The Hermitage, a holy place hewn from the rock, with simple decorated chambers.
pulled at the doors with the force of a desperate spirit wishing to enter. And then all too soon, my mission complete, and one rather loud bang of the door in the North aisle, it was time for me to leave before I was locked in.
Salisbury Reflections “Breathe�, I reminded myself as I finished angling the tripod legs between the spouts of perpetually flowing water, and angled my lens so that the rim of the glass kissed the water without making a ripple. And now wait, offering up silent prayer that no one knocked a leg of the tripod and sent my beloved camera into the depths of the font. Guided tours came and went. Visitors ambled at leisure up and down the nave looking but not seeing. People watching whilst you wait is a wonderful past time. Then finally, after a couple of hours, the way was clear, the water was smooth, and the shot was taken.
Norwich It was a very stormy June afternoon in Norwich, and the cathedral felt like night had descended early. As a result the darker recesses of the cathedral now had a distinct other worldly feel about them, where candlelight and the little natural light available ricocheted off the ancient gnarled stone vaults and columns creating lurking shadows and pools of warm light.
Ely Cathedral, Candlemas
majestic space illuminated by candlelight and the sound of the choir filling the capacious nave
The Hermitage The day had started the night before in an epic drive from Dorset to Northumberland to watch dawn rise over Sycamore Gap (dawn was not that obliging). It did, however, turn out to be a fabulous day. And so this particular June afternoon I found myself taking a pleasant stroll along the waters edge to the point where the boatman could be found. Amongst the long summer grasses was the little landingstage where a little wooden row boat sometimes waits to take people across the little stretch of babbling water. At first the little path that leads from the landing steps seems wholly unremarkable. Tranquil enough, but simple in its enchantment. And then as you step through the final trees you are suddenly in an open glade inhabited by ancient stones and ancient trees alike. The most verdant green decorates the rocky walls and uneven steps that lead up into the Hermitage. Except it is not a Hermits retreat but a private chapel associated to or belonging to Warkworth castle. It is a holy place hewn from the rock, with simple decorated chambers. It is a tiny, magical place and once you have explored all that you can it is time to once again be borne back across the river away from this magic, timeless place and back into the sunlight of the 21st century
It was a bitterly cold February night sat on a cold stone floor, but it was a beautiful sight to see this 19
