A quiet walk on a quiet morning, the first of September but
it feels as settled as a good summer day. We walked beneath a canopy of trees,
hearing the birdsong trilling above us. Leaves are beginning to fade and change
as summer slips into history. The feather-light down of dying thistles are
highlighted in the sun before a breeze scatters the seeds far and wide.
Turning into our drive, I notice the ageing sign, behind it
rising the historic Hill of Fare, on which a company has designs to plant over
a dozen towering windmills. I’m passionately in favour of green energy, but as
I’ve written before, this proposal, if built, will have no infrastructure to
carry away the energy generated. It’s a whitewash of the government’s green
credentials.
Enough of that rant. It’s too beautiful a morning. I was
just reflecting on the fading beauties all around me.
I lift my eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from?
(not from an out-sized windfarm…) My help is in the name of the Lord, who has
made heaven and earth. And what a glorious world he has given us to steward.
May we each do a better job of it today than we did yesterday.
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