Church in Wales

At a glance, the church isn't much. It's an old stone building with a metal fence around it and a painted wooden door. Stepping inside, you would perhaps be surprised by the apparent lack of chairs, and the obvious presence of painted pictures, from the screen in the front to the cool poster titled "The African Saints" on a post in the back. There are candles by the pictures in the windows, candles in the center of the church, candles by the screen. Well, my friend, you would have just stepped into a Welsh Orthodox church - specifically, the Church of All Saints in Blaenau Ffestiniog.

I was blessed, many many weeks ago, with a chance meeting with the Anglican reverend in town, I mentioned I was Orthodox, he gave me a pamphlet with a list of religious leaders, and one of them {gasp} WAS ORTHODOX! I email the priest, Fr. Deiniol, about how to get to church in a town an hour away from Bangor, and he gave me phone numbers to call, both men who live in Bangor and drive to Blaenau Ffestiniog for church. I made the call, and for the first time in a month, I was able to go to church.

It was wonderful. The old, somewhat dilapidated stone church had icons everywhere, on all four walls, and on all four sides of the wooden posts supporting the ceiling. The floor was wooden for the most part, with some colored ceramic tiles in an aisle up the middle and along the sides. There were candles in the middle of the middle aisle, candles in all the windows, candles in front of icons, prayer candles in the front, everywhere. The scent of inscense was also everywhere, a lovely smell, like spices.

Church there is a very intimate thing, especially when there are only four of us in the congregation. Tea after church is also intimate, because...well, there's only four of us.

And, for the first time in a month, I had Communion. What a wonderous feeling it was. The whole experience was wonderful, being in an Orthodox church again, and being again in the Presence of our Lord and Savior. Not just being in His Presence, but being in His Presence with other people. Being a community in His Presence.

I love the church here.

Playing Catch Up - Scenary (S-C-E-N-E-R-Y)

I'll catch up on the last few weeks with focuses on scenary, church, and Outdoor Pursuits. Have a little scenary thrown at you!

Everywhere I've been in Wales, everything is shades of gray and green - the sky and mountains are always gray, the grass is always green. There will be days with blue skies, there will be mountains covered in purple heather, and there will always be small splashes of warm color in the fields, but in general, Wales is gray and green.

That is not to say that it's not lovely here. The above picture shows a walkway through the middle of town, where one could almost forget that he is in a city, thanks to the green. I don't know what this area is called, or if it even has a name, but it's my Dear Green Place. This place has many greens, deciduous greens, coniferous greens, and grass greens. This is one of my favorite paths through the city, in fact, this is the path I take to avoid using B*tch Hill (Yes, it's actually called that. I'll take a picture sometime).

Even when everything is gray, though, there's a kind of stark beauty about it. I believe this tree to be dead, simply because I've never seen it green, but it's beautiful. Most of the grays here are misty, drizzly, windy grays. There are also the rock-hard grays of the walls, the dark-wet grays of the pebble beach, and the just-beyond-reality grays of the mountains. The just-beyond grays are my favorites. When we went to the Aran Islands, they were just-beyond until we were nearly there. All the just-beyonds are great places to stretch the imagination, call up the Red Dragon, and see what it might have been like in another time.

The Menai Straight (of which the above is a part) changes color with the tide and mood of the day. Often, the water will reflect the sky, but sometimes it is darker, angrier. The wind will sometimes whip it up until there are white caps on the little waves, and sometimes it is smooth as glass. I once saw it brown and muddy, and the next day it was a dark-wet gray, the same color as the beach past which it ran. I love my beach, and I call it mine because it is one of my Sanctuaries, where I can go, sit, think, and not be bothered. It is a safe place for me.

I cannot give you a picture of the wind, sadly, but I love the wind. There is never a day without it here, whether it's a gentle, playful breeze or a wild gust. Through all its moods, though, it never stops being a friendly wind. I suppose that will change, the closer we get to winter, but for now, it's a friend.

There you have it, the ups, downs, lefts, and rights of the scenary. I went through the entire post not knowing if I've been spelling "scenary" right. I haven't been. S-C-E-N-E-R-Y. Scenery. It looks funny both ways.