I happened to look back over pictures from Christmas 2019, and it seems like a lifetime ago.
No pandemic, coronavirus, self-isolation, lateral flow tests, PCR tests or travel restrictions. I had previously only worn a facemask in a laboratory.
Delta was a synonym for a river estuary, and omicron was another letter from the Greek alphabet, and one that hardly anybody had ever heard of. The Christmas tree in this picture dates back to 2019, and it's up and glistening again.
The world seems to have grown more dull, grey and hard, if only because some people that were close to me have passed on.
I was watching the start of the Watchnight service from the church in Holland I would go to at this time of year in the past. It was a sad echo from the past, with only the elder, the vicar and the cantor in evidence, as was the organist playing along the hymns and psalms. Although it celebrates the birth of Christ, the atmosphere was a distant reflection of one of joy.
Nonetheless, from Stornoway:
Nollaig Chridheil.
Merry Christmas
No comments:
Post a Comment