Flight Path

I was walking to chapel on Christmas Eve, having left my bike there after the carol service, when I saw a tawny owl sitting on a tree on Howgill Lane. Thinking himself camouflaged, he would have been content to let me pass. But, seeing him, I paused to stare. To this he objected, and took to flight. Curiously, he flew towards me, not away from me, before disappearing into the dusk. Although I was not surprised by his sudden departure, I was by his coming in my direction. Even when retreating, he showed his courage and command of the air.

I sometimes wonder at the state of the church in this benighted land. Instead of resisting the forces of darkness, it bows to them, agrees with them, and absorbs them. If a small minority we are to become, if a despised remnant, then at least let us take the truth to the darkest bastions, and not just keep taking to flight.