I always plan these great theological treatises to post here: great discussions of the faults of the church, or of our entire world order. Then I get distracted by the simplest of things. A few days ago I was watching two collar doves flirting. It was the funniest and most beautiful thing I’d seen in ages. The two of them were sitting on the garden fence a couple of meters apart. One would sidle up to the other and start pushing her: just gentle nudges at first, then head butting her under the chin (if birds have chins). When I left the window they were flapping about, jumping over and on top of each other. I thought they’d like the privacy.

This afternoon I took a walk down to Knole, wanting to appreciate the green in Sevenoaks before I leave it all behind again. Half way up Blackhall Lane I met a blackbird foraging in the leaves on the grassy roadside bank. Sticking his head under the leaves, picking a few up, throwing them about then moving on; there didn’t seem much method to his search. We continued walking up the hill together. He never came closer to me than about a meter, and I never tried to make him. We parted company by the turning for the park. I was going in, hoping to get a good view of the sunset. He was going back down the hill.

As it turned out the sunset was obscured by clouds.

“Have you ever given orders to the morning,

or shown the dawn its place,

that it might take the earth by the edges

and shake the wicked out of it?”

Job 38 (NIV)