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The Sky Is Falling

a Bulrovian fairy tale

adapted by Rick Walton

Once upon a time there was a tiny, tiny chicken named Chicken Little. One day Chicken Little was scratching in the garden when something fell on her head.

“Oh,” cried Chicken Little, “the sky is falling. I must go tell the king.”

So Chicken Little ran and ran, and she met Henny Penny.

“Where do you travel so fast, Chicken Little?” asked Henny Penny.

“Ah, Henny Penny,” said Chicken Little, “the sky is falling, and I must go and tell the king.”

“How do you know that the sky is falling, Chicken Little?” asked Henny Penny.

“I saw it with my eyes, I heard it with my ears, and a bit of it fell on my head,” said Chicken Little.

“I will go with you to the king,” said Henny Penny.

So they ran along together, and they met Ducky Daddles.

“Where do you travel so fast?” asked Ducky Daddles.

“Ah, Ducky Daddles,” said Chicken Little, “the sky is falling, and Henny Penny and I go to tell the king.”

“How do you know that the sky is falling, Chicken Little?” asked Ducky Daddles.

“I saw it with my eyes, I heard it with my ears, and a bit of it fell on my head,” said Chicken Little.

“I will go with you to the king,” said Ducky Daddles.

So they ran along together, and they met Goosey Loosey.

“Where do you travel so fast, Chicken Little?” asked Goosey Loosey.

“Ah, Goosey Loosey,” said Chicken Little, “the sky is falling. Henny Penny and Ducky Daddles and I go to tell the king.”

“How do you know that the sky is falling, Chicken Little?” asked Goosey Loosey.

“I saw it with my eyes, I heard it with my ears, and a bit of it fell on my head,” said Chicken Little.

“I will go with you,” said Goosey Loosey.

So they ran along together, and they met Turkey Lurkey.

“Where do you travel so fast, Chicken Little?” asked Turkey Lurkey.

“Ah, Turkey Lurkey,” said Chicken Little, “the sky is falling, and Henny Penny and Ducky Daddles and Goosey Loosey and I go to tell the king.”

“How do you know that the sky is falling?” asked Turkey Lurkey.

“I saw it with my eyes, I heard it with my ears, and a bit of it fell on my head,” said Chicken Little.

“I will go with you to the king,” said Turkey Lurkey.

So they ran along together, and they met Foxy Loxy.

“Where do you travel so fast, Chicken Little?” asked Foxy Loxy.

“Ah, Foxy Loxy,” said Chicken Little, “the sky is falling, and we go to tell the king.”

“Do you know the way to the king’s house?” asked Foxy Loxy.

“No,” said Chicken Little.

“No,” said Henny Penny.

“No,” said Ducky Daddles.

“No,” said Goosey Loosey.

“No,” said Turkey Lurkey.

“Then come with me and I will show you,” said Foxy Loxy.

And just as he was about to lead them into his den to eat them…

…the sky fell on him.

“Oh dear,” said Chicken Little.

“We’re too late,” said Henny Penny.

“Poor Foxy Loxy,” said Ducky Daddles.

“No sense in going to the king,” said Goosey Loosey.

“Nothing to do now but go home,” said Turkey Lurkey.

And they did.

Sometimes you find a pearl and you lose it.  So it has been with Blue Eyed Ennis.  Fortunately, I found him again…and here is a terrific posting I am grabbing.  Thanks to BEE!

Homing in on West Cornwall 

I often post still photos of various places where I mooch about in Cornwall and some people have asked me to show more so this time a relatively short video for my lovely readers from far afield will give a larger view of the Western part of this beautiful county.

This photo below gives an aerial view of the county of Cornwall right down on the most South Westerly part of the UK. Warmed by the Gulf Stream it has warmer than average UK weather , although it doesn’t always feel like that !

I have skimmed through the video below and tried to identify below the key places shown to help people unfamiliar with the area.

The first minute pans over the lighthouse and the long beach at Gwithian Sands, Hayle and then to St Ives where I go most weekends when the weather is fine.

The second to third minute pans over the rugged coastline of South West Cornwall on the North coast showing the various tin mines and then Land’s End, the most South Westerly tip of the UK- last point before the USA !

Ar about 3 mins 30 secs one of the most beautiful open – air theatres, The Minack theatre with its curved ampitheatre gouged out of the cliff granite.

On hot summer evenings with the sea as a backdrop it is a wonderful setting for productions: this summer has offerings as varied as opera from Puccini’s Madame Butterfly, Shakespearian plays, adaptations of books e.g. The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, musicals like Fiddler On The Roof, plays like Our Town by Thornton Wilder and of course Pirates of Penzance by Gilbert and Sullivan.

Then onto the ancient ring circles of Celtic standing stones towards Penzance and the island off Penzance called St Michael’s Mount with the magnificent house sitting on its crest.

From 6 mins 24 thereabouts we see the port of Falmouth, the third largest natural harbour in the world, with it’s castle and then up through the wide river Fal of the Carrick roads with large container ships that leads to the final shots of Truro with its magnificent Anglican cathedral.

Hope you enjoy it !!



