Beginnings

February begins, and with it another year of my life. I have never made a big issue of my birthday, though it's always nice to have a birthday greeting or two. So today has just been an ordinary day. The past month has been a hard one, and I've rarely known quite as much in the way of coughs, colds and general queasiness as this winter has brought. In addition, I have been rather depressed to have had no response from the church hierarchy since my pleasant and, I thought at the time, constructive meeting with the archdeacon last autumn. The church has every right and some reason to be cautious at best as regards any future use of me as a minister. If there is no way back into priestly ministry then I would do my best to understand and accept this, though it would be hard to square with the strong sense I continue to have of God's claim upon me and his call to me. I would find it tough were I to be treated according to some formula or set of guidelines rather than as myself - it would feel rather untrue to the gospel principles and run counter to the sense I have of Christ's grace at work within me - but I am pledged to obedience and would be bound to keep to that. But not having heard anything . . . surely, at the very least, common courtesy and the duty of one Christian toward another should require that I receive an answer. No more on this for now.

Instead, a look outwards to what has been a sunny scene today for the most part, but very cold, and staying that way for now. The immediate threat of lots of snow seems to have receded, though, and as the evenings start to gradually open out, the trees to the back of us have been quite loud with birdsong. The male blackcap that arrived the day after the Great Garden Birdwatch continues to be a regular visitor, and is a pugnacious little chap, prepared even to chase the dominant local robin away. Today we have had two pairs of bullfinches, briefly; bullfinches pair for life I believe, and the partners in a pair have a strong bond that is revealed when they come to feed together, the male often standing guard while the female visits the feeder.

Snowdrops are brightly out in many places, and we are beginning to see primroses coming into flower in our hedgerows. The mahonia in our front garden, something of a lifeline for any bees stirred into wakefulness on mild winter days, has now all but finished. Not long, though, until the daffodils begin, and then, suddenly, it all starts over again!