The balmy weather of the tropics seems like it happened a lifetime ago. Or was it only yesterday?

The dank fog competes with the acrid smoke of a coal seam burning nearby. The Brookans huddle around their hearth, yet more smoke. My eyes water and nose runs. Winter in Muswellbrook.

The pre-dawn rain has burdened the naked trees.


Myriads of bulging drops sparkle from every twig. The Dutch philosopher Herman Dooyeweerd taught that Β the universe has no self-existence, but always points beyond itself to the transcendent Mystery. Also in Muswellbrook in winter.


God is invisible, and has no substance or form. That is the context for being created in the image and likeness of the eternal One. Like the raindrops, actualising not the self, but the Creator. Transparent to God!

Meanwhile Daryl’s Bobcat is preparing the final resting place for a raindrop.


Give rest. And light.