There was a surprisingly amount of howling happening in the sleepy hamlet of Week, Dartington last night… and while some was certainly coming from the Vicarage garden, we were not alone in noisily celebrating last night’s especially magnificent and misty full moon.

Vicarage Japonica

I saw the moon rise as I was driving home, with a slight case of soul indigestion following a day spent sitting ‘at the feet’ of the ever characterful Robin Williamson (of Incredible String Band fame) and listening to all four branches of the Mabinogion…phew! The moon was coming up as I crested the hill above Buckfast Abbey and the combination of the deep blue twilight with the orange glow of both the huge full moon and the floodlit spire of the ruined Buckfastleigh Church was mysterious and moving.

I woke to this Equinoctial second Sunday of Lent feeling very grateful to be alive. A sentiment that I know is shared by many of us as we contemplate the losses and sufferings of people in Japan and New Zealand. Living and dying seems so incomprehensible and I think in this age of information and global awareness, we suffer a kind of collective guilt to be waking up safely in bed and not be floating out to sea on the ruined roof of our home. These are extraordinary times…

It seems strange somehow to be be focussed on the fact that the japonica is now enjoying flowery pride of place in the Vicarage garden…or spending the morning stalking Fred our resident pheasant with my camera. (Not helped by our long haired tabby, Serenity, who was also stalking him but with rather different intentions!) But I’ve read how when people are suffering in prison camps and suchlike, it’s the small things that they focus on and that give them hope.

Fred the pheasant who lives here in the Vicarage garden with his rather reluctant harem of seven Frederikas
Our very own soft and furry killer…

In the warm and sunny afternoon, Ian and I walked down to the River Dart. The wild geese and goosanders were flying low over the shining water. I felt held in a quiet calm that mostly I experience in meditation, but is simply present in the natural world. I was watching the way the light patterns from the wind stirred water surface moved over the dark mud of the river bottom and how the impossibly green water weed was swirling sensually in hidden currents. On this day of equal light and dark, the world seemed full of contrasts, whether this be Japan and Devon, pale wood anemone against deep water or the half bright, half shadowed face of Serenity hunting. If you are reading this, I wish you may be blessed in your own balancing of impossible contradictions and darkbright Mystery moments…