Time For The Martins

 The collective noun for House Martins is 'richness'. We  learn  from nature, and as the writer of Ecclesiasties says 'There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens'.

Time For The Martins

Early one  September morning I walked up to the high point overlooking Hooken Stack and out on the blue expanse of Lyme Bay.  Dew still on the ground, the sun had risen and was already well over Golden Cap, and Portland in the distance clear as a bell.

It was quiet, peaceful, typically Autumn, but having just passed the Lookout I came upon an aerial display, a flock of House Martins in all their 'richness', jerkily soaring and swooping around the cliff edge in their blue-black and white livery. Immediately taken up with this, I watched as the Martins continued their aerobatic masterclass topping up with insects on the wing.

Three bird watchers approached armed with binoculars fresh from spotting peregrines and I remarked on how the Martins were gathering, one replied, 'Yes, they will go when the weather's nice'.

I lingered, captured by this special moment before descending the Undercliff.

The next morning, another beautiful one, I returned to this spot, half expecting to see them again, but they were gone.

I pondered as I looked out across the rippling expanse, fishing boats at hand, container ships on the far horizon, Brittany beyond. 

The time had been right,  they had gone,  the wonder of it,  each the weight of a double A battery, headed to their winter home under African skies.

A Good Waltz

Life is bit of a waltz

A Good Waltz

Ladies and gentlemen please take your partner for the waltz

Slow quick quick, slow quick quick

Slow to speak

Quick to listen

Quick to forgive

Slow quick quick, slow quick quick

Slow to anger

Quick to settle a debt

Quick to make amends

Slow quick quick........

The Appeal

 

The Appeal

Why reject the one who created the universe the sky land and sea,

The sun and moon, sunflower, swallow, all things beautiful in their time and made you and me.

What is it that keeps you from the one who holds the world in his hands,  who is pure love and sent his only son  that you might forever stand.

Will you reject him all your days and say in your final breath, 

'I did it my way, that's it I did my best'

For  there will be a judgement and no liberty,

unless you're defended by Jesus the son of God who paid a great price to set you free.

For freedom, call out to him today and make your salvation sure,

Let him in for he is knocking, you can know him, knocking  at your door.

The Baby and the Bath Water

 With acknowledgement to Scott Peck's classic ''The Road Less Traveled'

The Baby and the Bath Water

So much dirty bath water surrounding the reality of God-

Holy Wars, inquisitions, animal and human sacrifice, superstition, stultification, dogmatism, ignorance, hypocrisy, self righteousness, rigidity, abuse, cruelty, book burning, witch burning, inhibition, fear, conformity, morbid guilt, insanity.......

That's better, got rid of the bath water, now where's the baby?

I'm Alex

 With acknowledgement to Scott Peck's classic 'The Road Less Traveled'.

I'm Alex

Hi I'm Alex and I'm a keen scientist, I focus well on what is in front of me, some might say it's tunnel vision but I do get to the bottom and discover things. You know we scientists have made great strides in understanding the universe. Why is difficult but How is where we really come in.

Like many bods I  love to experiment, make accurate observation and verify by measuring so that it is repeatable by others. That's how we make progress.

I love measuring, and  what we cannot measure, we cannot know. There is no point in worrying about what we cannot know, therefore what cannot be measured is unimportant and unworthy of our observation.

Sorry,  did you say what about miracles?

Are There Any Trees Left In Gaza- A Lament

 

Are There Any Trees Left In Gaza- A Lament

Are there any trees left in Gaza

Any joy any hope to be found

Bombs falling tears falling, falling

Down the cheeks onto the blood soaked ground.

The land, the Holy Land where Jesus Prince of Peace once walked 

Now an open prison of heart ache and despair,

Cannot a way be found for Israel Palestine that is just that is fair.

Lord have mercy on these people

May peacemakers on the ground prevail, 

And times be understood with angelic battles

Within the heavenly veil

For you are the way-make a way where there seems no way, of forgiveness, 

And let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream! ¹

You are the truth- bring down the lie,  which sets itself up against you, 

Exposed and triumphed over at the cross, that your kingdom may fully come.

