Three trees ...
Of course, for those of a literary bent, I'm thinking of T.S.Eliot,* but it's a couple of weeks early for the magi to arrive and the sky wasn't so much "low" as foggy and high, and I'm posting this during the foggy afternoon in an effort to be sensible when I get back from Midnight Mass in the small hours when in past years I've insisted on blipping before I went to bed.
The fog has hung over Dunoon all day, and is now wetter and more penetratingly cold than ever. However, at midday, sensing a lightening of the sky, we headed out for a carefree hour in our favourite gardens. This was taken at the top of the hill in Benmore, where the path comes out of the wood and along above Glen Massan. The sun was a pale disc in the dissipating fog, and the sky above us was blue. The air was warmer (or at least less cold) than down below, and certainly dryer. The grass and bushes were white with frost and frozen droplets, whereas at sea level they were glistening with moisture. A robin sat on a branch like an extra from Narnia, but said nothing, and in the forest below a lone red squirrel scampered over the grass.
Tonight I shall be back in our candle-lit church, back singing different carols. And then it will be Christmas. The waiting time is almost over.
* Journey of the Magi by T.S.Eliot