A wonderful mystery, the way the sermon always emerges from the fog, even when you've given up hope!

Well, lots of lovely things in here, me hearties ... Aren't we lucky!

Grappling with the mammon of wickedness in a wonderfully quiet house: what early mornings are for.

Some astonishing pics from the woods this morning, taken by my friend rebekahcwhite. See more on her insta.

A grey but otherwise glorious day; the bluebells are holding their own, a purple froth on the all-surrounding sea of green; and a good friend to drink beer with in the Plough. Bliss.

I have at last finished this odd novel. Not unlike Decline and Fall, it is relentless in its slapstick tumbling. Its creator could certainly write comic prose, if perhaps a little too abundantly.

Last night I met one of my larger and more striking parishioners. And he was a gentle as a lamb.

The scene in #Besselsleigh Woods early on. Agreeably stark!

Disturbed sleep in the night leaves me wanting to sleep now, but there is a puppy in da house who will jump up and down till she is taken out to run through the woods and sniff things.

I suppose you could say that an inter-continental ballistic missile is made from natural ingredients, though it doesn't make them especially good for you.