Laborare est orare?

Another early(ish) morning tea disrupted by the sky today: I got up to take pictures of pink clouds above the Firth as the sun rose, and was turning away from the south-east facing window in the bay when I was startled by the most magnificent rainbow looming through the left-hand one. It was bright enough actually to be shedding its own light on the hills; I was awed by it. 

By this time my feet were too cold to take them back to bed, so I got up and piled on what I think of as extreme winter indoors clothes - have I told you there's no radiator in my bedroom? By the time I'd had breakfast and tidied up the rain that had come with the rainbow had gone off again, and the sun streamed in as I opened the back door to take out some rubbish. This had the effect on my usually associated with Spring: I could ignore the mess on the floor no longer. (The trouble with a kitchen that opens directly to the garden is that everything out there tends to find its way indoors - leaves, dust, the odd slug ...) Anyway, I spent a vigorous hour or so sweeping (long-handled brush first, then hand brush and dustpan), washing the shelves beside the pedal bin, emptying and washing said bin and the little compost bin, wiping down cupboard doors ... totally knackering. I feel sure I'm supposed to do this kind of thing every day, but life gets in the way. 

After coffee I took myself resolutely up to the chilly study (no radiator there either - no space to accommodate one!) to write the Intercessions for Sunday. I find writing public prayer to facilitate the prayers of others quite a challenge - avoiding telling God what God already knows, summarising the world news, avoiding clichés, maintaining register ... that sort of thing. It was after 1 o'clock by the time I'd finished and Himself was making noises about lunch.

All this meant we were kinda late getting out for a walk. Again. We arrived on Loch Striven side just as the sun vanished behind a cloud over Bute, and by the time we were ready to turn back we could see grey mists of drizzle approaching across the loch. However, the rain wasn't heavy and soon stopped, so that by the time we were passing the fuel depot pier the sky was almost clear. Suddenly, through the trees to our left, we could see the moon again, larger than last night's, appearing above the Creag na Cailleach (extra photo because I've posted that stone and its story here before). It all felt very atmospheric, and the silence was barely broken by the tiny waves on the shore.

As you can perhaps tell, the last two days have raised my spirits hugely after the days of rain and cloud which had dumped them in the depths. Himself had made curry for dinner, and we rounded off the day with an episode of Babylon Berlin on Sky - is anyone else watching it? I'm enjoying it hugely, in a grim sort of way.

I have a long meeting on Zoom tomorrow - I need to sleep so that I can be clothed and in my right mind on time!