Welcome to my Perching Post.

Death of a much loved Monarch

Every life pilgrimage includes times of loss and grief. Following the death of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II the United Kingdom, Commonwealth and many other parts of the world enter a period of mourning and sorrow. It is also a time of thankfulness for all that our much-loved monarch gave and represented: a lifetime of service, deeply rooted in faith.

One of the Gates at Buckingham Palace, London

The poem ‘Gate of the Year’ by Minnie Louise Haskins, quoted by King George VI in his 1939 war time Christmas broadcast to the British Empire, and often read at funerals, speaks to many at times of grief, loss and difficulty:

 And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year:
“Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.”
And he replied:
“Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God.
That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.”
So I went forth, and finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night.
And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone East.

As Her Majesty travels to her final resting place, words of Thomas Campion speak of the finding of peace and sanctuary in a quiet haven after a long journey on the tempestuous seas of life.

Never weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore,
Never tired pilgrim’s limbs affected slumber more,
Then my weary spright now longs to fly out of my troubled breast.
O come quickly, sweetest Lord, and take my soul to rest.

Ever-blooming are the joys of Heaven’s high paradise,
Cold age deafs not there our ears, nor vapour dims our eyes;
Glory there the Sun outshines, whose beams the blessed only see:
O come quickly, glorious Lord, and raise my spright to thee.

Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

1926 – 2022

Let’s go fly a kite…

One of the joys of summer holidays is being able to take time out and just wander without a specific goal or destination in mind. Walking along a sea shore, sand between the toes, wind in the hair, the cry of the seabirds and the susurration of sea waves gently curling on the beach. Lines from AA Milne’s poem Spring Morning come to mind:

Where am I going? I don’t quite know…

If you were a bird, and lived on high,
You’d lean on the wind when the wind came by,
You’d say to the wind when it took you away:
“That’s where I wanted to go today!”

A playful wind and an expanse of open beach create the perfect environment for the fun of flying a kite – something that has been enjoyed for hundreds of years. It’s unclear who invented the first kite but it is believed that the earliest kites, made of leaves and reeds, were used to aid fishing. An early written account of kite flying comes from China in 200BC when a general of the Han dynasty used a kite to fly over the walls of a city he was attacking to measure just how far his army would have to tunnel under the city walls to achieve domination.

Kites flying over the beach — Colourful kites dance in the breeze

Since then, kites have evolved and been used for many different purposes. As playthings for children they provided hours of amusement but gradually it was realised by scientists that they could be used for studying the atmosphere and understanding more about the weather.

Child plays with kite on the beach — A child has fun with a kite

Kite flying also helped with the development of early aircraft and they were used militarily in observation and aircraft recognition exercises. Modern hang-gliders and sports parachutes have their origins in early kites and today kite-surfing has become an extreme sport in which kite riders combine kite flying and surfing to perform breath-taking acrobatics.

A kite acrobat rides the sea — Kite riding with the birds

But you can keep it simple too – there’s still so much fun to be had with your feet on the ground and a simple colourful kite. As the children in the film ‘Mary Poppins’ found:

‘With tuppence for paper and strings
You can have your own set of wings
With your feet on the ground
You're a bird in a flight
With your fist holding tight
To the string of your kite.’

Child launches kite for the first time — The excitement of that first launch…

Mindfulness in a Shell: What will you find?

There’s something pleasingly childlike – simple, absorbing and entrancing about wandering along a beach, discovering treasures washed up by the sea – bits of wood, pebbles of kaleidoscopic hues – and shells, shells and more shells.

Who can resist filling their pockets with these fascinating curios: homes to tiny sea creatures long gone. What stories might they tell? Find a large shell and hold it to your ear – do you hear the sea, shushing on a shore far away?

A large shell brings a whisper from the sea…

There is a beach way up north from here where many an hour has been spent in blissful exploration. One of the king finds is the tiny delicate Monetaria moneta, or money cowry. Usually tricky to spot, once you get your eye in they can be found in pools, in nooks or just washed up in the sand.

Tantalising beaches can hide all sorts of delights just waiting to be uncovered

Historically these curiously shaped shells were widely used in Pacific and Indian ocean lands as shell money before the introduction of hard cash (and way before contactless payment!)

The shells are the abandoned homes of small sea snails, a marine gastropod mollusc. Also known as Groatie Buckie shells in Caithness they are considered to bring good fortune to the finder. Children love seeking them out – and for adults, too, the simple pastime of shell seeking is mindfulness perfection in a shell. Just tune in to the sounds around you – the gentle swish of waves on the beach, the crying of seabirds; the smooth feel of pebbles, stones and shells. Feel your cares drift away and your mind float in peaceful rhythm with the surf. An hour will feel like five minutes and you’ll come away refreshed and relaxed.

The American poet, Amy Lowell (1874-1925) wrote the following poem, Sea Shell:

           Sea Shell, Sea Shell,
           Sing me a song, O Please!
           A song of ships, and sailor men,
           And parrots, and tropical trees,

          Of islands lost in the Spanish Main
          Which no man ever may find again,
          Of fishes and corals under the waves,
          And seahorses stabled in great green caves.

          Sea Shell, Sea Shell,
          Sing of the things you know so well.