Three Empty Crosses

Walked through the birdsong-filled dark with a load of young people to a local farm, where joined by about 200 folk from all different churches to trudge up a hill between fields of fluorescent rape - to a hill with three crosses, where we sang and celebrated communion. Unlike last year, it was grey and saw no sunrise; like last year, I was too cold.

But very moving.

Then about 20 back to ours for bacon butties, before the Easter service at church - where our minister cooked and ate three brussel sprouts (!) and the tumbling lilies before the cross certainly made a better quality photo than these crosses in the gloom - but chose these as more reminiscent of what the original probably felt like.

And now Lent is over, I can turn the comments back on, and look at your journals whenever I want to - hurray! Though going away tomorrow to the wilds of Gloucestershire, where no internet - so might have to wait still a while...