As I was musing on this evening’s service of prayer, my mind was drawn to a song by the Derry born Musician and Songwriter – Phil Coulter. It bears the title – “The Old Man” – though I think it might be better rendered “The Auld Man”. Some of you will know it. It is a deeply emotional and evocative piece. In the wake of the great parting death brings, it captures the memories of a father-son relationship.

As a boy he’d take me walkin’

By mountain field and stream

And he showed me things not known to kings

And secret between him and me

Like the colors of the pheasant

As he rises in the dawn

And how to fish and make a wish

Beside the holly tree

I thought he’d live forever

He seemed so big and strong

But the minutes fly and the years roll by

For a father and his son

And suddenly when it happened

There was so much left unsaid

No second chance to tell him thanks

For everything he’s done

The tears have all been shed now

We’ve said our last good-byes

His soul’s been blessed and he’s laid to rest

And it’s now I feel alone

He was more than just a father

A teacher my best friend

He can still be heard in the tunes we shared

When we play them on our own

I never will forget him for he made me what I am

Though he may be gone memory lingers on

And I miss him … The old man.

As someone who grew up on a farm, close to the land, close to all those “living creatures” spoken about in our First Reading from the Book of Genesis, those first two verses strike me deeply.

As a boy he’d take me walkin’

By mountain field and stream

And he showed me things not known to kings

And secret between him and me

Like the colors of the pheasant

As he rises in the dawn

And how to fish and make a wish

Beside the holly tree

I will be forever grateful for having spent my childhood in the countryside, on a farm, close to the wonder of nature. The feel of wet grass underneath bare feet, the wonder of a seed sprouting and growing, the hatching of an egg or the milking of a cow were all so much part and parcel of my growing up. The fox, the badger, the rabbit or the hare were realities we had seen and heard not pictures in a child’s story book. Feeding and watering of the livestock our daily chores, harvesting silage from the fields or turf from the bog an annual communal ritual. So close to nature with its myriads of wonders couldn’t but raise your mind and heart to wonder at the source of its existence at the good Lord who made it all and “saw how good it was.”

One thing that has stayed with me from those early days is the profound sense of respect that country people have for the land and their genuine closeness and care for the wellbeing of what we might call God’s creatures. I have always thought that, although there is a certain financial incentive for a farmer to keep his well, nonetheless, when the crops are healthy and the animals content, a farmer is a happy farmer indeed.

Growing up in these parts the Ballinasloe October fair, who’s close we mark in prayer this evening, was always an event for us that marked the beginning of Autumn and the coming of winter. For centuries, here in this town, in these days, a people close to the earth, close to nature, gathered to trade the fruits of their labours. Horses and ponies took centre stage though in time other creatures and other activities got a look into too as the fair developed into the festival that it is today.

As we gather for this moment of prayer and reflection this evening, I cannot but be struck at how, over the years my life and the lives of so many of us are being lived more and more at a distance from the land, from those living creatures and from the miracle of nature. Gone for many are the days of growing your own food. Today, it comes prepared packaged and ready to eat. Ther are some small children that think that milk comes from a carton and would be horrified to think that it came from a cow. We dare not contemplate the livestock that yields its existence for human nourishment. We rarely think of the hen when having our egg at breakfast. Carpet and pavement are felt under our well shoed feet, and our furry friends tend to be exclusively the dog or the cat.

Perhaps, this year’s fair and this evening’s moment of prayerful reflection offers us a precious moment to take stock of this estrangement from nature that seems to be part and parcel of our modern living. Perhaps it calls us back to those “birds of the air” and the “lilies of the field” so cared for by God that Jesus speaks about in the Gospel. Perhaps it calls us back to reconnect with our roots, our deep roots in nature and the natural world about us. Perhaps it is in this reconnecting that our natural sense of wonder is re-enlivened. Perhaps also a reconnection with the Creator is made.

As this year’s October fair comes to a close, as the days shorten and the winter nights close in let us pray, this day and in this place that the Spirit of God might renew in us a deep appreciation for the gift of God’s creation and a sense of our God given calling to be its stewards, its caretakers – its minders for this generation and for generations to come.

As a boy he’d take me walkin’

By mountain field and stream

And he showed me things not known to kings

And secret between him and me

Like the colors of the pheasant

As he rises in the dawn

And how to fish and make a wish

Beside the holly tree.