"And He turned the storm into a breeze:
and its waves were still."
wrote the Holy Psalmist King David.
Today we had a spot of bother with the tide.
Last night there was a storm to the east of Papa Stronsay
which meant that this morning
as our Heavenly King
"turned the storm into a breeze"
the great rollers of the North Sea
still came crashing into the east of the island.
(If you click the above photograph to enlarge it
you will see how tall the waves are in comparison
to the little ruined house on the horizon.)
This, coupled with extremely high tides
produces some interesting results!
The force of the sea between
the pier and the monastery gatehouse
drives big rocks up into the roadway.
The last remaining herring shed is engulf buy the sea
as it come spewing inland through St Brigid's Bay.
The rough weather prevented our morning Rorate Mass,
however by evening the sea was calmed
but for a strong swell and an awful lot
of seaweed and sand churned up in it.
A large bull seal played near the boat as we crossed over,
eager to find some delicious morsel thrown up by the storm.
Our 4pm Rorate Mass in the northern darkness (by 3.30pm).
Once again the words of the Holy Psalmist set the scene for us.
"Let my prayer be directed as incense in thy sight..."
"...the lifting up of my hands..."
"...as Evening Sacrifice."
