotland sliding up past 1, with yet another heavily populated Central Belt region being placed under visiting restrictions, with warnings that it's going to get worse as winter descends. And then the news about the effects of Brexit, as the absurd Westminster government barges on to its unspeakable goal and people on my Twitter feed start listing the items they're stockpiling ... why am I living in a disaster movie?

It's getting harder to block out the disaster background music, I find, though I managed it for an hour this morning recording hymns for broadcasting. As always, we did this in the church, where the beauty of the midday light coming through the Samaritan woman window helped in its subliminal suggestion that all may yet be well ... At least I sang well: I've just listened to the playback. It's been very good for my voice, all this solo work - I think if I found I'd lost it during this choirless period that would've been the last straw. Or one of the last straws.

Other than that we had a mail about the Covid arrangements in the hotel we're hoping to stay in next week; we noted the instruction to cancel any reservations if we find we're living in a restricted area, which is reassuring. So far so good. And far too late in the day we went for a vigorous walk at the south of the peninsula, through the farmland where the beasts were bellowing. A shower battered down and soaked us, but by the time we decided it was time to turn and come home for dinner the sun was trying to emerge and it seemed quite pleasant.

And now it's past midnight, as I fell asleep in front of a very unpleasant, very American movie of 1960s vintage that came on after the news. Now wide awake and irritable - which doesn't bode well for a peaceful night.

Perception factoid from today: brown cows look red when arranged on a vibrantly green field.