Glorious Colour or Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud? (Take #2)

When tasks get ahead of me, the calendar gives me the eagle eye, and I don’t have the energy required to catch up… something has to go, and today it’s the blog. With memories of the Surrey Conference still fresh in mind, I hope you’ll excuse me for re-running this post that was originally inspired

Frozen Light

. “I am the light of the world.” . [John 8:12] . . How exquisite your love, O God! … You’re a fountain of cascading light, and you open our eyes to light. . [Psalm 36:7,9 – The Message] . . Blanshard Peak – 5,085 ft – part of the Golden Ears mountains of the Garibaldi Range

Light In the Darkness

  My journal rests forgotten on my lap, pen poised without words to record. I am mesmerized by light as flames dance in the fireplace, flickering into the shadows of a room otherwise lit only by Christmas lights. I’m not sure if there’s anything scientific about our fascination with light. I know in winter there

Of Light, Brightness and Sight

There is a symbolism associated with windows — eyes are said to be windows to the soul; a brief window of time suggests an opportunity to be snatched. Ordinary glass windows are important to me. We bought this house because of its windows. As soon as we walked in the front door we were captivated

Glorious Colour or Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud?

With apologies to Jack Whyte (from whom I learned the song) and Flanders and Swann (who wrote the lyrics), I could think of no better title for today’s post.   There’s no getting around it. Colour affects me. I’m forever remarking on the multitude of greens in the early spring, or trying to describe the