Next Sunday’s Lectionary gospel reading reminds me of the title of a book.
Meanwhile, with the autumn gathering pace, and yet still in summer time, I sometimes find myself setting off for my morning walk in semi-light. I came round a corner, and was so surprised by this,
that I spoke to a puzzled dog-walker in ancient Greek (the only bit of ancient Greek I know, because it comes off a little tower on a hill near Grange-over-Sands, just like (almost) the only bits of Welsh I know come from road signs).