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In many paintings, sculptures and drawings of the Last Supper you see this intimate moment where the apostle John leans over, almost embracing Jesus (this photo is the reredos in Launde's chapel, where I'm writing this right now after Midday Prayer). It's a depiction of a moment in John's gospel where the Beloved Disciples is described as "reclining next to Jesus" and enjoying a private conversation with him. Which doesn't quite with visually when you place the figures on chairs around the table, but is a lot less strange when you remember that the custom in those days was literally to recline for a meal: to lie down on one side, propped up on an elbow, with your fellow diners either side of you like sardines in a tin - very cosy! And since most people are right handed it was usual to prop yourself in on your left elbow, meaning the person to your right was especially well positioned for a quiet, confidential chat. That's one of the reasons...

That's not my photo, more's the pity, it's a stock photo from Unsplash. I wasn't fast enough, you see, to get a picture of my own.  A couple of years ago I was riding along the Leicestershire back roads when I came around a bend and saw three white harts. Beautiful, pure white stags, just standing in the middle of this country lane. It was so astounding, I wondered if I might be having some kind of vision of the Trinity. It was like a moment from Celtic mythology. I don't think I'd have been entirely surprised if, like Aslan or Balaam's Ass, they'd spoken to me. It turned out that the deer had been brought in by a local wedding venue but had escaped their confinement. I didn't see them again, but I heard they'd never been recaptured.  Fast forward: this morning, on exactly the same lane, at exactly the same spot, I found myself face to face with nine  fawns in the road. Three brown. Three partly brown and partly white. And three pure ...