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Showing posts from January, 2010

Spring a Springing!?

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A ruined church, winter bare trees in the deserted churchyard and the jackdaws’ cry. All are reminders of mortality - a fitting backdrop for the Lenten fast!  The reused bricks and conglomerate stone incorporated by the 11th century the builders recall “the glories that were Rome”. Once this building housed a miraculous wonder-working  image of St. Theobald to which pilgrims flocked. Often when I come here to pray , there’s just me and some friendly horses. That’s fine for someone who seeks solitude but do these deserted and neglected ruins point towards the Church of England future?”

Ah! I have left out the most amazing thing that one day totally transformed a dismal scene! “A host of ….daffodils !”  

On a March day back in 2009,  like William Wordsworth’s Lake District flowers, these were abundant and “danced and fluttered in the breeze.”  I think I know what the poet meant when he wrote:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward e…