In the midst of twenty-four hours of death and cruelty elsewhere in the world, we enjoyed some peace this morning. I ruin the quiet by barking for joy as we see the moon in the blue sky, the calm sea lapping at St Cuthbert’s cell in the distance and even further away, the castles of Bamburgh and Lindisfarne. Only a snapshot; a poor thing but our own. The tide will be high by the time we return this afternoon, so there will be no shells to collect. Even here the shadows are long, betraying more than just the time of year, it would appear.