Be praised, my Lord, by Brother Rake

Well, I've been a little cranky for the last few days, perhaps because my only source of Vitamins recently has been Lemon Curd.  I went to Scotland for a friend's wedding and had an amazing time (even if I do feel my Bridget Jones years have begun) and came back to 'sunny' Dorset where it POURED.  Actually, it alternated between pouring with rain and being vile and grey.


So I wasn't in the mood when the weather finally turned for leaf-sweeping, to be honest.  There is a lot of leaf-sweeping to be done here.

 

 

And so as I went about beating the leaves into submission, I let half of a glorious autumn day go by without appreciating any of it.  But just before midday I started to hum the tune for St Francis' Canticle of the Creatures.  

It is a song about the wonder of all creation reflecting and serving the glory of God.  And as so often happens, my eyes were suddenly opened and I found the scenery so beautiful I just had to get my camera.

Most High, omnipotent, good Lord,

To you be ceaseless praise outpoured,

And blessing without measure;

From you alone all creatures came;

No one is worthy you to name.

My Lord, be praised by Brother Sun,

Who through the skies his course does run,

And shines in brilliant splendour;

With brightness he does fill the day,

And signifies your boundless sway.

My Lord, be praised by Sister Moon,

And all the stars that with her soon

Will point the glitt'ring heavens.

Let wind and air and cloud and calm,

And weathers all, repeat the psalm.

By Sister Water, then be blest

Most humble, useful, precious, chaste.

Be praised by Brother Fire:

Cheerful is he, robust and bright,

And strong to lighten all the night.

 Be praised, my Lord, by Brother Electricity.

The fire has changed - we take it for granted just the same.

By Mother Earth my Lord be praised;

Governed by you, she has upraised

What for our life is needful.

Sustained by you through every hour,

She brings for fruit and herb and flower.

My Lord be praised by those who prove

In free forgivingness their love,

Nor shrink from tribulation.

Happy, who peaceably endure:

With you, Lord, their reward is sure.

By Death, our Sister, praised be,

From whom no one alive can flee.

Woe to the unprepared!

But blest be those who do your will

And follow your commandments still.

The gardens getting a good dose of Sister Death before new life can grow

Most High, omnipotent, good Lord,

To you be ceaseless praise outpoured

And blessing without measure.

Let every creature thankful be

And serve in great humility.

Peace and goodwill from Hilfield.