You are the life-  may you be seen in the rubble and tears, through helping hands, 

And may many turn to you for eternal life.

Are there any trees left in Gaza any joy any hope.... 

Yes in the God of all hope they are truly to be found. 

¹ Amos 5.24

Who Is This?

 Who Is This?

Song inspired from Luke 8:25. 1994. No one comes remotely close in my view, but then again we don't have to be if He is in us.

Who is this that calls the wind and the waves

To be still at his spoken word

And walks upon the water

As it were the dry land

Who is this that changed the water to wine

And fed the thousands too

And said cast your nets upon the other side

The fish are there for you

(Chorus)

Jesus Lord you are the one who’s turned the world around

Displaying the mighty power of God right throughout the land,

And now the Spirit’s in our hearts and we have faith too

In the name of Jesus those mountains move.

Who is this that cast out evil spirits

And heals the sick and lame

Who restores the broken hearted

And raise the dead from their graves

Who is this that we should stand in awe

As he taught with authority

Words bringing life

The truth to set us free

Chorus

Who is this that sweat those precious drops of blood

In Gethsemane

And on the cross a pierced loving heart

Dying for you and me

Who is this that death could not hold

The royal battle won

And now we have faith to believe for the kingdom of the son

And now we have faith to believe for the kingdom of the son.

The Holy Of Holies

 Chatting with a friend, a former manager of M&S, he amusingly referred to a certain food retailer as 'The Holy of Holies'. Well food  perhaps being one of the new religions, here are the top 10 UK supermarkets  with their advertising slogans featured in italics.

The Holy of Holies

And so, armed with my shopping list and  eco jute  bag, i approached the Outer Court,  past street vendors,  nearly being knocked down by an Ocado vehicle,  with its driver shouting out the window, 'Going the last mile'.

Iceland, the frozen food experts-food you can trust were by the door and as I entered the Outer Court I was met by a wide assortment of customers  busy in the middle aisle and rummaging through crates labelled 'Big on quality, Lidl on price'. Someone at the Aldi check out nearby sweating and smiling with a laden trolley simply said, 'Spend a little, live a lot'.

I decided to press through to the slightly quieter Inner Court to be told in no uncertain terms 'It's what we do-Co-op'  and 'Get the Asda price feeling'. Whilst I was searching for the feeling I was   distracted by a tanoy announcement 'More reasons to shop at Morrisons. All department managers for a huddle in ten'.

Well, maybe I'll discover the 'reasons' next time and continued up the 12 Steps towards the Holy Place. There were staff on hand from Sainsburys taste the difference team on one side where good food costs less, not sure about that, less than what, and saying they were helping people eat better. Meanwhile rival  Tesco's Finest on the other  were confident 'Every little helps'. Well i am sure it does, however, this was all too much, even with the app, and I thought I would  check out the Holy Place.

 As I entered the atmosphere changed, and it wasn't the efficient air-con. I became self-conscious, adjusted my appearance in the window, combed my hair and made doubly sure i had the means to pay. Well the Holy place was anything but ordinary,  well heeled, black shirted staff  meeting my gaze in the food hall with, 'This is not just food-this is M&S food'. I was impressed,  it was nice to be welcomed, until the bill, and i still felt  slightly unfulfilled knowing there was more, yes....the Holy of Holies.

I summoned up the courage to enter this special place, yes that's right, the Holy of Holies, not reserved for just the CEO yearly like a high priest, no but for  one and all and daily too, as though the curtain had been torn in two giving unlimited access. Before me was the finest of fare, every comestible and comfort, a pleasurable experience to behold.

A smartly turned out assistant was immediately to hand and in a politely spoken manner proudly announced the words memorised from the manual, 'We are more than employees we're  owners, partners. I presume you have your members card,  do join me in a complimentary cup of coffee and magazine, I'll tell you more of what this heaven on earth is like.  After all its food to feel good about, quality food, honestly priced. Everyone deserves quality food. Everyone deserves Waitrose'.

