Looking over a Winter hedge in Spring, the field prepared for seed freighted with fruitfulness for an Autumn harvest, and in the middle distance Loch Skene reflecting a slate grey sky now empty of the geese who come to keep us company every year, and in the distance the sculpted and layered horizons of hills at the edge of the Highlands. And all of this, a mile from the door.
Hills of the North, rejoice,
river and mountain-spring,
hark to the advent voice;
valley and lowland, sing.
Christ comes in righteousness and love,
he brings salvation from above.
Leave a Reply