RITES AND RITUALS
Looking out through the study window as I write this, I see that the silent stillness of the evening has become tangled in a soft, steady mesh of rain, the drizzle not enough to count as a noise in itself, but perhaps as a different, slightly louder, form of silence. A hush, perhaps. To be expected. After all, it is still winter, the nights remain long and, as R.S Thomas put it, we continue to find ourselves “Lost in the world’s wood”.
On it falls, as I write up the notes from my earlier session, muttering the words as