Three Men In A Car: Maroc Espana

Flew out to Marrakech and drove back to Bath with friends Tom, and Rev Patrick in his Peugeot 207. Across Morocco and Spain taking in Casablanca, Fes, Tangier (Cueta), ferry Straits of Gibraltar, Algeciras, Granada (Alhambra), Albarcin, Zaragoza, Pamplona, Santander, ferry to Plymouth. Some reflections on a great trip.  May 2023.

Maroc Espana

Land of medinas and souks

The chaotic and exotic

Monkeys wearing dresses, cobras charmed for their supper, all the fun of the fair in the square Marrakech!

Towering mosques,  'Salaam Alaikum Allahu Akbar' -'Wa Alaikum Salaam'.

The dirham's king,  the tourist an opportunity 'my friend, come with me'

Ancient and modern sit together with artisans working thuya, pottery,  mosaics,  leather, weavers at the loom,  centres of study with the world's 1st university, fields worked the old fashioned way, fruit and veg for the foreign table, big plans for harnessing the wind and sun.

The high Atlas an inviting backdrop, Sahara to the south with coastlines, a King, palaces, riads,  kaspars the feral and fez, 

Mules,  horses,  camels, motorbikes all lively options, feel the heat join the beat, 'play it again Sam' at Casablanca's Rick's Cafe.

Parle vous Francais? Enjoy a mint tea and tagine, listen to a Berber's story, be still at a fountain pool an oasis jardin for an hour or two,

Maroc is growing with a bienvenue.

Across the Strait, past the Rock olla buenos dias senor senora, home to tapas,  citrus,  flamenco and the running bull.

Smart roads connecting fortified medieval gems in the quiet scrubby interior, city plazas stylishly combining old and new, where rich and mellow the  guitar sweetly sings. 

Catholic baroque and gothic watch over the mighty Ebro, the influence of The Moors  treasured, regions steeped in history like Aragon and o sweet Catherine a sad end with a humble grave in England.

 Goya,  Picasso exhibit once again-si si Espana has much to celebrate-a cultural superpower where the world wants to visit,  a colonising language, a serious EU player, banking acumen in Santander and Aviva, solar and wind powerhouse,  muy buena health care, The Veulta,  a Nadal or Real,  a land of beaches, ex pats, goats herds, ham, olives, fish, and catch crops for Europe.

Espana,  a country on the camino way, deep wounds healed of civil war, the Catalan quest, challenge of jobs for the young- ever moving towards Santiago Compostela-  muchas grasias senor senora, hasto luego!

 

Ring For The King

 

Fri 5th May 2023, St Winifreds Church Branscombe, eve of Coronation of King Charles 111

Ring For The King

In a sleepy Devon village

On the eve of a crowning

Three generations sound

A coronation peel

Look to trebles going

The Queen has passed

Trebles gone.

Ring the changes 1, 2

Ring the changes 3, 4

Sally forth o King , sally forth!

What Is The Point?

 Catherine’s Retirement & Resurrection Lunch. Easter, 2023- there was fizz😄

What Is The Point?

What is the point of a
Birthday without the candles
Celebration without the fizz
Retirement without a send off
Life without a purpose
Actor without a stage

What's the point of
Christmas without a virgin birth
Easter without a resurrection
Mountain without a summit
Tunnell with no ending
Ship with no rudder
A problem with no solution

And as for
Effort but no power
Sowing without reaping
Plant without water
Bud but no flower
Blossom but no fruit
Forgiven without forgiving
Shown mercy without being merciful

Oh and
Justice without mercy
Giving without receiving
Loved without loving
Sheep with no shepherd
Served but not willing to serve

And even
Of a longing not fulfilled
An absence of war but no peace
A Saviour but not being saved
End of life without eternity
Eternity without a heaven
What IS the point?

