Monday 16th February 2026
In the waning days of winter, when the frost yet clung like silver mail upon the fields of Maud in Aberdeenshire, there stood the ancient house of Lodge Leask No. 1084, steadfast as a keep against the dark and the cold. Its windows shone with warm and beckoning light upon the evening of Monday, the sixteenth day of February, and many good Brethren made their way thither beneath a sky strewn with pale and watchful stars.
From the north road there came a small but noble company out of Lodge St. Olaf No. 1188, travelling in fellowship and quiet mirth. At their heart walked Brother Andrew Crawley – known among his companions as Andy – whose hour had come to pass through a gate of honour and be advanced to the Degree of Mark Master Mason.
With him strode worthy companions: Brother Gordon Daly, Right Worshipful Master, bearing himself with calm authority; Brother Graeme McLean, Worshipful Senior Warden, vigilant and steadfast; Brother Trevor Cooke, Past Master, seasoned in wisdom and memory; and Brother Simon Leask, loyal and true. Like knights of old they came—not with sword and shield, but with the tokens of fellowship and the light of good intent in their countenances.
When they entered the Lodge, they were met by the Right Worshipful Master, Brother Ritchie Thomson, and the assembled Brethren, whose welcome was warm as the hearth-fire of a great hall in the days of legend. Fraternal greetings were exchanged, and hands clasped hands in token of unity, as though ancient banners had been unfurled once more in a realm long allied.
High above, in dignity and watchful care, stood Brother David Weymss, Provincial Grand Master of Aberdeenshire East, attending the Annual Visitation of Provincial Grand Lodge. His presence lent a noble gravity to the gathering, as of a lord surveying the loyalty of his faithful vassals.
Then was it declared that the chief labour of the evening would be the Advancement of Brother Andrew Crawley to the Honourable Degree of Mark Master Mason. A hush fell upon the chamber, deep and expectant, like the stillness before dawn breaks upon the mountains.
What followed was wrought with skill and solemn beauty. The Officers moved in harmony, each word spoken clear and true, each sign given in due and ancient form. It was said by those who witnessed it that the Degree was performed in an excellent manner, with precision and reverence, so that the old traditions seemed to live again in their midst, not as faded relics, but as living flame.
Brother Cooke would later speak with pride of how Brother Crawley bore himself that night—representing his Lodge with honour and humility, and taking evident joy in the ceremony. Indeed, he stood as one who, having laboured long in the quarries of fellowship, at last set his mark upon a stone well-chosen and well-wrought.
When at length the formalities of Provincial Grand Lodge were duly completed, and the Lodge was closed in ancient and accustomed form, the Brethren laid aside their labours and retired from the tiled chamber to a place of refreshment and mirth.
There, beneath banners and kindly lights, they partook of simple yet hearty fare: pies and sausage rolls in abundance, sandwiches well-filled, and tea and coffee poured freely and without stint. Laughter rang out as bright as any minstrel’s song, and good-natured banter passed between old friends and new companions alike. Even the customary raffle—modest though its treasures were—was greeted with the enthusiasm of a festival prize in some rustic shire.
Thus ended a night of honour and harmony in Maud: a night wherein ancient forms were upheld, fellowship strengthened, and one Brother advanced upon his journey. And though the wind still whispered cold about the eaves of Lodge Leask No. 1084, within there had burned a fire that winter could not master—the enduring flame of brotherhood, steadfast as the mountains and bright as the morning star.