Day 7 – We head into the deepening evening, the first hints of dusk chalking the moors pastel. Clothes hang still on the line, waiting for resurrection. In the name of the father and of the sunset and of the the holy workday. A doxology to the farmhand. The sun has knelt onto the cross-stitched Pennines and the clouds and sheep billow and glow on the eastern horizon in remembrance. The Magnificat of Mary and her little lambs. We make our way past the headstones, our footsteps a quiet intercession. At the edge of Hell Hole Rock, the congregation has risen on wing and in voice. Forgive us our trespass. Deliver us from four walls. Forever. Amen. Grasping hands, we draw breath and release our final prayers. Peace goes with us, our evening vespers concluded.
West Yorkshire – Day 7 Our evening vespers concluded.
