Waiting for the Miracle

Sundays. They are always good days. Reliving the memories from the Saturday night that has just gone, trying to piece together the conversations and the journeys, the interactions and the scandal, the heartbreak and the elation that are all slightly smudged in your mind. I spent my Sunday afternoon with R and D in the valley of Dean. Unfortunately the grey clouds and low light did not make for very good photos, but we had fun nontheless.

I thought that this sign, constructed by Nathan Coley in the grounds of the Dean Gallery, was darkly intriguing. For those that can't read backwards, it spells: "There Will Be No Miracles Here". Quite disturbing, and ever so dark. I thought it odd that it was placed in amongst the gardens, which are about to see one of the best miracles of all: spring. The flowering of the crocuses, the budding of the trees, the growing brightness of the grass, all helped along by the as of yet absent sun.

So I hope that the sign is wrong, and that we are all about to see the miracle. I just can't wait for it to start.