A Short Poultry Story- Life On The Plot

 Loved keeping hens over the years, you can wile away the hours just watching them

Life On The Plot

 A paltry poultry story by Paul Bright. Dec 2010

We were glad to get away from the farm i can tell you- no not that farm at Langley CIA HQ silly; I mean Paxcroft Farm the other side of Trowbridge!  1500 of us cooped up in that barn, so getting selected was pretty smart, don’t you think?  We just got grabbed by the legs and stuffed in a box actually, not the correct way to handle a bird! Cor can remember that day like yesterday, it was so hot in that box coming across to Bath in the car, I tried to tell the little girl, Molly’s her name I think, to give us some more air but she didn’t want to know, I think she was a bit scared of us initially with our big feet, flappy wings and sharp beaks. You know crammed in like that with my new buddies I had to keep my beak open just to breathe.

Well, we soon arrived on ‘the plot’ as we now call it, a small secluded allotment site surrounded by houses, nevertheless, with the greenery etc we don’t feel overlooked as we need our privacy when performing our ‘daily miracle’, yea we like it there and feel well settled. Took a few days to sus out the place, however, bearing in mind that big barn we came from and don’t forget we’re only youngsters, POL- point of lay dummy,  and learning the ropes. Anyway we were put in this ark and run on ‘the plot’ under the plum tree, and didn’t know we had to go down the ladder to get out, so we were stuck up there until the people took us down. Same when it was time for bed we just thought we would be carried up like kids but no, had to do it ourselves- got it sorted now, bit of independence like.

I am glad we were given names by the people because it means we won’t be eaten, least we hope not- we did hear one of the people say they would put us in the pot after the first year and it doesn’t pay to keep hens after their second laying season- we’ll take our chance, 4-5 years would be a good life. We’ve got our private names of course but to you I’m Eeny, the dark one and top of the pecking order and my buddies are Meeny, Miny and Moe, something about a rhyme, or something.

You probably want to know what breed we are- Highline one of the coolest layers going, none of our fancy cousins like Buff Orpington who strut around the place, look pretty but don’t produce the goods. It would be nice to have a bit of male company such as a Leghorn  cockerel to keep us in order, we do like to misbehave, and have a few kids running about the place- can’t believe the number of people who don’t know how chickens are made. But we know it would upset the neighbours and it’s against the allotment regs anyway- ‘cattle, dogs and poultry shall not be kept in such places or in such a manner as to be a nuisance or annoyance to the inhabitants’- sounding off at 3am on a summer’s morning wouldn’t do would it?

Now we soon got a daily routine established- up with the sun, come down, bit of a pooh, drink and feed, house cleaning, back up for the ‘miracle’- now that can be a pressure because only two of us can get in the nesting box at one time and if you can’t wait your have to lay it carefully on the landing! Once the egg has been discharged you can take it easy and have a preen, that’s a personal clean, fluffy bottoms and all that- we go mad after wet weather when there is a bit of sun coming through. We need to preen the old feathers with the waxy stuff using the gland at the base of our vent at the top of the tail, to waterproof the feathers again. We like a bit of grit too to help the digestion, you see grit in the gizzard acts like teeth for us-‘like hen’s teeth’ get it? We haven’t got any! The people tend to come up in the afternoon and are pretty good on cleaning us out, getting the goods of course and letting us have a run around and stretch our legs. A balanced layers meal is just the ticket for us, ok like cats the same every day, and we prefer the organic type. Greens-yep more the merrier and even a bit of pasta or rice- eh some wise crack said we could be chicken tikka masala, sure!!! 

Blue the black cat with the bent ear is a bit of a pain and stalks us; we tolerate him and show whose boss by making noises and flapping our wings at him. Monty the other one is much more sensible and just watches us from a distance.

We like to grub around, especially when the ground has been freshly dug, but have to be careful though, and not get in the way of the spade or fork- it’s not nice on the foot you know! We like to wander and ended once up over the fence in the next door garden.  The people haven’t clipped our wings so we like to fly low and whizz around like a harrier. We do like a good dust bath especially in the poly tunnel alongside the tomatoes where the soil is warm and fine- keeps our plumage healthy, cool in hot weather and those nasty insect pests at bay. We’re not too keen on the wind and rain that’s why we really appreciate the people putting us in the poly tunnel over winter, smart move. Even then the water has frozen over on occasions and its tough breaking it through.

