Beginning a pause . . .

Home from Sheldon today at the end of a really worthwile week. Our family holiday starts tomorrow, so there will be a break until the middle of August, when I will be journeying more publicly again.

On the wildside . . .

Just to the north of Ivybridge, on the edge of the moor, lies Lukesland Gardens. ( http://www.lukesland.co.uk/index.htm )

This was the venue for a rather strenuous walk. Behind the estate there is a path that leads up onto the moor and a small group of us were able to climb up to a high point which is at one end of a ridge. We then followed the ridge along, passing a couple of other cairns, and eventually wending our way back through the moorland heather and sheep tracks to the moor gate.

Arriving back at Lukesland, we had our lunch followed by a tour around the gardens guided by the owner.

These walks have not been conducted in total silence, and I found the occasional thoughtful conversation very worthwhile.

A Walk and a Hill . . .

The morning dawned fine enough for us to plan a walk or two.

The morning was a walk in Stover Country Park, which included part of the Ted Hughes Poetry Trail ( http://tinyurl.com/qrebrq ). We did branch out a bit to include some mileage outside the park, but the whole experience was delightful.

After lunch we motored up onto the edge of Dartmoor at Haytor Vale, and took the opportunity to climb the tor there. Quite an impressive piece of granite and extremely windy towards the top. The youngsters clambering over it seemed to know no fear, and the adults looking after them seemed not to care!

Stones . . .

The weather forecast is, to say the least, mixed, for the next few days, and walking on the wilds of Dartmoor seems distinctly unlikely to be achievable with any degree of safety.

So today's walk in the rain was around the 49 or so acres of the Sheldon site - following a plan that had the walker stopping at 15 different spots to pray and reflect upon the view and God's ongoing re-creation of it.

The most memorable of these for me was the Sheldon Open Air Theatre. Here walkers are invited to think of their lives being played out on a stage, and to reflect upon what an audience would have seen if they had been sitting watching them.

Standing under the stage canopy with heavy rain pattering down, I found myself remembering minute details and people long-forgotten, and allowing them to play through my memory again. The happinesses and sadnesses were all there; the joys and the disappointments in their measure were there; and there was a deep sense of peace and safety in allowing this to happen in such a place.

We had started the day with this powerful prayer:-

My Lord God,

I have no idea where I am going.

I do not see the road ahead of me.

I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself;

and the fact that I think I am following your will

does not mean that I am actually doing so.

But I believe that the desire to please you

does in fact please you.

And I hope that I will never do anything

apart from that desire.

And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road

though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore will I trust you always

though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.

I will not fear, for you are ever with me,

and will never leave me to face my perils alone.

and all that followed in my Prayer Walk seemed to echo different nuances from the prayer.

Thanks be to God.

Rambling with God . . .

The week since I got home from the boat journey was filled with a whole mixture of tidbits that are too varied to explain.

But now I have arrived at Sheldon for a week's worth of walking on Dartmoor.

For those of you who have never come across this community I cannot praise it highly enough.

http://www.sheldon.uk.com/

Its varied ministry is extremely well thought of, and I have been here several times.

The last lap . . .

I left Cross Green at sometime after 6.30am, with the intention of getting to Compton for a pump-out at Limekiln Chandlers by the time they opened at 9.00am. I was a wee bit early, but was moored alongside by the time they were up and running. With the deed done, and a bit of chat, I was on my way again by 9.40am.

The run down through this last section of the route was quite uneventful. I ended up following some folk who had never had a narrowboat before, and this was their first experience of locking. Great fun!

I passed ETII as they were about to make off for a meal rendezvous at the Round Oak, and they followed me all the way to The Bratch where, because they were running late, I let them in first.

So. by the time all this was done, I arrived at Chyandour's home mooring just after 1.00pm, and Joan was ready to haul on a rope to pull me into the mud!

I then had a few hours to tidy up and clean the boat, before Gwyn came to pick me up at about 4.30pm.

Altogether a very pleasing and varied trip.

Sabbath rest . . .

I had a lie in this morning because I was planning to worship at the Anglican Church in Penkridge but, before going to church, I moved Chyandour up through Penkridge Lock - one fewer to do after church - so that I could be on my way in good time.

As it turned out, the service was longer than I anticipated, and I did not get away until nearly 12.30pm.

The plan was to get to a delightful canal-side pub at Cross Green, that serves up really good food. That was achieved by 5.30pm and I did indeed enjoy the food.

All things bright and beautiful . . .

At the end of yesterday's jollifications Gwyneth brought me back to Chyandour as she has early commitments today and I want to get to Penkridge for tonight if at all possible. As it turned out I slept on a bit longer than usual and did not get away from the mooring until just after 7.00am. It did turn out to be good timing because, having made the turn at Great Haywood onto the Staffordshire & Worcestershire Canal, I was able to take on some diesel fuel at the Anglo-Welsh Boatyard before they had to deal with their hire boat changeover day.

The Staffs & Worcs Canal is one of the prettier canals and, before very long I was passing Tixall Wide. This amazing section resembles a lake more than a canal and is renowned for its population of Kingfishers, although I did not spot any today.

One other "feature" of this canal is that, where it is bordered by woodland on both sides, it tends to be rather shallow and it is easy to get mud-bound, especially if, like Chyandour, your boat sits low in the water. I managed to avoid getting seriously stuck, but I was able to help a Viking Afloat boat that was rather immovable, by towing it backwards off the mud shelf on which it had stuck fast.

Canal boating is recognised by many as a contact sport!

The weather remained reasonably clement, and I moored up on the outskirts of Penkridge at about 1.00pm. That turned out well because, by late afternoon and into the night, the rain came down with a vengeance, and I was glad to be inside.

What a day . . .

