It is that time of year once again when Ragged Ramblers can cast their time-pieces to one side and enjoy a leisurely evening perambulation. So it was that we arrived at St Helen's church, Ranworth on what was a glorious sun smiling day.
Upon arrival I bounded out of the motor vehicle and headed straight for the internal flint mould of an Echinoid I had noticed many years previously. For the benefit of visitors, it's located in the south wall of the church tower at about waist height (or ankle height, if you are Thadeus). It stretches one's imagination to think of the warm marine seas which these creatures inhabited many millions of years ago (tides of time)...
I will refrain from eulogising about the wonderful Fifteenth century rood screen and loft, for which St Helen's is rightly famous (this subject will be dealt with more fully, I'm sure, in future posts). Instead, I will invite you to climb with us as we ascend the narrow spiral staircase up to the church tower...
Pause for a while, and inspect the name neatly incised by a mason 111 years previously... pause, and wonder at the mark we make as we pass... worn steps; epitaphs - "the rags of time".
... and then you are there, and if the ascent hasn't already done it, the view will take your breath away! Beyond, the broads; legacy of medieval peat cuttings inundated - certainly by the time of the great flood of 1287. It's a site which makes some stop and reflect, and others... dance. It is one of the Ragged Society of Antiquarian Ramblers favourite sites.
Being in the west, I don't often get to Norfolk, but it has a great fascination for me. There is one street here in Bath which is paved with stones that are the fossilised strand of a Jurassic beach, when the tide went out for the last time, and - for some reason - never returned.
ReplyDeleteUh-oh - I've just noticed that you have a small ring through your pierced left ear, and now I am getting extremely cold feet. I really hope that you're not an old-style pervert, like dear old Pevsner used to warn me against. Oh well, time will tell.
ReplyDeleteDear Tom,
ReplyDeleteIt has been suggested to us that Nikolaus Pevsner himself had piercings, "in secret places", so his moral testimony is not without question. Furthermore, we members of The Ragged Society of Antiquarian Ramblers have more of a tendency towards new-style perversion: church tower lust; rood screen rubbing - that kind of thing.
Huzzah!
Don't forget stroking the oak .
ReplyDeleteAnd caressing the tweed!
ReplyDeleteAnd 'flasking' (That's where you gather in heritage sight car parks late at night and watch men in bow ties drink tea)
ReplyDeleteor double teaming. that's where two bishops squeeze through the same door
ReplyDeleteOr my favourite past time as a girl, carefully examining piers for marks left by the craftsmen who'd handled them.
ReplyDeleteI've always enjoyed a bit of backfilling...
ReplyDeleteElias the Shovel
And double digging is quite fun
ReplyDelete