They usually coax us in with some corn –fall for it nearly every time but occasionally give them the run round. Might have a final drink before bed, and then at dusk it’s time to go up the ladder and into the house for  TV, knitting, watch a film like Chicken Run etc before wing over the head and settle down for the night on the bar.

Now i gotta explain a bit more about the ‘daily miracle’. The people say it is  ‘a miracle’ every time we lay one- they’re right of course- a miracle as you know is  ‘An event that appears inexplicable by the laws of nature and so is held to be supernatural in origin or an act of God: One that excites admiring awe’. Our eggs are beautifully packaged and one can recycle the shell in all sorts of ways. Eggs last a long time, you don’t have to keep them in the fridge by the way, and as for value for money, I cost £7, well there is the cost of the feed but think how many I lay- for instance 1 a day, hardly miss,  that’s hundreds in a year, thousand or so in a life time!

Listen a few facts about  eggs, you need to follow this closely, it’s a bit technical- eggs develop one by one in us and become detached and slip into the oviduct- along a twisted tube ending in the vent or anus through which our droppings and eggs pass on leaving the body. You see the oviduct is in two parts. In the first portion the white or albumen is deposited around the yolk of the egg- takes 3-5hrs and in the second part of the oviduct the shell is made which is another 15hrs, got to get the packaging right for the customer otherwise it’s a mess, oh and there’s no date on it, you have to do that yourself- so you see we’ve always got one on the go. Sometimes we do a double yoker just for a laugh. Recently Meeny laid a 100g egg a real whopper. (3.5oz) 

As yet we haven’t had any hassle from the fox and keep pretty well thanks. We only start to moult after 12months beginning early autumn and haven’t been tempted or tested with getting broody, feather eating, egg eating, egg binding, prolapses, common colds, roup, cramp, liver disease, fowl cholera, crop bound, or Newcastle disease whatever that is!  On Guy Fawkes Night our owners had made a bonfire and we overheard someone say to them you could have roast chicken- not funny!

What  do we contribute?-  fresh manure for sure, the very best you can get- per bird per day is over 90g (4oz)- in fact if you had 100 birds you would make nearly four tons a year, think about that...deep pooh! Our eggs are freeish range- £1.20 half doz to you, normally £1.76 check out the colour of the yoke, oh and let’s not forget creating amusement, pleasure- we’ve quite a repertoire of sounds, don’t mind being picked up and stroked, we keep the bugs down, make the new neighbours feel welcome and grub over their freshly dug ground.

Well, time to wind up, why don’t you come up and see us sometime, we’ll show you around the plot and if you have time then join us for a meal. On the menu this week is a smoked salmon soufflé starter, Lancashire Tart main course, accompanied by  fresh veg from the plot, and for pud a choice of chocolate roulade, crème caramel or pavlova- all with fresh eggs of course! Yeah come on up, we’re always in!

PS. Post meal entertainment: The World's Longest List of Chicken Sayings...! http://www.chickenvideo.com/sayings.html

A Short Drama for Christmas for family and friends -Blood On The Snow

 

Blood on the snow

 Light Christmas drama story, narrated with props, audience sits in circle in the dark. 2001

  

This is the story of the one eyed mountaineer Berg Schmit, here’s his other eye (pass round wet marble or pickled onion).

One day he went mountain walking with his friend of many years standing Rabin Ravine. It was winter and snowy (pass snow/wet/ice cubes).

 

One thing Berg always did when going out was to take his small pet rat called Nibbles (pass mouse).

They climbed higher and higher through the forest (pass fern) and past mountain cattle and sheep (sound of sheep/cows-toy), towards the shelf ridge which they could clearly see through the binoculars (pass bins).

 

Now unknown to Berg, Rabin was heavily in debt over a business transaction. He was so desperate, and knowing of Berg’s wealth, and that he lived alone, he decided there and then to kill him. He would then impersonate Berg, take his funds from the bank account and no one would know.

