Spoons, chrysalis and summer

My title today may lead some to assume my descent into madness has increased pace, but no - not really. The day, however, did not begin well: after breakfast I was crossly cleaning out the cafetière that should have been emptied yesterday and took it into the garden as usual to chuck the grounds into the bushes. It was only when I heard the clink of the spoon I'd been using that I realised I had neatly cast it into the depth of the jaggy rosa rugosa thicket ... *

It got better after that. On this, the first Sunday after our emotional farewell to our priest, we were cheered by a great sermon by Paddy, our resident retired Canon whom we are so lucky to have to fill the gap in our spiritual care just now. Himself had picked some great hymns too, ending with a lovely modern one by Michael Hare-Duke, former Bishop of St Andrews to the tune of Beethoven's Ode to Joy. The singing, boosted by not only our own men but a visiting one, was rather amazing, and the concluding voluntary was one of Himself's inspirational improvisations on the Beethoven. The start of a vacancy can be a bleak, lonely time: today felt as if we can cope after all. 

By this time it was summer again. After coffee with Di we decided to take our lunch outside, and there I stayed until well on in the afternoon. Then I realised I was stiffening up horribly, so we went down to the Ardyne beach road for a walk in the warm sunshine. We saw all the Canada Geese in their field, milling gently around but showing no inclination to fly anywhere, and a small bull lay in the shadow of a massive bull who seemed to be providing a sunshade. 

Strange thing on the drive home: we had to slow down almost to a halt no fewer than three times to let a great gang of seagulls get off the road. They seemed to be pecking at something, and whatever it was interested them so much that they were unwilling to take off. Apparently Di saw some to the north of Dunoon as well - a distinctly Hitchcockian experience!

Dinner was far too late, so I'm wondering if I'll sleep when I leave off blipping and get to bed. I'd better go and find out ...

Photo, tediously, is of my pot corner of the patio, which makes me absurdly happy at the moment. The chrysalis in the title is not on view, but I am now watching the one that was a caterpillar on our back door when we returned from Edinburgh and now seems to have a brown rear poking out of its pale green casing. 

* I rescued the spoon by doing a bit of pruning later ...