Yesterday on my afternoon walk, I took the west bank path along the Taff from Western Avenue to Blackweir, for the first time in ages. I spotted a Little Egret among the reeds on the east bank. I was sure I'd seen one from the east side path, feeding with other birds a couple of weeks ago, but I must have disturbed it, for it flew off before I could awaken my camera. Despite the distance, I got one sharp shot, pleased at last to see this bird again. Apparently they can be seen up at Radyr Weir, but this far down river they seem to be just occasional visitors.
Kath, Anto and Rhiannon arrived for their holiday in Crete. Rhiannon and I exchanged WhatsApp messages in simple Greek. Just for fun.
Rachel is busy borrowing guitars and planning her song set for her gig at St Canna's Ale House this Friday evening. The house is full of the sound of her playing and singing. It's lovely.
Despite the mix of showers and sun, the builders are forging ahead now with applying new layers of concrete rendering to the back of the house. The new surfaces will need to be painted, in a plain near-white colour afterwards, to reflect extra light into the back garden. It'll cost extra, but it needs to be done while the scaffolding is up. It'll be worth doing, I'm sure.
It's our 53rd wedding anniversary today. Clare wasn't feeling great, so we decided to postpone a festive meal for a while. Disappointed there was no service to go to in the Parish. The importance of this as a major festival was made plain to me when Clare and I went backpacking in Crete, 52 years ago, and attended the Orthodox Liturgy in the village church in Platanos - we experienced Orthodox worship as students in Bristol, but this was really the first experience of a Greek Parish at prayer, and it was such an eye opener. The informality, the relaxed sense of devotion, plus the iconography, the incense and the ritual. It made a lasting heavenly impression on us, and influenced the kind of Anglicans we have grown up to be.
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