Restless natives

On this oddly grey day - there was some hot sunshine, but it tucked itself away again after a short while - there was plenty  of incentive to take it easy. Not that we're ever in a position to be relaxed on a Sunday morning, not unless we're away from home and not thinking of seeking out a church, but as far as I'm concerned all I had to do today was turn up and sing a bit. Actually, I have a confession to make: because for over a year now I've been the cantor in church, singing something suitable as the communion is administered, I've realised that it's perfectly possible to enjoy performing as a solo singer. This isn't something that is a given for choir singers - the odd solo is often a gut-clenching experience to be anticipated for many bars before the entry - but I find I look forward to it. Today, Himself and I sang a duet (which Himself also accompanies on the organ) and I realise how intuitive it has become to blend and match tone and tempo ... just shows what singing together for 55 years can do!

We chatted outside in various small groups for well over an hour - interesting and often hilarious conversations on an amazing range of topics: our church has become a very different group of people over the years we've been coming. It's good. Good, even though we found ourselves drinking our morning coffee at lunchtime ...

I don't know what happened to the afternoon. I did some Italian; I did some organising for going off tomorrow. But did we give up on a walk, because we had stuff to do and Himself is beset by a muscle strain in his back? Silly question. We chased some bright sky southwards and walked out the Ardyne, realising that the brightness didn't extend to the bit of sky where the sun was. It did, however, give me this photo of a yacht sailing past Rothesay Bay with the blue Arran hills looming in the background. 

And now I shall make some attempt to get to bed before midnight...