There is a famous piece of Glasgow art called 'Windows on the West' which features a blonde sandstone tenement. Most of the tenements I pass are red sandstone, and several have some rather beautiful original coloured glass windows.  This morning, my early permitted exercise involved much intentional 'looking up' and enjoying the diversity of windows and other decorative features on these Victorian buildings.

Looking upwards almost always beats looking downwards, and today was no exception.

At the start of Lent, I hoped that a craft group would be able to meet and create something or some things for Easter worship.  Events overtook those plans, but some of the crafting got done anyway.

Yesterday, I dismantled (tore bits of of) the poster/banner for Palm Sunday and used parts of it to make a bit of a window display - along with the rainbows I already had.

I took it down this morning, but I reckon it worked quite well for the day it was there - now just pondering what to do for Good Friday and Easter...

I went out early, just after 7 a.m., for a walk of roughly 3 miles/5 km, not expecting to see many people.  And whilst it wasn't busy, it certainly wasn't quiet...

I turn right from the gate, and across the road, is somone, similarly clad in coat, hat and gloves, striding the other way.  We wave and smile.

I start up the hill, towards the Secondary School, and approaching me, in a high-viz hjacket is someone who won't step left or right, so I move into the road.  They issue a repost, 'A've no go the virus...'  Good, I think, and stride onwards, wondering if they don't understand.

Outside the convenience shop, two young adults wheel a cage of supplies towards the door.  I hang back, giving them room.  'Morning' they say cherrily.  'Thank you for being open' I reply. We all smile.

At the traffic lights I turn right, spotting a lycra clad jogger ahead of me.  We execute a balletic pas-de-deux; they thank me, we smile and go on our way.

I pass the play park, the primary school, and notice the streets start to fill up with dog-walkers, people buying their daily paper or going to work.  We nod, and negotiate the distancing as if carefully choreographed in advance.

I duck through a couple of side-streets, having paused to photograph some beautiful jib-cranes (it takes all sorts!)

Back on the main road, and I see two people chatting outside a convenience shop, clearly not from the same household, and clearly not two metres apart.  As I step into the road to pass them, they spot an approaching police car and step apart on the pavement. I chuckle to myself.

Another right turn, and I pass the retail park.  Ahead of me I glimspe the familiar form of one of the supermarket check out staff, heading in to work.  I glance across and see the queue of early shoppers waitng to go in.  I give thanks for those who keep us fed at this time.

I near the bus shelter and a person meanders down the centre of the pavement, eyes fixed on a phone, tapping with thier thumbs.  They don't even notice as I step into the road.

Almost home and I see a neighbour in a bright floral coat.  We stand in the road, a large gap between us (more like 3m than 2m!) and catch up, before they head to the shops.

I pass through the back gate, cross the car park, in the back door and up the stairs.  At my own front door, I doff gloves, hat, coat, shoes; I wash my keys, wipe my phone and head to the shower.

I have seen all sorts of people, handling this strange situation in all sort of ways.

I am blessed to be permitted to go out for a walk. 

I will pas-de-deux; I will smile and nod; I will breath in clean air; I will be grateful... and I will try to be gracious to those whose reponse I don't understand.

There are many grass roots endeavours to brighten up the days of lock down and limited activity.  One is the appearance of rainbows in windows - I've put a couple in the manse living room window - a sign of hope and a promise of a future beyond the here-and-now.

I have spotted a fair few - mostly drawn by children, but some clearly the work of skilled artists.

If you are lucky enough to be able to get out, why not look for rainbows?  And either way, maybe you can draw or print off a rainbow to put in your own window?

The cliche says, 'when it rains look for rainbows, when it's dark, look for stars'

The hymnwriter says, 'I trace the rainbow through the rain, and feel the promise is not vain, that morn will tearless be'

Each of these carries truth.

This morning's early walk took me past the site of the the former Western Infirmary, where it's possible to look across and see the enormous new learning hub emerging from the rubble.

It's a marvellous sign of hope.  And there are cranes, so I am happy!!