Our Last Sunday in Mutton Bay
Sunday, August 7, the Feast of the Transfiguration, was Randy's last in Mutton Bay (we leave Saturday the 13th on the Nordik). It was a near-perfect, early August day. The sky was cloudless, and the royal blue waters of the bay sparkled in the sun as if strewn with thousands of diamonds. There was a stiff, south-west breeze off the sea that made the air fresh and balmy -- and discouraged the blackflies.
Because there was to be a baptism, the congregation in St. Clement's Church was over 30, unusually large for a summer Sunday, and included a number of younger children whose light-heartedness was allowed to blend easily into the formalities of the occasion.
Following the service we all went to the home of the baby's parents, where a delicious spread had been laid out for us and the celebration continued into the afternoon.
Now in those days.... The baby's grandfather.
Sunday, August 7, the Feast of the Transfiguration, was Randy's last in Mutton Bay (we leave Saturday the 13th on the Nordik). It was a near-perfect, early August day. The sky was cloudless, and the royal blue waters of the bay sparkled in the sun as if strewn with thousands of diamonds. There was a stiff, south-west breeze off the sea that made the air fresh and balmy -- and discouraged the blackflies.
Because there was to be a baptism, the congregation in St. Clement's Church was over 30, unusually large for a summer Sunday, and included a number of younger children whose light-heartedness was allowed to blend easily into the formalities of the occasion.
Following the service we all went to the home of the baby's parents, where a delicious spread had been laid out for us and the celebration continued into the afternoon.
Now in those days.... The baby's grandfather.
posted by Garry Lovatt at 7:12 PM
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