Feels like working ...

I sometimes feel that Sunday is our day of work rather than a day of rest - the one day when both of us tend to have a firm commitment to be somewhere and do something. Today felt even more so - Himself always has to play, and I usually sing, but today I also preached and the piece I sang was new in its present incarnation and I had to be careful not to lapse into the alto part at a line change. There was also the very common tiny error in the text, this time missing the fact that "que" was being used as part of the preceding word, meaning "and". Because I recognised this, I couldn't bear to take a breath in what was, after all, mid-word ...

I also preached, which I always enjoy but which always leaves me succumbing to exhaustion when the adrenaline leaves me. Today was all about transfiguration, the feast which used to be observed solely on 6 August - Hiroshima Day - which always seemed to me its own hideous form of transfiguration. I once wrote a hymn - it was a request from the then Warden of the College on Cumbrae - which was suitable for Transfiguration not only for the Cathedral but also for our own church, as both stand on hills. I wrote it for the tune Selma, which I thought too good to be used only for a harvest hymn (set in English Hymnal to "Fair waved the golden corn") I'll stick it on the end of this post. 

After a post-lunch doze and sorting the veg for dinner, we went out to catch some sun, which seemed miraculously to be showing fleetingly to the south. That's where I got the above photo of the setting sun lighting up the wet sand alongside the shore road at Toward - it was suddenly and dramatically lit up. Dinner was rather late as a result - it was a Large chicken as the Mediums didn't have a good date - and I'm now at the staggering stage.  

I've stuck in an extra in a wee collage of tonight's tiny new moon. I'm insanely pleased with the photos because I've never managed to capture a totally clear image of the moon, but my new phone camera seems to do it.

HYMN FOR CUMBRAE
(Tune “Selma”)

The Spirit guides me here,
to meet upon this hill
The outstretched arms, the wounded hands,
The love that finds me still.

In silence I am held, 
Until my song takes flight
And breaking forth in golden notes
Fills heart and soul with light.

When I must leave this place
And face the world again
Good Saviour, from such holy ground
Come with me to the plain.

Consume my soul with fire,
Let love and peace fly free,
And at the end take all I am
And shape what I must be.

© C.M.