Prairie in the park

Another warm day with clouds and sunshine plus the occasional shower. I spent the morning and part of the evening working on the audio file for next week's Morning Prayer and Reflection. Clare went to her study group and I cooked lunch in time for her return. It's a pleasure just to live without the constraint that an open wound imposed on me for so long. It's less of a struggle to get done all the things I set out to do, and for this I am most grateful.

Rain was threatened when I left for my afternoon circuit of the Fields and Bute Park so I wore a raincoat. It didn't rain and I ended up carrying it as I was overheating. Yesterday I got damp from drizzle as I didn't take a raincoat. I can't get it right, but refuse to encumber myself with a brolly just in case. Perverse is the word for it. Because of the abundance of rain earlier in the spring and present warmth the vegetation has grown with abundant luxury. I don't recall seeing bramble bushes before covered with so many flowers for so long, or did I simply not notice. 

An increased area of grassland in the parks, not mown for sports users is rich with wild flowers and long grasses, so we have more than just lawn green in the city landscape; pale gold, yellow, brown. It enhances biodiversity, economises on running costs and carbon footprint. It's an enhancement to our environment which hope will continue and felt to be beneficial to all, people and creatures alike.

Despite the continued rise in delta variant covid cases causing concern to all in the medical profession, the English government is pressing on with easing restrictions and making mask wearing voluntary rather than obligatory, insisting that everyone take personal responsibility for keeping each other safe. Well, we should do that in any case, but if there's no possible sanction other than a disapproving look or comment, some won't bother to think of others and the risk factor is enhanced. 

We're already seeing a third wave of covid infections, not as serious or dangerous as previous ones, but the outcome of the decision are quite unpredictable. It's being seen as an experiment in resuming normality (of a kind), but it's more of a political experiment than a scientific medical one. More of a gamble really and disquiet is being expressed by members of the public who consider themselves vulnerable, as much as medics. Tomorrow the Welsh government will announce its decision about restriction. It'll be more cautious and pay more attention to infection statistics and their impact, thankfully.

Sunny autumn Sunday

I presided and preached the Eucharist at St Catherine's this morning. Now that the Sunday school has re-started after the summer break, congregation numbers are returning to normal, with around thirty communicants, twenty children, and remarkably half a dozen young adults accompanying children who come up for a blessing. How to engage with them further and bring them to confirmation and full church membership is a key pastoral challenge for the parish. I think about this whenever I start preparing a sermon - not that this group hears me preach as they're normally in Sunday school with their offspring.

It was a lovely warm afternoon again when I went for my daily walk. For the most part, trees are still green, though with flecks or patches of golden leaves here and there, and occasionally a species that turn yellow earlier than others. The weather draws out groups of people picknicking, sometimes with games equipment for volleyball or rounders in between bouts of sandwiches and drinks. Saturdays, several cricket matches are played. 

I think the teams playing reflect local Asian language groupings. When passing the children's playground, I hear English and Welsh spoken, but also recently Spanish.  There are at least two young Spanish families in the vicinity of the park. Passing one picnic group, I heard the sound of a single acoustic guitar and a female voice singing a folk song in English. It could have been from a summer in our youth fifty five years ago. 

It's great to see our parks so well used these days. The litter bins fill to overflowing by Saturday, but not emptied until Monday, which is a pity. Most groups in the park tidy up after themselves. What we do suffer from a great deal is casual litter dropped by people passing through, as on the streets, every day, and occasionally, evidence of a small group sitting down with a supermarket pack of drinks, and leaving their litter behind on the spot - glass and plastic bottles, cans, paper and plastic cups, etc. Any day I go walking I expect to collect up to a dozen pieces and take them to the nearest bin. There are a fair number of bins in the parks fifty to a hundred metres apart, but on the streets one can walk three to five hundred metres without finding one. With the passage of time, I'm getting to know where each one is located.