Outdoor Spirituality in Norfolk and further afield
The Rising of the Sun and the Running of the Deer…
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It’s great to get outside on a winters day, to stretch the legs and walk off the turkey. 21st December is the shortest day. From then on the days will begin to lengthen and the singing of the birds surpass organ music and singing in the choir!
If you want a winter walk that with the sight of deer, head for Holkham. I you leave the car park in front of the Hall and head right around the lake and you will be on the Holkham Lake Path -leaflets are available at Holkham or on-line at www.holkham.co.uk/html/park_03.html. I can guarantee skeins of pink footed geese flying overhead and herds of deer sheltering beneath the trees. The deer are quite used to people, are tame and are very photogenic.
Following the path round the lake and into the woods you’ll soon come to the Holkham church. Heavily restored, it’s only the dedication, the site its self and west wall that give clues to its ancient foundation. Perched on a hillock, it is dedicated to St. Withbura, the 7th century royal princess-turned-nun who was the first abbess of Dereham. The west wall shows signs of being as old as any church building in Suffolk and Norfolk. Famously Withburga and her sisters were supplied with milk from a doe deer that came everyday to be milked!
I’m not sure if the church can offer visitors and pilgrims merry music or sweet singing save for that of the birds. Last time I passed that way the door was locked – conveniently they appeared to have locked God out. In the stillness and beauty of a place where prayer has been valid I thought I caught a glimpse! Rather, like the fleeting vision of a deer passing silently through a glade!There is certainly a holly tree in the churchyard but you would be hard pressed to find any ivy. Holkham’s foresters have a hatred of it and wouldn’t let it choke any of their beautiful trees.
I have not posted much of late. I have been struggling. Between completing the pioneering work on a possible Withburga Way between Holkham and Dereham in the summer of 2022 and today my health has gone downhill in alarming way. I'll never walk the route in a couple of days, nor yet in 3. I'll never walk it. The rapid onset Pulmonary Fibrosis has left me struggling for breath putting my boots on let alone walking. Yesterday, I went to St. Benet's Abbey , ate my picnic lunch in the car park and set myself the challenge of walking from the car park to the Abbey ruins. It is 0.35 miles and uphill all the way from from the Gate House to the old rugged cross that marks the site of the high altar at the summit. The hill looked quite daunting - "Who can ascend the hill of the Lord?" I sang under by breath. Stopping often to catch my breath, slowly one foot in front of the other, I got closer to the summit. There before the cross, wind in my hair, it felt as i...
Once upon a Tudor time, the name of Shelton was well known. The family’s manor house, at Shelton, now a parish in the Hempnall Team Ministry, was a great palace. The Sheltons were kinsmen of the Boleyn’s. Ann, Henry VIIIs queen and mother of the Princess Elizabeth, had been named after her Shelton aunt. At one stage Ann Shelton had charge over Elizabeth and her half-sister the Princess, soon to be Queen, Mary. For a cracking read in which the Shelton’s play a supporting role try Hilary Mantel’s books on Henry’s VIII Wolf Hall and Bring up the Bodies ! As a fan of Hilary Mantel, I was already romantically attached to the parish of Shelton even though the once lavish Tudor Palace is no more. Inquisitively, I decided to follow a newly published circular route that began and ended at the parish church. I hope to add links to the walk here as soon as possible. For the time being pick up leaflets of all the Hem...
The statue is of Constantine lolling in a chair, just outside York Minster’s south door. On the other side of a pedistrianised roadway one of the great columns of the Roman Garrison’s Principia building has been re-errected. As I stood and surveyed the scene I was very close to the place where in 306 CE the IX Legion proclaimed Constantine Emperor, the successor to his father Constantius. Before Constantine died in 337 CE he had converted to Christianity and the privileges and status that had once belonged to those who promoted the cult of the Divine Emperor fell to well placed churchmen. Some thought the privilege, power and status too much and retreated into the cleansing austerity of the desert. Other’s relished in it, climbing the dizzy heights of hierarchy and enthusiastically taking over Imperial Rome’s loveof monumental buildings pouring endless resources into the building, beautifying and maintenance of Christain basilicas. I am inclined to say, “This is where,...
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