Leaving the island

Under a dark and threatening sky, a line of people walk up the ramp and into the bowels of the ferry, held only by the power of its engines against the ramp on the island of Cumbrae. Looking at the photo, snatched before I too boarded on my way home, I felt it could be capable of a much more dramatic interpretation than the mere truth - that people like to visit the island for the day at the weekend and now it's teatime.

We were singing again, in the tiny Cathedral of The Isles, at a service to mark the 50 years since the ordination of a friend, a former Primus of the Scottish Episcopal Church. He chose music from that service 50 years ago, and the cathedral was packed with his family and friends. There was the usual Cumbrae bunfight (always a cut above your usual church fling) and some excellent socialising. My second photo is today's favourite for me, one I'm really proud of simply because it's so much fun: three bishops laughing their heads off as I threatened to fall down the steps while taking photos. It's not always easy in a full-length Whoopi Goldberg-type robe ...