 

By now they were walking across a crevasse and Rabin seized the moment by stabbing him in the back of the neck with the end of a ski pole (pass ski pole). Berg fell forward in agony and Rabin then hurriedly picking up a rock repeatedly rained blows on his head, rendering him unconscious (pass rock).He thought he was dead. Rabin had to hide the body so that he would never be found and so pushed him down into the crevasse. Little did he know however was that Berg was alive and lodged on a ledge out of sight 20 feet down. After a couple of hours he came too and immediately took some survival tablets (pass tablets).  He knew he had to get out soon as the wound to his head was becoming gangrenous and smelt awful (pass stilton cheese). Even Nibbles was getting interested, he was so hungry. His fingers were hard to the core (pass carrot).

 

Then he thought Nibbles was his only chance and decided to tie a note to him with the location. He sent him up the crevasse and was gone. Nibbles had to find human help, he knew that. Walkers were often passing by this popular route and Nibbles hadn’t gone far when he bumped into someone (pass mouse with note).

 

Help soon arrived at the top of the crevasse and Berg could signal his location with his torch (flash torch).The rescuers lay down a rope (pass rope) and Berg was quickly pulled clear. One of the rescuers had a walkie talkie and called in a red cross helicopter with doctor(radio talk). The doctor immediately gave Berg a morphine injection to ease the pain (pass loaded syringe of water) and he was then transported to Innsbruck Hospital.

 

It was decided immediately to operate and Berg could smell the clinical smell of the operating theatre (pass TCP/Surgical spirit on cotton wool) whilst the surgeons were gowning up (pass plastic gloves). The operation was risky and surgeons had to pull the skin away from the brain, exposing the brain itself (pass part cauliflower/cabbage). They completed by using a stapler and scissors (pass stapler and scissors).

 

Berg was in the recovery room and was able to speak for the first time-life was coming back. He told the nurse in attendance everything about Rabin who was later arrested (pass handcuffs) and convicted of attempted murder……

 

….Oh but sorry to say Nibbles didn’t survive and died from frost bite (pass mouse).

 

What is the moral of the story? Don’t take your pets for granted, you never know when they might come in, however small, and may even save your life .    

A Short Story- Bees Behaving Badly

 

Bees Behaving Badly

Paul Bright 2002

 

‘Eat honey my son for it is good: honey from the comb is sweet to the taste, know also that wisdom is sweet to your soul.’ Proverbs 24.13.

 

Well there they were on the beautiful Llyn Peninsula of North Wales, it’s the long finger of land that thrusts out towards Ireland if you don’t know. Basing themselves in their friend’s holiday cottage called Ty Pen, which means end house, at Nefyn an un commercialised historic little town famous in the past for its shipbuilding and herring fleet, Paul and Catherine’s minds were buzzing with a list of things they needed for the week. Taking a trip to the local Spar they decided there was still one item missing for the two honey monsters…. a jar or two of the local nectar!

 

Making a beeline for a cottage situated nearby in the delightful little village of Edern they knew of a family who sold at the door and from whom Paul and Catherine had bought some honey cone from last year.

 

The door was answered by a tall thin lady with long, finely combed hair and done up in cone like fashion held by a red clasp. From within there was a buzzing sound of children and plates clattering and it immediately became clear it was tea time with the brood swarming round the table, tucking into a tasty dish like bees round a honey pot.

 

The lady called out to her husband ‘sweetheart there’s someone who wants to buy honey’. ‘Okay my queen, coming’, came the reply from deep within. Paul apologised for calling at such a busy time, ‘Oh no’, she said, ‘we’re used to flying into action at a moment’s notice, nature of the business’. 

 

Mr Haywood the beekeeper came to the door, a man in his forties with suntanned complexion and wearing round-rimmed glasses resembling compound eyes. He was holding a couple of pots of liquid gold…wildflower and heather honey, which he had taken from his store at the bottom of the stairs.

 

The beekeeper had a cold, evidenced by him blowing a runny nose, however, on being asked how the bees were he started waxing lyrical about the years he had been an apiarist. In fact we learnt later that he was the bee inspector for the area and would visit other beekeepers to check on their broods and produce.

