Hail and wintry winds blow across the open moorland. Between the heavy dark clouds, shafts of sunlight cut through the air and causing the slithers of quartz in the rough granite to glisten. The darkening skies are hostile and threatening until a rainbow arcs the gloom.
This cycle continues - dark to light - light to dark. Underneath these changing skies, life on the moor continues as resilient as ever.
The farms nestle in valleys away from the exposed moorlands.
The sheep continue with their grazing uninterrupted.And camouflaged amongst the tan and grizzled grasses, the fox hounds run to and fro, seeking the earlier laid trail.
Reminiscent, perhaps, of a George Stubbs painting.
What will 2012 hold for The Curate and I? Will it be more of the same or changing horizons? By the summer, The curate will have finished year 6 of training and he will be beginning to think about applying for jobs in year 7. We have already been discussing this next move and it unsettles me although I know that the next move should be easier. We do not have a ' wish list' and so remain open to go where ever God calls us. (But having no well planned route seems a little scary to me right at this moment.)