Here Comes Summer

Here is the news -  The clocks have gone  forward  and British summertime has begun!

But -if you can`t bear to watch or read the news you`re not alone.  Newly published research (Reuters Institute of Journalism) shows that more than 7 out of 10 news publishers are concerned about increasing levels of news avoidance.  More and more people are turning away from the news because it`s just too difficult to take.

How guilty are we of scrolling past bad news on our social media feed switching off the TV or radio or pausing a podcast when  the subject matter becomes too tough to take?  Although it`s tempting to do we need to be aware of events and trends across the globe and to be able to support people and organisations working to make the world a better place.  We are also living in a time when people are turning away from the news of any kind and seeking, instead, distraction or entertainment.

One of the functions of local radio is to offer a positive service to the community.  It`s a privilege to be on the radio and part of the team at WCR FM.  In our broadcasts, in what we say on the radio and in the wide range of ways that we communicate with Wolverhampton we are called to be positive and upbeat.  In a world that is turning away from bad news we have good news to offer.  Our mission is to present this good news in ways that can catch the attention of a distracted world that`s tired of the gloom and looking for something better.  Today is the start of British summertime.  Go out there and see the beauty.  God is good.  Life has returned to the land.

A Summer Visitor

Wood wakes after winter hibernation,
Vestal virgin leaf sap in veins unfurls
And from sleep life awakes, stretches, uncurls
To the sound of summer`s celebration.
Two notes are constant from dawn`s creation,
A grey bird with a double note of song,
Herald with its monosyllabic tongue:
Winter`s veil drawn aside, tell the nation!

Treble bleating of new-born lambs at play
Is echoed by their mother`s gruff replies
As soft clouds sail across a Wordsworth sky.
In cathedrals of trees, a hymnal lay,
To linger whilst meadow grass turns to hay:
It reverberates around woodland aisles,
A simple declaration without guile:
My childhood seems like it was yesterday

The human world, one of heartache and pain:
Escape it and lie down beneath the trees,
Whose waves of bluebells extend like a sea.
Listen to that one recurring refrain,
A happy motif where summertime reigns.
A bird seldom seen, you can hear its voice 
And weary hearts are lifted and rejoice:
In the wood, listen to summertime again!

Now and Next