 

At one point Mr Haywood confessed that when he had the bees at home he got into trouble with the neighbours and had to move them to an ‘out apiary’ site. On enquiring why he described that when the bees took off together they always went on the same flight path over his neighbour’s car and rhetorically asked, ‘do you know what the first thing bees do when they take off?’ No what are the first thing bees do when they take off?  He said ‘they open their bowels and their droppings set like enamel and in this case over the neighbour’s new car. My neighbour was beside himself with anger and so I had to move them’.    

 

By this time the beekeeper was droning on somewhat and Paul and Catherine wanted to settle up. They were told the honey was a set price at £3.50 a jar, but more expensive at the shop a few doors away where the proprietor tended to hive off some profit. Paul and Catherine thought they had been stung as back home in Bath one could get it at the local greengrocers for £2.20 for 454grams, which is 1lb for those who still like to think that way.  Catherine concluded ‘well if it keeps one worker in business I believe its worth it, lets be off and taste and see!’.

  

THE END

 

Honey               Honing             Honig                Miel                 Mel Pur

PS. I  later had the wonderful experience of  learning to keep bees 'out apiary' on a nearby farm. 

A Short Story- Bruce The Christmas Spruce

 A short story to Catherine,  niece Claire and nephew Tom. December 1988

Bruce the Christmas Spruce

Christmas is coming, Christmas is coming, Christmas is coming!

 

So the words whistled in the wind around the forest, high up in the glen.

 

Bruce the Scottish spruce knew as well as any, having seen it all before, but this year he had a feeling things were going to be different. Standing ten feet tall he was truly a fine pine, braving the worst storms and providing shelter for creatures below.

 

Bruce could now see the workers approaching armed with saws and spades, ready to take the Christmas stock of trees. A hush fell upon the forest and a sapling was heard to say to his older neighbour,

 

‘I don’t want to go, don’t let them cut me down’

 

‘Stop pining!’  Came the reply, ‘this is what you were planted for!’

 

Bruce had his needles crossed as the men worked nearby. The sound of the saw sent shivers down his pine, and yes he was right, it was going to be different this year….it was his turn!

 

The saw was put to the bottom of the tree and Bruce closed his eyes in despair for what was to come.

 

‘Don’t cut me down, don’t cut me down’, he cried.

 

At that moment the man stopped as though someone had spoken to him and he put the saw down, picked up a spade and dug Bruce up roots and all!

Bruce could not contain his relief and thanked the man for the chance to live.

 

It was a bumpy journey in the back of the trailer with all those Christmas trees- it gave him pins and needles, Soon,however, Bruce could see the town lights and the hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers.

 

‘Where am I going, who is going to buy me, oh I want to live’. These were the thoughts that filled his mind.  

 

‘£10, huh, I thought I was worth more than that, still I’ll be a bargain for someone’.

 

And no sooner had he said this than a couple picked him up and put him in the back of their Land rover. On the journey Bruce had company too. Claire and Tom talked excitedly of how they were going to decorate the tree. They were really nice; perhaps things were not going to be so bad after all.  

 

Bruce looked a picture in the drawing room even though he didn’t believe in fairies and would have preferred an angel on top. The white lights sparkled and really set him off. For a moment he saw himself waltzing across the floor with Ruth, an old friend in the forest- what a sweet fragrance she had!

 

Soon the Christmas festivities were in full swing and Bruce loved every minute, especially covering up the presents on the tree with his branches so that Claire and Tom had difficulty finding them.

 

On New Years day though Bruce felt really unwell and it wasn’t due to too much Christmas pudding that was for sure. His needles were dropping like nine pins and he needed water quickly if he was to survive- had the family forgotten he was alive?

 

Bruce started counting the days of Christmas on what was left of his needles, but his pining must have been heard for as the family sang ‘On the 12^th day of Christmas’, Claire said

 

‘Come on we’re going to plant you outside and watch you grow!’

