Its Palm Sunday today. I begin the journey to Easter... the last time I did that I was in Jerusalem - we experienced Holy Week in a day.

This morning we walked from the village green to the church - it was beautiful but not quite the same as being in Jerusalem and walking in the steps that legend has it the Christ walked. I have to admit that I suspended reality in many places and at many times. Who can prove that this is actually the very spot that this or that happened? And does exactness matter any way?

I got so much from just being in the vicinity. I got to understand what it might have been like to be in a city like Jerusalem. Not exactly the same but the tiny lanes, the noises, the temperature, the smells, the crowds, the jostling - all will have been similar.

It was a lovely day here. The sun shone and I took the cover off the table and chairs in the garden. We even risked a barbecue and that didn't invoke rain - highly unusual.

Some times its really hard to make that leap. To transfer how it felt to suddenly realise what Holy Week was really like to the reality of daily life. Its not easy. Life seems so distant or maybe its the grim truth of the crucifixion that is difficult to translate - or easy to hide from.