Doubt…

I stood before this edifice of faith

And it was magnificent –

The curve of the certain arch

The immovable pillars

The knowing eye in all this carving

The soaring ceiling shaped by countless songs of praise

~

But there was this penetrating drip of doubt

I could ignore it for a little while

Until the swelling laths shed horse hair plaster

And the stalactites point down from on high

The end of everything

~

Like any fool under falling stone all I could do was move

Out into the sunlight and the gentle rain

Looking backwards to see what might still be standing

Whether it might be anything more than just a

Magnificent ruin

~

But a ruin holds age with pride

Through the open vault light falls dappled into shadow

And the song of birds blows in on the wind

Dismantling the installations in Pucks Glen…

Today we spent an hour or so emptying the glen of poetry, prayer flags, multi coloured ribbons and water wheels. I like this way of doing church!

A few bits and pieces had been taken by the wind- so if you are up there and see the odd plastic packing box or garden cane with poetry attached, I am afraid we lost one of each.

The water wheel was torn loose at some point over the last couple of days, but managed to twirl away through the worst storms in memory – not bad for something made of scraps and bits of skateboard.

We placed a letter box at the end of the walk for prayers/comments, and it was full of lovely things- people who were clearly moved by the experience – some who had lost loved ones recently, others who were just here on holiday and stumbled across it whilst out for a walk.

People had obviously used the different interactive bits, despite the extreme weather- the leaves to write on and throw in the stream, the prayer flags, the weaving.

May you all carry some blessings into this coming year.

The last few photos-

 

 

Plastic Jesus…

Another nativity scene

Kids in tea towels and cardboard donkey ears

A tinselled angel picking her nose

And a manger knocked together by Joseph’s dad

From bits of broken shed

 

Jesus may be plastic

But Mary holds him tight

 

Cameras flash back from stars

Wrapped in baking foil

And I smile

Another proud father

 

It is all so ordinary-

The small school chairs

The smell of stale milk and disinfectant

The creak and rattle of the old piano

As the children sing again

To welcome the Christ child

And the end of term

After the wind, snow…

The weather is playing with us.

This morning heavy snow flurries cancelled my trip to Bute.

But by this afternoon, everywhere was calm and still.

I took this from our bedroom window earlier-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Despite the poor light I was too lazy to set up a tripod. Here is another one, taken from William’s bedroom…

Sheltering from the storm…

The power is back on!

I remember as a child in the 1970’s we had a series of power cuts during times of industrial action. Those hours spent by candlelight, eating sausages and beans cooked on a camping stove are lovely memories- and I still remember the disappointment I felt when the lights came back on. The time of dancing shadows was over, and the florescent uniformity was back again.

I felt a little flicker of this disappointment today. But these days, the lack of power is no benign thing- particularly in Argyll.

The storms today cut off Cowal entirely- the Rest and Be Thankful pass was blocked, and the ferries all stopped running. Trees are down everywhere and caravans and high sided vehicles tipped over.

In fact, I called in to the Police Station earlier and was told that an articulated lorry had been blown on its side, only later to be blown back onto it’s wheels! I confess to feeling skeptical, but the story was told to me in all seriousness.

More seriously there have been a spate of accidents- a policeman is said to be amongst those injured.

And when the power is out, the frailer members of our society are very vulnerable.

We have not escaped damage to property either- William’s shed took a battering, a fence is wobbling and water is coming in to our house through the skylight.

But for a while, we sat in the lounge before a raging fire and played games by the light of candles. Everyone was happy, somehow buoyed by the drama and comraderie of it all.

And then the lights came on again.

And we went our separate ways- to our individual screens and electronic cocoons.

A small band of survivors no longer.

Another storm…

Storming

 

Ripping and rending

Bending then breaking

Scuttling and guttering

Litterbugs whirling

Hold fast to the railing-

Here comes the storm

 

Slates start their scissoring

Lifting and sliding

Chimney pots clinging

Open mouth howling

Insurance claims pending-

Here comes the storm

 

Foaming and crashing

Spray plume tongue lashing

White horses raging

Anchors are scraping

The shore all white teething-

Here comes the storm

 

Sirens nee-nawing

Some cars aquaplaning

Power lines sparking

Snaking and falling

Gadgets are dying-

Here comes the storm