Bob Warwicker's blog

Out fairly early this morning, mists coming and going, and a hammock moon high in the sky. It wasn’t quite level, as I’d have to be nearer the equator for that. It was like a disembodied smile, which was a little disturbing, as smiles really need faces. The lights on the A628 shone through a slot in the mist. Up near the old quarry near Rhodeswood, the mist looked like a sea, with headlands poking into it and the isles of Mouselow and Werneth Low. As I neared the quarry, the sun was starting to warm things up, and an inconsistent breeze started. Coming back down, I could see that sudden upcurrents were plucking skeins of mist high into the air, where they dissipated. As the breeze came, I was hoping to see some Kelvin-Helmholtz waves, although it was a bit too chaotic for anything to be very clear – there were one or two formations that looked a bit like breaking waves. In threequarters of an hour, the mist had gone and it was beautifully sunny. Soon after that, the rain came.

PS just trying out the gallery option in WordPress. It appears you have to right click on an image and choose ‘open in new tab’ if you want to see it individually…

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

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).

I woke up to fog this morning

So I decided to go up our local hill

To see what it looked like from there

Watched the film Harriet last night, about the ‘underground railroad’ (sic) helping slaves escape to the north – now those people were entitled to be ‘freedom-loving’.

Nice cunims yesterday evening, although I suspect the anvils weren’t particularly high…

Wet for my walk this morning. I did some shopping today, and when I bent down to pick up the newspaper, a load of drips fell off my cagoule onto it.

Just finished reading ‘Wild’ by Cheryl Strayed, having seen the film. You get the humour and the internal stuff much better from the book. It’s about a woman who goes on a long walk – and a host of other things as well.

Janet is now blogging daily – her letters to Benedict.

Made from tiny splinters of ice, a dramatic skyscape…

Living God, turn our ordinary lives into
the material for
the amazing picture
of your love in all the generations
of the human race.

A walk in the rain this morning, although it’s brightening up now. It’s fun even in the rain. I could walk less, but only if I eat less, and that’s not easily done.

As I think I mentioned, I’ve been compiling a map of our walking history. I like to think that we’re getting to know this land on foot, the only way to know it properly. We have a number of nodes, places where we’ve lived and there are walks all round them. Some of them are joined up already. Maybe one day they’ll all join up and give us a sense of being in one continuous place, not just isolated places. I saw a union flag on a vehicle just now, and remembered how I used to love it. I don’t anymore. Nevertheless, this European island* is the one I know and the one of which I am bizarrely fond.

God, help me to be
a critical friend to my nation,
remembering always your call
to do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with you.

* I’m not so familiar with the other parts of the UK.

Is there something about Ian Duncan-Smith that we don’t know? Trawling through some photos for the Prayers For Places website, I found this (it was in Hull, hence ‘trawling’)…

Small note from Sunday’s Lectionary. Just note that Euodia and Syntyche “have struggled beside me in the work of the gospel…”, according to Paul. That was nearly two thousand years ago. You’d think that by now women would have equal respect in the work of the gospel.

Today was a lovely morning, but underfoot had the signs of last night’s heavy rain. The small road I walked down was more a stream, and the flowing water seemed to be spooking the cattle that were trying to cross it. A woman at an upstairs window of her house was shooing two small calves out of her front garden. When the farmer apologised, she cooed, “Oh they’re lovely at that age!” The stream ended in a puddle at the bottom of the hill, whose escape route I had to unclog.

Showers today, mostly early on.

Speaking of which, our leaders and betters seem to have little idea of mathematics, let alone history. In a world in which 954 >= 1000, anything could happen, which probably explains his optimism. History’s not my thing, so perhaps I shouldn’t mention this, but didn’t some Dutch people do a takeover of the UK’s antecedents about three hundred-and-odd years ago?

I’ve been to collect a parcel, get a newspaper and bakery items, but I doubt I’ll walk any more today. The weather is discouraging. Strictly speaking, it’s showery I believe, but look outside and you’d just say, ‘wet’. Having finally managed to set up the home network to work with a 4G modem (not sure how – I think they call that ‘voodoo programming’), I think I’m looking at reading a book about PTSD, and catching up with some places that are waiting for ‘prayers for places’.

Also I need some initial thoughts about Sunday week – people of faith and our relationship with secular powers … “Give to Caesar” …

Remarkably, the weather was dry for the duration of our walk today – though not on either side of it.

Sunday’s Lectionary includes the bit about the people going strange quickly when Moses fails to come back down the mountain. People aren’t stupid: they watch their leaders. They know what’s going on. If the leaders don’t pay attention, community starts to collapse. If leaders set an example, people follow that example, good or bad. It’s not just what you say, it’s what you do. Above all, there needs to be a sense of leaders themselves being led (preferably for me, by God – but by principles at least). Anyway, what do I know? I was never very successful in any of the leadership roles I had.

There’s sun and scattered low clouds now, and it looks as if someone’s turned up the contrast control on the landscape. Some of my indoor time has been spent compiling a map of our walking histories, to see what dots might get joined up. It’s brought up memories and forgettings. Some of the places we’ve lived and worked, separately and together, have been joined by chains of walking, some not.

God help us know the world as you know it,
with love and tenderness.
May we have in us the mind of Christ,
who didn’t count power as a thing to hold in his fist,
but lived an ordinary life
of extraordinary love
and holy passion for the what is right.