Photo re-blogged from Crashingly Beautiful

A few pickings today that arise from the ground of thinking about the church , the wider world in turmoil in so many ways and the need to not shy away from the pain of what is going on nor to defend the indefensible but also to try and gain some perspective.


“I have got, over the years, a sense of the immense sweep of creation, of the evolutionary process in everything, of how incomprehensible God must necessarily be to be the God of heaven and earth. You can’t fit the Almighty into your intellectual categories…. What kept me a skeptic of secularism in college was precisely my Christian faith. It always said: wait, don’t bite on this, get a wider picture, continue to read. If you want your faith, you have to work for it….

Even in the life of a Christian, faith rises and falls like the tides of an invisible sea. It’s there, even when he can’t see it or feel it, if he wants it to be there. You realize, I think, that it is more valuable, more mysterious, altogether more immense than anything you can learn or decide in college. Learn what you can, but cultivate Christian skepticism.”
Flannery O’ Connor

“You know what the fellow said: In Italy for thirty years, under the Borgias, they had warfare, terror, murder, and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Renaissance.

In Switzerland, they had brotherly love – they had five hundred years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.”

That last quote is quite challenging and shocking in its awfulness because part of me knows well which option I probably value more and yet it revolts me that we humans have the ability and potential to create sublime beauty whilst simultaneously and wilfully stoking the fires of destruction and banal brutality.

Our souls teeter on the brink of destruction and we have not yet found ways of resolving conflict peacefully and sustainably.

~ Lime, as portrayed by Orson Wells in The Third Man

There are many messages I can take a way from this powerful and moving video below:

Firstly it is simply a beautiful meditation on the day in – day out faith and hard labour of monastic living and the Rule of St Benedict but when combined with the song playing in the background by Emmy Lou Harris it seems as if the lyrics are pointing to something else much deeper about the darkness and shadow of the human condition.

The text on the screen acts as an optimistic counterpoint to the song in some ways and I found myself playing it several times over to understand and reflect on its message of hope despite the underlying darkness of the theme. The quotes towards the end are full of meaning for reflection.

Reflecting on the meaning of the first verse :

I am forced to recognise my own culpability and responsibility for evil in the world and my sins of omission in letting evil things happen : scapegoating others is far too often an easy default place from where I can offload indiscriminately all my own failings onto any number of others, but the song reminds me that many of the “shadows filling up this land are the ones I built with my own hand.”

but the song also tells me that we cannot change the past and it is about the role of trusting in taking one step at a time and to tirelessly try and persist , to foster faith in the ultimate goodness of life in the midst of the immense suffering and pain going on in the church and the whole wide world.

This may sometimes have to be a solitary undertaking but it gives me comfort that there are many silent witnesses out there in community pursuing the same goal.

The last verse of the song ends with a sense of the wide sweep in vision we need to keep clinging to and the vital importance of expanding our hearts, not contracting them as it is so easy to do.

The belief that Christ will bring us home, eventually is mirrored in the text on screen too.

Lyrics to Prayer in Open D

There’s a valley of sorrow in my soul
Where every night I hear the thunder roll
Like the sound of a distant gun
Over all the damage I have done
And the shadows filling up this land
Are the ones I built with my own hand
There is no comfort from the cold
Of this valley of sorrow in my soul

There’s a river of darkness in my blood
And through every vein I feel the flood
I can find no bridge for me to cross
No way to bring back what is lost
Into the night it soon will sweep
Down where all my grievances I keep
But it won’t wash away the years
Or one single hard and bitter tear

And the rock of ages I have known
Is a weariness down in the bone
I use to ride it like a rolling stone
Now just carry it alone

There’s a highway risin’ from my dreams
Deep in the heart I know it gleams
For I have seen it stretching wide
Clear across to the other side
Beyond the river and the flood
And the valley where for so long I’ve stood
With the rock of ages in my bones
Someday I know it will lead me home

The second song was found by accident but seems to have a similar message to keep holding on to the baptismal faith despite fear of the future and also carries a prayer for renewal .

Oh, oh deep water, black and cold like the night
I stand with arms wide open
I’ve run a twisted line
I’m a stranger in the eyes of the Maker
I could not see for the fog in my eyes
I could not feel for the fear in my life

From across the great divide, In the distance I saw a light
Of Jean Baptiste’s he’s walking to me with the Maker
My body my body is bent and broken by long and dangerous sleep
I can’t work the fields of Abraham and turn my head away
I’m not a stranger in the hands of the Maker

Brother John, have you seen the homeless daughters
Standing there with broken wings
I have seen the flaming swords
There over east of eden
Burning in the eyes of the Maker
Burning in the eyes of the Maker
Burning in the eyes of the Maker

Oh, river rise from your sleep
Oh, river rise from your sleep
Oh, river rise from your sleep

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Joan of Arc

I know this now. Every man gives his life for what he believes. Every woman gives her life for what she believes. Sometimes people believe in little or nothing yet they give their lives to that little or nothing. One life is all we have and we live it as we believe in living it. And then it is gone. But to sacrifice what you are and live without belief, that's more terrible than dying.--

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July 2011



On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.

And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

John O'Donohue, Echoes of Memory