On Tuesday, I set off for Iona — not, as you might think, in eager anticipation and delight, but with a ‘to-do’ list a mile long, increasing anxiety at the speed with which Holy Week was approaching, and impatience at the thought of having to spend another week with the clergy of Argyll (having spent three days at synod last week.) But I must repent of my grumpiness. There is much to be said for clergy being required to spend four days surrounded by beauty (and each other) despite other claims on our time. I suspect there will be more to say about the time on Iona, but for now, a self-indulgent offering of photographs.
First for Sarah — the beach where we played.
Then, for Peter — looking very much at home.
And finally, for +Martin — with thanks for bring me here.