Adult content

For the recent sixth birthdays of our two younger grandchildren, I put together a book of weather vanes. This has now evolved into something a bit more grown up, with others' poems to complement my photographs.

It was interesting, finding out something about the subject. A wind or weather vane pivots, as I say in my brief introduction, so the pointer can move freely, the surface area being unequally divided: the side with the larger surface area is blown away from the wind direction, so that the smaller side, with the pointer, faces into the wind. For example, in a 'Nor-Easter' (a wind that blows FROM the North-East), the pointer points TOWARDS the North-East.

The word "vane" derives from the Anglo-Saxon word "fane”, meaning "flag". Originally, fabric pennants would show archers the direction of the wind: the cloth flags came to be replaced by metal ones, decorated with the overlord’s insignia, and balanced to turn in the wind.

Sometimes they are called weathercocks. St Gregory the Great having described the cock emblem as a suitable Christian identifier, churches often displayed (as many do to this day) the rooster symbol. It serves as a reminder of the Maundy Thursday prophecy, recorded by all four Evangelists, that before the next cock crow, Peter would three times deny knowing Jesus. A weathercock still describes someone changeable or fickle, tending to go whichever way the wind blows.

In April 2010, when walking in Spain on the Via de la Plata through the Province of Salamanca, I noticed a rash of varied scenes portrayed on weather vanes. It made me pay more attention to examples of our domestic tradition: it seems no less rich and varied. However, of the weather vanes I have photographed so far, only the Spanish ones incorporate an anemometer, to indicate wind speed.

As with most of my books, "The Weather Vane" is available print-on-demand. This is the link to the paperback version: it's also available in hardback.

Post Benedict XVI

We don't often think of a Pope on his knees, begging forgiveness. In this wooden relief, Peter is doing just that, of Jesus' mother, having betrayed him three times before the cock crew. The relief is one of three carved a few decades ago, as the retable of a side altar in the little chapelle Notre-Dame du Carrefour at Montredon, just North of the River Lot: I passed through when walking last May.

We must be careful what we wish for, but it's tempting to put together a "wanted" list when thinking about the coming conclave. Someone who is willing to ask forgiveness for too much past secrecy; for the Church's treatment of women; for toleration of injustice, and for a presumption of white superiority? An enabler of bishops within their own jurisdictions? A pricker of Vatican Curial bubbles? A putter-aside of fripperies and too much ceremonial? A servant of unity between Christians, and between the Abrahamic faiths? An innovator in the field of virtual communication between Catholics worldwide - convener, even, of a Twitter Synod? A leader who puts concern for the Created world at the heart of his ministry? One could go on, but you will no doubt be already saying "Get real!"