Good Friday musings from a Ladock garden





It is Good Friday.  The sun is shining and it is hot out on the terrace.  For once the gentle breeze is welcome.  This is like no other Good Friday I have ever known.  On the T V I have just seen scenes of mass burials in New York.  This is a day when we think of death and burials but we already know that on Sunday we will celebrate the resurrection of our Lord Jesus.  But still the human part of us cries bitter tears in the face of this wretched virus.


The warmth is good – it makes me feel alive and dries the tears.


The birdsong seems louder this year – probably due to lack of traffic noise.  Unusually, for these days, I can see a vapour trail across the otherwise flawless blue sky but there is no sound from the plane as it crawls from goodness knows where to goodness knows where.  I wonder who is in it.  I expect they are desperate people trying to get home to their loved ones.  I pray they will keep safe.


Now I can hear one of those dear girls across the way practising her cello – or is it the violin – it is hard to hear clearly for the bird’s song.  What a wonderful duet – and yet neither of them is aware of the other.


Last night we all did our “Clap for our Carers”.  I was so pleased that Nick and Claire were there – representing the NHS and Treliske.  The children all around the country have been painting rainbows as their expression of thanks to our carers.  It is an appropriate symbol: God’s promise to us all.


I have planted a hazel nut sprouting out a new shoot, which I found while weeding.  It is my personal symbol of hope for the future.



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