Coda

Coda: our last piece on this blog, our last day on the island. It began as a mournful coda as we heard winds moan as they coursed over the North sea. Sometimes they sounded like wolves howling in the distance, or women as they came to gather their dead and dying, maybe even of God calling. Calling again to witness the centuries of people struggling yesterday, today, and tomorrow.



We had trekked out to St Cuthbert's island, a holy place, when the tides were low. We sat, each in our own space.



This does feel like Holy Ground, the ruins, the priory, the felt sense of time giving and taking away.



Even the secular totems are so dramatic they inspire something of the aching fortress that is the human condition.







And then you hear children laughing, you hear mother and lamb call to one another and rush to meet for a quick feed, and it's life. And then our afternoon closes over with another more meditative time, time with the Lamb at St. Mary's The Virgin.



What a gift this trip has been.

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Location:Lindesfarne