I’m sitting on my back steps, watching the sun go down on another year.
I’ve spent the day running around my cathedral, and the evening running around in the glorious light of a spring evening in Glasgow, and in between I read a book and a cat went to sleep on top of me. Tomorrow, there’ll be fabulous music, and the waving of palms and cries of Hosanna — what do you mean, they don’t do that for your birthday? — and laughter and roast chicken and my people.
My thoughts will eventually turn to the year ahead and all that I hope to accomplish during it.
But for this weekend, I’m simply breathing in the air and giving thanks for this, my improbable, blessed, wonderful life.