Month: July 2019

There are many kinds of rain. There is drizzle. The is thick small rain, which makes the Loch merge into grey and hides the other side. There are the large drops which sometimes come thickly, in ‘stair rods’. There is rain that falls from clouds. There is rain that brings the clouds with it, and hides the trees. There is rain that falls through the sunshine. All these kinds and more were in evidence on today’s extremely showery day. Janet walked strongly through it all. Today was planned to be the longest day, but she did a bit extra yesterday to make today shorter. It was nevertheless long, and difficult because of the rain.

Tomorrow is much shorter, and Saturday is a well-earned rest day. There are many kinds of rain, many kinds of walking, and (non sequitur though it is) many kinds of praying. I urge you to try as many kinds of all three as you can!

Well, there is, isn’t there? It adds a mysterious element to the greatness of the huge fault line that made the Great Glen. It also draws a veil of modesty across industrial landscapes. I remember nearly 50 years when I walked from my parents’ house on the edge of London into the centre. Across Wormwood Scrubs and White City there was a stately kind of grey softening.

Also on the subject of condensed water, I came out of Morrisons in Fort William just as the steam train was starting its journey to Mallaig. The cylinder draincocks were open for a long time, and the nearby wood was infiltrated with steam, which was kind of weird and beautiful. This is what caused it…

Here is some moss Janet found…

Here is some softness on Loch Lochy…

Janet took this picture of a boat I saw on my way to John o’Groats in 2003..

We thank you God for water,
as vapour in the air, 
driving the weather, 
as sream, giving power,
as liquid, the drink that gives life, 
the power of hydroelectricity
the gentle rain,
the ceaseless sea, 
as ice, the cold beauty of the hills. 
We thank and praise you, 
our God and our maker. 

Congratulations to Janet for getting to Fort William on the West Highland Way, and now beginning on the Great Glen Way, which we hope will be flatter for the next few days.

Also thank you to Hannah for helping us out these last few days: it’s been great to have her with us.

Here’s Janet getting close to some small nature, surrounded by the magnificence of big nature…

… it’s something I’ve never found very easy, connecting the small with the large. How does God’s massive intention of love and saving the human race, to say nothing of the planet, connect with the fine grain of church life, magazines and rotas, and forbidding notices in car parks? Perhaps the answer is that very often it doesn’t, and we shouldn’t pretend it does.

God help us, when we stumble-
half-perceiving, half-knowing-
to see the big picture, 
and to know what to do to play our part.

And what is the big picture now? What can God conceivably be doing in this strange country where we moan about politicians all being liars, when for the most part they aren’t, but love the biggest liars. And how in these circumstances can we really see the big picture for sure?

We know Jesus lived in a dangerous time, with wars and rebellions and brutal suppression. But what we know of the Roman empire is not the stories that are most true, but the stories that are most persistent, often self-serving propaganda.

They go to Glencoe, their tiny cars, motorbikes, coaches, 4x4s, glinting in the sun all the way down the massive glen. And just as at the Tip, I am one of them.

Janet’s walk on time. Scenery lovely. Weather mixed, currently good. Signal inside the accommodation very poor, midges outside very numerous. Today Janet crossed Rannoch Moor to the Kingshouse Hotel. It was a beautiful walk.

It is a world hard
as granite, soft as lochans,
bog cotton: praise God. 

Today was a short walk for Janet, starting early, although full of lovely things. But we were done by lunchtime, and while Janet went for a rest, I wandered around a bit on the Three Lochs Way, and went to see the Arrochar community hydroelectric scheme. This can generate 120kW, although (despite the area’s reputation for rainfall) there was nothing when I passed.

Janet is brilliant at looking at the close up things – flowers, and small creatures. She is also good at noticing the big stuff on the horizon, and the scenery in general.

I, however, am more exclusively a landscape person. This is Ben Arthur, and I’m still not sure which of these bizarre rocky lumps is The Cobbler…

God, we praise you
for the glorious randomness of creation,
for things that don’t quite seem to make sense,
for things whose sense only begins to appear
beyond the breaking of all things.
We thank you for Jesus,
whose suffering and brutal execution make no sense:
we thank you for Jesus, the risen life within us.

Some people my age might remember at television series about a Clyde Puffer called the Vital Spark. The series was based on the stories of Neil Munro, who was from Inveraray, where Janet and I spent part of a day off after three days’ walk squeezed into an arduous two days.

We relaxed alongside many other tourists in this touristical spot. Oddly, it was this row of bins that caught my eye.

Anyway, to ensure that Janet’s vital spark didn’t go out, we had a day to rest and be thankful. We rested, and prayed later.

Handy that today we crossed the Rest and Be Thankful pass – much easier than crossing it on my bike nineteen years ago.

It was a long and hard day walking-wise. Here are a couple of pictures. It seems that railway station designers have a sense of humour these days…

In a place of great beauty, the world’s suffering, too, is present…

Today, Janet had her first day on the edge of the Highlands, and in keeping with the stereotype, it was a drizzly and rainy day. Nevertheless, the spectacular scenery was hinted at through the mist, if not clearly visible – like the God OT’s people met with their faces covered.

I don’t like the uncertainty of navigating life through the mist – but maybe people who claim to have a clear vision aren’t always to be trusted.