'Tis done. They are wed. Oh what a difference it makes when two people, who love the Lord and are beloved of the Lord, plan to surround their special day with worship that comes from the very essence of their being.

For Mel and Glenise it has been somewhat of a whirlwind romance, and a revelation that God still has plans up his copious sleeve for all who place their trust wholly in him.

For those of us privileged to share this part of their journey it has been delightful, and I am left remembering that "God has not finished with me yet" is a vital attitude to have for those who follow him.

More of the same . . .

The last few days have been remarkable in that they have been unremarkable! It set me thinking again about our life's journey with God. There are highs and lows, and times when we are more aware of his guidance and holy presence, and there are times when we just seem to get on with whatever comes along with little or no conscious reference to God at all. Since leaving Shardlow on Tuesday morning I have spent the afternoon and night first at Willington and then at Alrewas, and I have met a variety of folk along the way. I spent a bit of time helping folk lock up at Alrewas, just as I did previously at Foxton, but it has all been much of the same.

Today will be different because I am planning to get somewhere near to Great Haywood (Shugborough Hall) so that Gwyneth can collect me when she finishes school. Tomorrow the parishes are celebrating a special wedding of two of our members and, sabbatical or no sabbatical, I am booked to officiate at the service.

Into the unknown . . .

The weather was forecast to be very changeable today, and I was due to move on to some of the wider river stretches of the route. But, before reaching that part I boated through Loughborough early in the morning. One thing that was very noticeable was the great variety of canal-side properties ranging from small bungalows and terraced houses / cottages to much larger houses with wide long gardens and manicured lawns reaching down to the water. The weather actually stayed dry until I reached Kegworth Deep Lock. It was fine when I went into the lock, and fine as I let the water out but, when the boat was 10 feet down in the chamber, there was an horrendous cloudburst which soaked me and all the open maps on the roof of the boat. Such is boating!

The wider sections of the River Soar and the River Trent are quite spectacular, and Sawley Locks are an eye-opener. I am not sure whether I would be quite so enthusiastic in flood conditions. In the floods of 2000 the flood level marker is one third of the way up the wall of the Lock Office.

The second picture is Sawley Flood Lock in the opposite direction and shows the river in such conditions. Scary!

I eventually decided that I was wet enough for the day and moored up about 12.40pm at Shardlow.

Musical Postlude . . .

Gwyn had to get back to Netherton by mid-morning, so we went for an early morning walk around Mountsorrel before she left at 9.00am and I went up to St. Peter's Church for BCP Mattins.

I have not been to such a service for more years than I care to remember, although BCP Evensong is still very much a part of my regular worship pattern. It was a fully sung service with 5 hymns, psalm and canticles, and it was a real blessing to me. There were about 20 folk there altogether including the choir of 3 men and 3 women.

After lunch I decided to move on a bit from Mountsorrel towards Loughborough, so that is what I did. There were a lot of boats about with folk enjoying the hot sunshine.

There were some folk who were also enjoying a surfeit of alcohol in their system which caused somewhat erratic behaviour when steering a boat or when swimming in the canal.

Musical Interlude . . .

Gwyn arrived safely about 9.30pm last evening and at just after 9.00am this morning we set off by road for Wye, a village near Canterbury in Kent.

I had to be there for 2.00pm for rehearsals before the NEO presentation of one of its "Canterbury Vigils" at the church there. (See http://tinyurl.com/m8uqgo for a review of the series.)

The journey was OK, if somewhat marred by a 5 mile queue on the M25 for the Dartford Crossing, but we were still in good time.

The event itself was greatly blessed and, although the church was not jam-packed, it felt very worthwhile and part of God's economy that we undertook it.

After an uneventful drive back, we got to Chyandour at Mountsorrel at 1.15am.

Less is more . . .

Only a short trip today, as I move on the four miles from Syston to Mountsorrel to await Gwyn's arrival tonight. The weather was still fine early this morning so I left at 6.40am and, after a stop to take on water at Sileby Lock, arrived to moor at Mountsorrel at 9.40am.

Part of the waterway today is quite wide, and with no towpath. It has quite a different feel to it and, in some ways, is somewhat threatening; there is no recognisable bank to which one could turn to find safe haven and, even if there was, the edges are so shallow that Chyandour would not get within several feet of them anyway!

It set me thinking again about the things that seem to threaten us as we travel through our life. Like the river this morning, the threats can be on the edge of the path we travel, just where we might expect to find a place of safety. But Jesus did not promise to be with us for only part of the journey, or only in the middle of the stream, but everywhere and everywhen. So, even if the places of safety seem out of reach, the reality is that they are not.

Contrasts . . .

After yesterday's quiet day, which was a real scorcher, the weather forecast for today is that it will continue to be very hot. So, in order to minimise the amount of time that I would have to be out in it, I made an early and cool start at about 5.10am.

The first contrast was that of moving away from a centre of population with its attendant traffic noise, both road and rail, and into the countryside where you can hear a whole variety of birds strutting their stuff in the early morning music

show.

The second contrast has to do with the water I am travelling on.

After Kilby Lock the canal teams up with the river for various sections, separating and rejoining at a number of locks and weirs, some of which are quite spectacular and, as in this case, totally unprotected. Boats definitely have to keep clear. In the river sections the water is almost totally clear to the bottom - in the canalised sections, especially through Leicester - well, murky would be kind!

The third contrast is a revisit of yesterday's. I met up with another hire boat, this time from "Rose Narrowboats", crewed by three folk from Denmark who come to the UK almost every year for a holiday on part of the canal system. We locked down together into Leicester where they were planning to stop for "the shopping"!

It was getting really hot by lunchtime so I decided to moor up at Syston by the Hope & Anchor bridge and stay there for the night.