Back to index of vicar's letters - Back to the main index
When Summer Suns are Glowing
One summer, many years ago, I made an Airfix model of a Gloster Gladiator. It was only my second attempt at construction so it took quite a long time. It was not that I was inept or ham-fisted. My parents, never ones to exactly lash out in the finance department, decided that polystyrene cement was out of the question so I had to use a jar of Copydex which was surplus to their requirements. This is excellent stuff for gluing down carpets but it takes an age to dry so every component had to be held in place until it, and my fingers, were stuck. I was not a bit bothered. We were having a caravan holiday at Saltwick Nab and the rain hammered down for most of the week. It was either sit and wait for the glue to dry, or do a jigsaw or read a dusty paperback novel.
After that week of torrential rain, fit for a monsoon, I camped with the Scouts at Masham. The sun was blistering, the heat unbearable. The latrines were of the kind that only Baden-Powell could invent, slit trenches with a tree branch to perch precariously on. They attracted more varieties of flies than I have ever seen before, or since. This is the English summer, bouncing from one extreme to the other, no wonder the public opt for Ibiza.
We can, we are told, expect more extreme weather, seeing that global warming is upon us and the drains are blocked. What has September in store for us now that July has seen floods of biblical proportions? The temporary caravan dwellers of the forgotten city of Hull must be asking that question. The answer, my friends, is Michaelmas.
When the summer storms have abated and the golden glow of autumn is just beginning to dawn the Michaelmas daisies flower, sombre and purple in the sharpening air. They conjour up visions of angels, the S.Michael in his armour, fighting against the forces of evil, his fellow Archangels Gabriel, Raphael and Uriel, leading the heavenly host. Angels are not just illustrations for greetings cards later in the year; they are with us now, and always. Watch out for those invasive pretty little flowers on their long stalks and have some hope
May God bless you all, Fr. Allan
Back to index of vicar's letters - Back to the main index