Today was one of those days that I think will come to characterize Dunblane in my eyes.
First, a school assembly, mercifully led by our stellar Young Church leader, and then a ‘lesson’ with P3/4 who were full of enthusiasm and excitement when they learned that they would be leading the Harvest assembly for the school and their parents.
Next, a much belated rector’s letter for the magazine, and blessings upon this month’s editor who waiting patiently for me without a hint of criticism or judgement.
By lunch time, I needed to clear my head (after working through much of my day off yesterday), so I went to Bridge of Allan for 45 minutes, to eat and read.
Then, back to church for an Eco-Congregation assessment. This is one of the areas of the church’s life that was ticking over nicely when I arrived, and I haven’t even begun to get involved with it yet, so I learned just as much as the assessors. I find I get more excited about the thought of Rogation Services and bee keeping and maintaining good habitats for wild-life around the church than I do about new taps and the huge task of overhauling the heating system, but it’s good to have people keeping even the tedious bits before our eyes.
I excused myself from the meeting early because I needed to go get props for Sunday’s Harvest service — and bird seed for the wren and thrush who have appeared. That meant my first ever trip to the local Dobbies.
I’ve been to a Dobbies in Edinburgh. I didn’t much enjoy it. But this was glorious. As I wandered round in a daze, one of the school children spotted me and we had a lovely chat about scones and good places to do homework. Then her father came over to introduce himself, and I realised that I really should get out more so that I stumble across people more readily.
I wandered outside, past all the plants to where the cat-tails danced. Proper American-type cat-tails. I love them. I listen to the reeds rustling, watched the fishies, and drifted off towards the maze.
It is not the most beautiful maze ever — made of brutally cut back hedge — but it sits in the midst of wide open fields surrounded by hills, so that at every turn there is something different: sun sheltering in stubbled fields, a combine harvester, a bird of prey soaring, golden light and purple shadows chasing across the hills, the proud assertion of the Wallace Monument. And best of all: once you’re in, you’re stuck — two minutes, five minutes, ten minutes… who knows how long the wandering might last.
After that it was home to phone calls and desk work. Later tonight, I’ll go to talk with the choir about Sunday and next week’s singing workshop.
A good day. Even though there are several hours of work and an impossible list of things left to do, a good day.