Even in the gloom...

Gloom was the word today as far as weather was concerned. I was aware as I looked out how hard it was to tell whether or not it was raining, and how little I cared because of the unmitigated grey of the sky. I was actually very much indoors all morning on a diocesan zoom meeting following on from last Saturday's; we discussed spiritual practice in the lockdown period and the effects of the pandemic on the life of faith and of a church. Hat-tip to the organisers: it's quite a thing to work with a group like that!

However, sitting at the desk all morning is something I find hard. It's how you know why your bestie is your pal, when she readily agrees to a walk in the gloom to discuss and to get the circulation going. And so it was that we were high above Dunoon as dusk began to thicken and the rain came on and we turned back to see the wonderful contrast that we'd not been aware of on the outward trek. These little deciduous larch trees, scattered through the forestry plantation, were positively glowing in the gloom, and it didn't matter that we were getting wetter by the minute or that many dogs were come about us (running away from their owners, perhaps because a deer had strayed into the area and enticed them away). 

I finished off the afternoon in the church, as we'd left our cars there when we met. There I found Mr PB practising in the chill, and we were able to have a sing-through of tomorrow's communion piece before heading for home, and lights, and fires ...

And dinner. I'm starving.