Beginning to see the light ...

That title makes it sound as if I'm photographing the dawn, and to be honest the dawn (a) is only a few hours away and (b) will begin to show just round to the right of this view from my front door. It was almost 11pm, and I was struck by how light the western sky still was, even though we can't see right down to sea level for maximum effect. But some things felt slightly better today...

The first good thing was church. Trinity Sunday is as near as our church gets to a patronal festival, though it's been a while since we did any special celebrating. Because I've been aware of not being able to sing properly for over a week now, I was nervous about it happening again, but I realised my upper range was beginning to reappear in the first hymn, and I was able to sing a wee solo at communion, so that was a relief - first good thing. Next was that the sermon was terrific - not a trad Trinitarian sermon as such, but one bringing in the ideas of R.S.Thomas about his experience of looking for God and where God was to be found. A real thought-provoking and thoughtful talk, in fact. And then we sang a hymn whose words I wrote many years now, originally thinking of the Feast of the Transfiguration but which works well for any church congregation who worship on a hill, as we do. I set it to a lovely tune, Selma, and it always gives me a thrill to hear a congregation sing it. And after the service, we stood in the hot sunshine outside the church for ages, sharing jokes and sympathy with friends, and that was good too (except that I think I've burned a wee circle on the crown of my head as my hair's so short!)

The rest of the day was mainly notable for the fat, single cumulus cloud that came to a halt over our garden for several hours, landing us in shade, before melting away just in time for a wee G&T outside before dinner. But in the shady interim, I booked a compensatory 4 nights in a hotel we know well in my favourite place on Arran, just at the time when our aborted holiday would have been ending. It may rain every day by then, but ... Very cheering. 

And can I also say that the perceptive and sympathetic comments of my fellow-blippers over the last few days have also been one of the best things at making me feel better? What a lovely lot you are! Thank you!

...and goodnight!