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Writer's pictureBield at Blackruthven

Meandering thoughts of an afternoon


I’m writing this sitting in a hammock, Yes, I know: life can be challenging here at The Bield, and a blackbird is singing in a tree nearby. The sky is leaden to the north and gradually it’s drifting towards me. I hope to remain dry till this is done.


Last week we re-opened and had a selection of delightful folk staying, making all the COVID fuss in preparation for their coming seem insignificant. The joy of interaction, time in the chapel, chats over coffee, and walks along the curling pond soon made up for it, and the week culminated for us in our open garden day on Saturday. Myriads of children and their parents attended. The weather was clement, the sun kissed our guests as they lounged over coffee, tea and scones.


Over the years we’ve have enjoyed guests both human and animal, and today as a wee mouse dashed out from the hedge to collect seeds dropped from the bird feeder, it brought to mind the day we sat in chapel and had a visitation:


It was Easter time and the centre of the chapel had been arranged with stones flowers, and a water feature. It brought to mind the garden tomb empty, and surrounded by life and the colour of bouquets. We were sitting in silent contemplation when I heard a rustling.


I cracked open one eye to see what caused it: There, oblivious to our presence was a mouse taking her breakfast from the gathered greenery and flowers, nibbling a little here, and a little there. All the while it was slipping in and out between the leaves and the stones.


Ever so quietly I brought out my phone and recorded the innocent partaking of our colourful feast.


Somehow this repast called to mind God’s loving participation in our worship and made me realise how blessed we are when we are in the company of his creation.


May you also find time to be with the creatures of our loving God this Spring.


Psalm 84: 3-4

Birds find nooks and crannies in your house,

sparrows and swallows make nests there.

They lay their eggs and raise their young,

singing their songs in the place where we worship.

God-of-the-Angel-Armies! King! God!

How blessed they are to live and sing there

Robin

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