Certifiable

Even after almost 20 years of retirement I feel that Saturdays ought to be somehow special, marked out as different from the working week by something pleasant or memorable - but not today. The morning slid past like frogspawn (you can see where this is going ...); an originally interesting conversation about psalms set for tomorrow/the desirability or not of singing plainchant during communion/coming up with some new Taizé style music that was as good as the ones we already use - that conversation just went on too long and frustrated any thoughts of going out while it was still dry. 

But I did get out, later, and I got comprehensively soaked. The rain started while I was getting lunch. I'd already arranged to meet Di for a walk, so trusting to the old adage that there's never bad weather, just the wrong clothes, I put on my Paramo jacket and my waterproof overtrousers and heavy-duty goretex-lined trainers and set off the short drive to Ardnadam, where there is a neolithic village site that I've posted here before.

However, we didn't take the path to the settlement; we headed off up the hill into the mist. We climbed up and up till the trees around us were shrouded in grey and we couldn't see where the road turned until we were almost on it. Mindful of the fact that this was the self-same track I ploughed up with my nose in much the same circumstances - was it three years ago? - I tried to keep watch for loose stones and managed to have no mishaps. As we traversed the highest point of the track, we heard an unmistakable sound a bit like a belch - and while we pondered and tried to shut up the excitable small spaniel we suddenly came across the amazing ?frog? ?toad? sitting square in the middle of the track, trying to look invisible while retaining this amazingly vibrant brown colouring. A moment later we saw a huge dollop of spawn (bottom right) in the ditch nearby, and felt triumphant. 

As we headed back down through the woods where last years russet leaves still cling to the branches, I couldn't help remembering the same journey done with blood and rain dripping down my face and over the self-same jacket, and reflecting on how, perhaps, we were in fact certifiable ...

I was so wet and rather chilly when I got home, but I wasn't done: an hour later we were both off up to the freezing, damp church - colder inside than out tonight - to run through a new piece for tomorrow. 

See the things we do for fun?