Take me to church

The weather has been glorious as summer drains away and though my camera and I have been busy I’ve been a little under the weather recently and lacking inspiration. Sometimes I get the feeling that I’m running round in little circles getting nothing much done and it’s at those times that I need to pause and think.20150926-DSC_0382

Every now and then as I drive back and forth across the Cotswolds I stop in a village and explore – we’re knee-deep in the picturesque here but too often we hurtle past it. Just recently on my way back from the Cotswold Wildlife Park I went straight across the crossroads instead of my usual left, and found myself snooping around Shilton.20150925-DSC_0312

It’s a picture-book pretty village with plenty of wobbly cottages, probably more holiday homes than houses for locals; a couple boasted cars so posh they were shrouded as if recently dead.  It was the middle of the afternoon and the only things stirring were builders working on a renovation – spoiling the illusion of timeless calm with Radio 1.20150925-DSC_0313

If Postman Pat moved this far south he’d find the dry stone walls, village green, ford, and church at the top of the hill quite familiar.20150925-DSC_0317

I’m not a religious person but I do find myself drawn to ancient churches. I don’t have any expertise in reading them, in fact I rather like not knowing much. Just seeing what catches my eye and absorbing the atmosphere. I sit for a while. A small, empty church is one of the few properly quiet places in a rackety world.

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The gardener/nature lover in me is pleased by venerable trees, the touching little clumps of snowdrops or daffs which spill from graves, intriguing lichens mapping the gravestones. Here I saw Colchicum in the grass and a speckled wood butterfly resting on the brambles. It was possible to climb straight out of this churchyard into the undulating fields of Oxfordshire.20150925-DSC_0319

The Church of the Holy Rood at Shilton is at least Norman, possibly Saxon in its origins, with painted decoration on the arches inside dating back to about 1150. This and a little 13thC paintwork is all that remains after Victorian so-called restorers stripped the plaster murals off the walls, appallingly misguided vandalism which pushed William Morris and Philip Webb to found the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings (SPAB) in 1877.20150925-DSC_0323

I sat for a while and imagined the Cotswolds shepherds and wool merchants who might have frequented this place. It was cool, it was quiet. I picked up a leaflet for later reading, dropped a few coins in the honesty box and went on my way.  On the verge outside there was a sparkling colony of Hieracium aurantiacum, or fox-and-cubs. A cheery man invited me to the forthcoming Harvest service. I felt restored.20150925-DSC_0334

Just one day later Chris (my husband) and I headed west from the Cotswolds, coincidentally he’s a member of SPAB, and the Gloucestershire group had arranged to meet in St Mary’s Church at Little Washbourne. It’s no longer in use, but it’s a solid little Norman church set among orchards and fields and still has a peaceful atmosphere.20150926-DSC_0373

I slightly resented the other group members and wanted it to myself; I sat in one of the square Georgian pews and imagined children of a previous century catching each other’s eye and trying not to giggle as the sermon droned on. 20150926-DSC_0376

We decided to drop in on Tewkesbury Abbey next, outside the sunshine made the stonework crisp, and there was some joyously complicated bellringing going on. Gorgeous trees, including a stupendous copper beech and a Liquidambar glowed in the precincts.20150926-DSC_0384 20150926-DSC_0461

Inside there were plenty of visitors, even a shop, but it was still quiet – you couldn’t even hear those bells – then a disembodied voice invited us to join it in prayer or at least to sit in silence for a while. I was happy to do the latter, while absorbing angels and curlicues, tiles and tombs. I was glad that non-believers are welcome to share the peace of believers. I’ll share a few more pics and wish you peace, however you may find it.20150926-DSC_0386 20150926-DSC_0395 20150926-DSC_0396 20150926-DSC_0397 20150926-DSC_0398 20150926-DSC_0399 20150926-DSC_0406

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11 thoughts on “Take me to church

  1. I too love the peace and quite of Churches and their green space whether big or small. It is they and trees that make me wonder at what they have both stood through, the history they have witnessed.

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    • Yes Bob, the ancient trees and churches have a lot in common, they make us sit quietly, look up, and feel that there is something a lot bigger than us, whether that’s history or spirituality or both, I don’t know.

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  2. Harriet you are so lucky to live in such a pastoral, historically rich place…I know what you mean about the endless rushing around…It’s so restorative to stop, savour the details of a natural scene or a particular way the light illuminates foliage, or…In my area we have very few historic buildings, and our ‘old’ ones hale from a mere century or so, if that. The mountains and wildness around Vancouver however, provide the grandeur and scale that a cathedral might inspire. It seems to be about finding a quiet place that reminds us of something much larger than oneself. This sort of perspective shift and the quiet, are SO restorative, as you so aptly note. ‘Must run…Off to catch up on a million errands’ Thanks for sharing your thoughts and these photos. Would love to visit some of these places…

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    • Hi Jo, yes, I think you’ve hit several nails on the head there. And there is lots of stuff to relish here – but I’d love to see that amazing landscape around Vancouver too! So much to see, so little time… but we have to remember to stop and appreciate what’s under our noses. Easier said than done.

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      • If you ever come out this way, I’d be happy to show you one of our two botanic gardens… As you say, must appreciate our own back yard, but there’s something about the history in your country that really is compelling…

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      • Thanks Jo, maybe one day! Yes, we have a rich history embedded in our landscape. Usually it’s a great and resonant asset, though occasionally it holds us back, making us wary of new ideas. It does mean that any little excursion can be interesting even with only sketchy memories of school lessons or a tiny bit of research.

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