puddleshark

Bank Holiday weekend, but you could tell how grim the weather was by the complete lack of traffic on the coast road. Drove down to Tyneham shortly after the Range Warden had unlocked the gate. The narrow lane snaking down to the village shining silver in the rain, as much stream as road. In fields beside the lane, sheep washed very white, sheltering in the lea of gorse bushes.

( To the sea )

I had forgotten how beautiful the churchyard is at Sydling St Nicholas, tucked away on the high ground at the edge of the village, with a farmyard on one side, and open countryside on two sides. In April, it's full of primroses and daffodils. And in among the spring flowers, old stones ornamented with emblems of mortality: hourglasses, skulls and longbones.

( Many pictures, plus the curious incident of the libellous salad )

The news this morning was heartbreaking. Restless, I made a pilgrimage to the tiny wooden church on the cliffs above Ringstead Bay.


St Catherine by the Sea, in the remote village of Holworth. Wooden churches are rare here. This is the only one I can think of in Dorset. Services are still held here, once a month.

( Saint Catherine, grant shelter in the storm... )