I've blipped this little space in our church before, I think, but it was looking particularly welcoming on this wild, wet afternoon as we left the church after a lunchtime rehearsal for a seasonal Choral Evensong this Sunday. Outside, curtains of rain swept the car park, the huge tree was groaning in the wind, and every now and again an ominous rattle from above suggested a slate in trouble, but as I put the main lights out and the interior was once more plunged into gloom the prayer corner lights came into their own.
The Visitors' Book shows how the constant presence of the open church at the foot of the glen surprises and delights those who find their way inside. Even people who have lived here for many years feel they've made a discovery, and it's gratifying.
A day of busyness, but lightened by the knowledge that yesterday produced the writing I was feeling pushing at my brain; the poem I wrote survived the night and actually pleased me in the morning. It's a good feeling.