In the morning the snow had gone. I went for a walk. I’ve been cooped up with Christmas work. I walked from my door, onto the canal, over Primrose Hill, and then on the paths to Hopwood.
It was cold. All around me seemed outline.
Underfoot was wet. It was frozen on the tops.
I tramped quickly, keeping warm, walking off all the food, pacing out tomorrow’s sermon – thoughts of Peshawar and Holy Innocents, trying to avoid the easy answers or benefiting from other’s suffering.
In this end of year light, the sky, my walking, the water, earth, my pondering, all seemed to merge.
Perhaps the winter hill gave some direction.
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