 

Bruce’s face unknotted and his shrivelled trunk creaked with sighs of relief,

 

‘A chance to live, but can I survive after losing so many needles?’

 

Luckily the family were keen gardeners and gave Bruce FIRst Aid and he not only survived but grew into the finest Scots Pine in the land. 

Birds and small creatures would come from afar just to nest in his branches, and what he loved more than anything was when Claire and Tom climbed right to the top of the tree, that really tickled. But little did they know that as the children looked out they could see the forest he came from, and his heart went out to that place.

 

One night Bruce had a dream that he was back in the forest with his friends and it was Christmas again. This time though he didn’t hear the whistle in the wind…

 

Christmas is coming, Christmas is coming, Christmas is coming!

 

No, it was a new sound, that was vibrant and exciting….

  

Jesus is coming, Jesus is coming, Jesus is coming!

 

Then the trees started singing with joy….

 (Isaiah 55)

 

‘Oh he comes to judge the earth

He will judge the world in righteousness

And the peoples in truth 

(Psalm 96:12)

 

The noise became louder and louder as a mighty wind blew through the forest causing the branches to rustle with joy. A shout went up and then Bruce saw an amazing thing….the trees actually started to clap their branches, singing again and again the words he had heard, as they swayed together in the wind.  ‘Oh he comes to judge the earth……’

 

Bruce was so excited his needles stood on end and he just felt he had to join in, swaying to and fro. Oh how he wanted the dream to go on forever.

 

Suddenly he stopped… and realised it wasn’t a dream at all… but that it was actually happening. He knew then that it really would go on forever and ever. 

 

(Finish with chorus- You shall go out with joy and be led forth with peace and the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you. There’ll be shouts of joy and the trees of the fields shall clap, shall clap their hands.

And the trees of the field shall clap their hands and the trees of the field shall clap their hands, and the trees of the field shall clap their hands, and you’ll go out with joy. Songs of Fellowship 640)

 

THE END

There Was A Young Virgin

What does Christmas mean to you?    December 2012

There was a young Virgin

There was a young virgin, a Nazarene

Pledged to Joseph who had a dream

The child she would bear, 'God with us' there

The world through him would redeem

 

To Bethlehem travel and register

They could find no place to rest for her

When time for the birth, there was only the earth

Out the back was best they could do for her

 

The shepherds were shocked at the news

Even the sheep were looking bemused

But the angel was right and there in the night

The baby in manger they viewed

 

Wise men travelled in from the east

And asked Herod where was the feast

The feast of the king born King of the Jews

We’ve followed his star from the east

 

To the house the star came to rest

The wise men entered and blessed

Blessed and worshipped the child there lay

And gifts they gave of their best

 

Eight days passed, to the temple they went

Named Jesus and the cut underwent

Prophetic manna from Simeon and Anna

Blessed them as Galilee bent

 

When Herod realised he'd been outplayed

By the Magi who'd gone on their way

The boys were slaughtered, he gave the order

There was weeping and wailing for days

 

Then Joseph warned in a dream

Took child and Mary unseen

From Bethlehem fled, to Egypt led

Away from Herod’s cruel scheme

 

In time an angel appeared

There was now no need for fear

To Nazareth led they made their bed

In wisdom and grace he was reared.

....The child she would bear, 'God with us' there

The world through him would redeem

In The Resurrection

  Reflecting on the death of The Queen and Liz Chatfield and others Sept 2022.

In the Resurrection. 

The Queen is in the resurrection

With the angels

Saved into your loving presence

Life for eternity 

And Rod's there, Liz, Graham, Ivor, Alex too

Dad's in the resurrection, and Grandpa, Grandma, Auntie Marjorie.

Begonia's there with Simon, and Quintus, Roger, Margaret, Linda and Jill

And Billy's in the resurrection, with Corrie, Dietrich, John, Lydia, Cornelieus, Paul, Cephas, Thomas, and 

millions more...Mary, Daniel, Esther, Nehemiah, Moses, Noah...

There with the angels in your loving presence

Life for eternity, And you too?