Another week passes and with it goes Easter 2020. Life continues but without hot cross buns or Easter eggs. Did you have either this year?  I was lucky; I had both. And if we'd had our usual breakfast together this month, I might have painted the boiled eggs with a text, a cross or a flower from Joseph's garden. That was part of an earlier du Plessis Easter tradition. It didn’t happen this year. We continue to live with the implications of the virus, globally, nationally, personally and even denominationally. We continue to ask whether this is an opportunity for change, or do we just ask for things to go back to how they were. 

 

Our connections with the Indian subcontinent introduced me to the writer Arundhati Roy. I was intrigued by his novel The God of Small Things, some years ago. It highlighted the plight of the Dalit community in a country living with caste.  Small things and small people are important too. Last week he wrote an article for the FT. The pandemic is a portal: It gives his perspective on covid-19.  It's a longish read, but well worth it in my judgement, even if the focus is on his own country - India.

But speaking of small things, when my (recently acquired) son-in-law asked me what I was learning from the present challenges I paused to think. My default position is usually to go for the big picture. But not this time. I'm focussing much more on the details these days. I chose rather to highlight the simple joys of small things. And these are condensed into an even smaller space than I was used to. I could mention many, but will focus again on the garden. And especially the bird feeder, as tits and dunnocks vie for the sunflower hearts, and how the carrion crows with their short trousers waddle from side to side, a couple seemingly committed to each other, give way one to the other (that's usually the female to the male, of course!) And I think I can now distinguish a crow from a jackdaw, from a rook. And I recognise the tapping on the tree trunk and laugh of the green woodpecker. She's a happy soul. We think this one’s a female sparrow. Two for two farthings? Yes, I’m old enough to have had to add them up in school arithmetic. 

Behold the birds of the air! We do. (And consider the lilies of the field.)

On the other hand the god of small things must surely know about this tiny accumulation of molecules that is wreaking so much havoc. Oh, for goodness sake, why doesn't he do something about it! Perhaps your own reflection this Easter will have given you the answer. If so, please do let me know. 

I'll keep looking for the small joys of life and wish you well, whatever your plans for the coming week. 

And by the way, you may regard your own friendship and care as something insignificant. It's not. I value it immensely, as I do that of family and other friends. We may not be celebrities, and may even feel we who are older and ‘very vulnerable’ belong to a relegated category. We are not. We are important too. 
 

Finally - you don’t need to be up that early for a monthly breakfast these days, but a few minutes listening to the dawn chorus is an enchanting experience. 

And speaking of a chorus, do you know the one that goes: I'd rather be a little thing climbing up...? If so, you'll know where the title of today's blog originated.

 

April 2020