Thinking of shepherds ...

I'm sorry - another morning sky, taken properly with the window open and me unsuitably clad for the moment hanging out - but it was so beautiful and so redolent of warning for any shepherds who happened to be sharing the moment with me that I couldn't resist. And we were well warned: this quiet, wonderful morning was succeeded by a growing greyness and a rising easterly wind which by late afternoon was driving heavy rain at our front door. 

But another kind of shepherd welcomed her human flock into church this morning, our often cold and often damp church on the hill with trees down in the grounds and half of the electrical circuitry not working. And this we knew about, having been well warned, so that if you'd seen the two of us heading out you might have been forgiven for thinking we were going on a winter walk, or maybe a skidoo ride - down jackets, padded trousers, fleece jerseys ... 

But when we arrived, we could see lights, a fire ... even though it was merely that there was one side of the church had some power so that we had one lit wall and one radiant wall heater. And the organ had its own power, though not the big speakers on the other side of the chancel. And the wonderful thing was that there was a congregation of 20 - hardly less than on ordinary Sundays at this time of year, with its mixture of people going off to the sunshine or at home ill. We sang three gentle hymns, including one of my faves, in the course of a said Eucharist, using the nave altar because there was no sound amplification and this brought the action closer to the congregation, all huddled into the space in front of the heater. 
It was a strangely joyous service - something to do with having beaten the odds and come together, something to do with the gospel reading itself, something to do with the sense of informality brought about by the changed circumstances. And afterwards, by some miracle of preparedness, there was coffee and people - and dogs - stood around chatting cheerfully. 

We took the opportunity to dismantle the créche - saves us going back in the week, and besides  the Wise Men wouldn't really be lurking around at Candlemas...And I've just realised I've left the starry sky backdrop, which was damp and horrid after its sojourn under the altar, in the tumble drier and must rescue it.

That was it, really - the only other outing we had was to fasten the new cover round the garden chairs, which had dried  in the morning and which were about to get rained on again. And then Himself noticed that the bin collection was going on as per timetable tomorrow so we had to drag both the bins through the neighbours' garden to the front gate in the dark and wet and wind and got completely frozen fingers in the process.

But then there was dinner, preceded by a small warming dram, and equanimity was restored. Extra photo is a collage from this morning. Oh - and spare a thought for the poor people in some of our outlying areas who are still without power since midday on Friday ...