Let it be.....

 Just a closer walk with thee.....

It's neither spring, nor summer, and I have been laid up, but thankfully the storm has passed, and I take myself to Ken Hill.  These woods, near my house, are where I used to walk with Amanda, almost every Sunday, through all the seasons, until she could go no more.  A squirrel watches me from a mighty oak, and I am reminded that, for reasons now lost, my pet name for Amanda was Squirrel.....

Just a closer walk with Thee,

Grant it, Jesus, is my plea,

Daily walking close to Thee,

Let it be, dear Lord, let it be.

No, I haven't got religion, but Amanda did, and sometimes I wish I could believe......

Perhaps it's enough that I have the world of nature around me.  A beautiful mesh of cool green beech leaves above me, a pyramid of beautiful, though invasive, Rhododendron over there:

Each flower a marvel of design and colour:

The Foxgloves display with the same palette in the shadows:

Attracting busy bees to their hidden stores of nectar:

Or radiating glory when struck by patchy sunlight filtering through the trees:

Amanda walks with me in my heart, chuckling with delight at the Yellow Azalea (Rhododendron luteum):

I sniff the wild Honeysuckle, smiling at my memories:

And admire the glowing Elderflowers, thinking she might like some cordial:

Through this world of toil and snares,

If I falter, Lord, who cares?

Who with me my burden shares?

None but Thee, dear Lord, none but Thee.

Then I pick up a high-pitched piping call, like a dentist's ultrasonic scaler, and search the trunks around me, eventually picking out a tiny Treecreeper scuttling up the bark:

There aren't many birds around, or so it seems.  The wind is strong, whooshing through the leaves and branches, and birdsong is something of a rarity now.  Pigeons thrash away through the trees when disturbed.  Jackdaws call to each other above their nesting sites:

A parent Robin threatens me as I photograph one of its young:

I hear the shrill trilling of Wrens in the undergrowth, but often they are quick to take cover when I approach, though I catch this little one waiting for food:

High in the crowns I can just make out Blue Tits picking up caterpillars, but they are too far above me to picture.  An incautious Jay, however, obligingly perches with his lunch on a branch within sight:

I walk along the path by the line of beeches:

I am weak, but Thou art strong;

Jesus, keep me from all wrong;

I’ll be satisfied as long

As I walk, let me walk close to Thee.

And then follow the hill to the carved seat where Amanda used to love to sit looking out through the trees towards the Wash. The dappling sunlight plays tricks with my vision and for a moment I can imagine her there,  an evanescent angel....

On my way home, a flurry of feathers lies across the mud on the track and I see the crimson breast of a freshly killed Pigeon, the hapless prey of a Sparrow Hawk, perhaps, a reminder that all life comes to an end, one way or another [without death there is no life.....]:

When my feeble life is o’er,

Time for me will be no more;

Guide me gently, safely o’er

To Thy kingdom shore, to Thy shore.

Just a closer walk with Thee,

Grant it, Jesus, is my plea,

Daily walking close to Thee,

Let it be, dear Lord, let it be.

Evanescent Angel:

Thank you for walking with me today......

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Listen to Patsy Cline and Willie Nelson:

https://youtu.be/OOKaircCiGI?list=RDOOKaircCiGI

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