Marker

On this vigil of Pentecost evening, after a simple eucharist (begun with lucinaria), with three other people, singing a capela the Veni Sancte Spiritus (502), Bridegroom (Like the murmur of the dove's song, 513), and the Eighth Tune, Tallis' canon (43), I come back to the house to work on the sermon... and mark another year quietly. This is the only time in my life that I have a birthday coincide with the night before Pentecost so I decided to have a eucharist to mark the event. Moreover, the local university has graduation tomorrow morning and I knew some professors would want to come to church. They did.


Compa and I observed my natal day last night with a good dinner, nice bottle of wine from Navarra and daffodils I picked from the yard (in a wonderful vase done by a Vermont potter).

This morning I had to go to the diocesan council meeting, which makes for a lot of driving around Vermont in circles (I heard somewhere that Vermonters drive more than any other state in the country, not a distinction I want, and I find that hard to believe).


En route, just a mile down the road from our house is this old farm. It is tucked into the notch and has an intimate vista of slightly rolling hills even though it is within the Vermont Greens and about six miles from Killington. This time of year, as spring is finally arriving, provides the most amazing gradations of colour in greens, pinks and greys. I don't know how well the vibrant greens will transmit in this photo but driving around Vermont the second week in May is always a pleasure.

So I have another year. I am pensive, partly because with each advancing year on my end, it is an advancing year with my parents. I am thankful for their continued health and presence in my life. Each day is precious.

And I am pensive for all the heavy prayers out there... for people who may not make it as far along as I have thus far.

¡Adelante!