vinculafido

  In a ‘can I be bothered?’ moment I make a mistake, and eschew boots in favour of Merrills.   It’s surprising (duh!) how wet even very gentle rain makes a grass field, and although the finger post away from the lane near Lyndon church suggests a bridleway, there’s no discernible track until the gate where the path enters Lyndon Wood.   By then my feet are very soggy. At the top of the wood I come to the road which skirts the south side of Rutland Water, and have to walk its tarmac for a few hundred metres (no roadside path).   Drivers find the curves here very tempting as they display their inner Lewis Hamilton to partners and mates.   When the view opens up, just before a new track drops down to the reservoir’s perimeter path, the foot-sogginess is worth it. The scene today is absolutely autumn-tranquil. There’s not a breath of air to encourage the sailors. The only boats on a silver misty lake are occupied by meditating fisher-folk, perhaps catching something, perhaps not.   As

  I’m on my way to Lincoln, but the walks to the Rutland border – and therefore the border between the Peterborough and Lincoln dioceses – are the hors ‘d’oeuvres before the main course. Long time readers/followers will know that apart from self-indulgence and the sheer joy/relief of still being able to put one foot in front of another, my walks are also symbolic. I’m arguing that all of us within the Church of England should pull together, putting aside theological and cultural differences in the cause of maintaining our branch of the Christian faith into the unknown future. We are 1). better together 2). better in colour and 3). better than we think we are.   There’s more to celebrate together than divides us; we are admirably and wonderfully diverse, and Christians, including Anglican Christians are a fantastic glue in our fragmenting society. So much for the manifesto. I hope you’re still with me… A glassy sea...our own little Galilee I’m late setting out from my Morcott home