Over the past few days I have been treated to a veritable feast of ruined abbey sites as I explored a little of Yorkshire's rich medieval monastic heritage.
Having seen images of the cellarium at Fountains Abbey on many occasions, my antiquarian heart skipped a beat at the site of arcades of green-hued ribbed vaulting receding into the distance. Such beauty from such functional form - a humble, humdrum storage area in the pre-Dissolution abbey.
And how I must've gawped as I stared upwards, wide-eyed with wonder at the skeletal remains of the abbey's soaring bare, bleached bones.
The transience of all earthly things; the vanity of kings; the greed of ambitious men; an irretrievable past... tantalising...