Christmas Eve

It's not often we get a day like this for Christmas Eve, here in Argyll - this wonderfully appropriate weather of blue sky, frost and the thermometer never rising higher than 2ºC - because as often as not it's mild and wet and not at all Christmas-card-worthy. But today was glorious. So after a few necessary things - like more bread flour being collected, like the towels being not only washed but hung out - we had a quick coffee and headed back to Benmore Gardens because they're even more special in the morning light. There was no-one there until we were leaving; the only sign of life came when two red squirrels suddenly scampered across the grass and chased each other up a giant redwood, their claws clearly audible in the quiet. So my main photo comes from this morning - the frozen pond reflecting the sky. 

In the afternoon I made brandy butter, wrapped a few last presents, and listened to King's College singing so wonderfully in the even better than usual acoustic of the empty chapel because there was no congregation. But the customary tension of Christmas Eve began to seep in - because we've been involved in the music for midnight services for so long, it's as if tension is a necessary adjunct, showing itself in my case by my inability to settle to watch anything much on TV, which would normally be a good soporific.

But this dissipated when we got up the hill to church just after 11pm. My extra photo is of the cheering sight that greeted us - the porch lit and decorated with candles and greenery, the little trees outside sparkling with lights, the church warden (now the attendance monitor!) waiting in the zero temperatures with her clipboard. Three of us sang Hodie Christus Natus Est from the altar as the priest followed the cross up the aisle, and two of us an accompanied carol during communion. The church looked wonderful, the efforts of only a few people a shining example of what can be done when people really care. 

I'm missing my family, I'm going to miss their cooking, it's going to be strange tomorrow. But tonight everything came together, and it's good to be here.