Imbolc

So a mixed start to the season of Imbolc (note - red hi-viz from now till Vernal Equinox).
Sometimes I wonder if we miss the obvious in worship. Take this morning. As we wandered out from the Great House to the Moot House, the pale pink moon, resolutely gibbous,was sinking away into the West over Woburn. While behind us, a red sun warmed our backs even on this frozen day, and made the grass - still vibrantly green beneath its frosty sheen - steam in our path. Truly a spiritual moment to savour.
And then we entered the Moot House, got through the first two verses of "When I feel quite touched" and Stacey, whose role it was to lead this morning, shouted "OK - let 'em in".
Now, maybe I'm just a bit fussy. I don't know. But driving a herd of sheep through the middle of an act of worship just feels wrong. The sheepdog didn't help either. Being trained to round up slow-thinking, wooly creatures he had six Beaker People in one corner for the entire Ceremony. Quite an achievement in a round building. The good news is that two of the sheep have joined the Beaker Course and are showing greater aptitude than the people they've replaced. And the shepherd tells me we can have our people back, just as soon as he can get them in off the fields. Apparently they're that breed of Beaker Folk that can get very attached to their patch of land.
Now can you all get back to the Moot House with buckets and shovels? We've some cleaning to do.