Living here for over a decade, I have long thought that Psalm 23 is the psalm for this Valley. The valley stretches from the village of Hadfield up towards Woodhead Pass and is occupied by a chain of reservoirs built over 150 years ago to provide a water supply to Manchester. If you have ever taken the A628 you will have travelled along it but there are quieter parts and calmer places in the valley. I often walk and pray here and psalm 23 is often in my mind when I do.
The Lord is my Shepherd
The valley is a sheep place. They are all around in the fields and escapees are sometimes on the road as well. As I sit listening I can hear a Shepherd working the nearby flock with his dog: ‘come by’ he calls.
I shall not want. He makes me walk in green pastures and leads me by still waters and restores my soul, guiding my steps on the right paths
The walk today is along part of the Longdendale Trail, a disused railway line, and back along the otherside of the reservoirs: Rhodeswood, Valehouse and Bottoms. There are green pastures and still waters a plenty. Walking is one of my preferred activities and I do find it restorative providing a rhythm to help me stop ruminating on things running round my head.
Even when I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I shall not be afraid for you are with me
After a short detour from my usual path I come across the entrance to an old tunnel under the line of the old railway. It is lined with stone marked by grafitti, and the entrance is mossy and surrounded by brambles. I have not been here before. As I enter the tunnel, which of course is dark, I notice it slopes downwards. I can see the light at the end and more brambles framing the other entrance.
Your rod and staff they comfort me
I step into the tunnel and use my stick to help me to negotiate the dark and slightly slippery route to the other end. The sound of it tapping on the stones echoes back to me in a reassuring way.
You have prepared a table in the presence of my enemies and filled my cup to the brim
Just before the tunnel I stopped at a tea shop. I’ve not been to it before although it has been open a while. It is an old farmhouse and there is a terrace of inviting tables. I choose a toasted tea cake oozing with melted butter and feel very welcome. A glass of cold tap water, made up of those minuscule molecules on which all life depends, completes my banquet.
Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life and I shall live in God’s house forever.
A few late speckled wood Butterflies dance along the path. Faded with fraying wings, they signal that summer really is ending. The heather has finished blooming and whilst the foliage is mostly still green, here and there rusty spikes of dock and browned bracken frame the path heralding the next season. I will enjoy walking this way again with the vault of the sky above me and the well trodden path beneath my feet, remembering this Psalm, amongst others.
In our coming and our going
The Peace of God