A Place of Pilgrimage: Walsingham Abbey

Graffitix

Graffiti crucifix, Norwich.

Grave Peelings: Hidden in Rosary Cemetery

The historic nineteenth century Rosary Cemetery, Norwich - notable for being the UK's first non-denominational cemetery, and the burial ground for many prominent nineteenth and early twentieth century Norwich figures. As with Earlham Cemetery, the older sections of the grounds have been allowed to grow old gracefully, headstones growing beautifully crooked and weather-worn.

This is simply one of many that caught my eye - tucked away in the shadow of an overhanging tree, most of its facade having peeled away over the years. Far from seeming ignored or disrespected, I find a real quiet dignity in this crumbling stone.

"Contained the Remains of Withburga:" Saint Withburga's Well, Dereham

"Wihtburh (or Withburga) (died 743) was an East Anglia saint, princess and abbess who was possibly a daughter of Anna of East Anglia. She founded a monastery at Dereham in Norfolk and a traditional story says that the Virgin Mary sent a pair of does to provide milk for her workers during the monastery's construction. Her body is supposed to have been uncorrupted when discovered half a century after her death: it was later stolen on the orders of the abbot of Ely and a spring then appeared at the site of the saint's empty tomb at Dereham." - Wikipedia entry for 'Wihtburh'

In the churchyard of St Nicholas' Church in Dereham, this supposedly holy well remains, quietly minding its own business. According to another Wiki entry, on the history of Dereham, attempts were made in the eighteenth century to turn the town into a new Bath or Buxton by building a bath house over the well. The building was apparently ugly and unpopular and was eventually demolished in the late 1880s.

I visited on an overcast day. A young woman was sitting on a bench by the well talking loudly on her mobile phone. I felt a bit shifty, poking around with a camera, but she paid no heed. "I f**king didn't! I f**king didn't! I'm f**king telling you, I f**king didn't!" she kept yelling down the receiver. I never found out what she was denying.





















This final image is of the lady herself, on a fifteenth century rood screen inside the church.

Unfortunately

"Meaning is not in things but inbetween them. You unfortunately don't have a free will."

Graffiti on the Lady Julian Bridge over the River Wensum, Norwich, named after Norwich's famed fourteenth century mystic.

"The Door Was Open So We Entered and Prayed": Wood Norton All Saints Church Visitor Book

The small, pretty All Saints Church at Wood Norton, Norfolk. I try not to photograph non-derelict churches too much, for two reasons: (1) they have all already been documented by better photographers than me, who know the subject, and (2) I'm not even sure doing jusice the sense of quietly dignified, rural community history is strictly possible. For me, at least.

Anyhow. I'm a bit of a sucker for looking through visitor's books, offering as they do a different, often transitory, approach to a church history. It's not uncommon to read comments left by visitors from other continents, and is fascinating to see reasons for their stopping by, and their reactions.

...But What About Mediocre Photographers?

Or, for that matter, people who graffiti Great Yarmouth doorways with misspellings of 'thieves?'

Hollow Tower: The Ruins of St Marys, Kirby Bedon

The remains of the round-towered St Marys, in the quiet parish of Kirby Bedon. Supposedly falling into disuse around 1700, there is another medieval church in the village, still in use today - St Andrews, just across the street.

You can stand inside the tower of this one, which makes a nice change from the usual locked gateway. The birds nesting at the top don't seem too happy when visitors with cameras come calling. Bombarded with squalks and bird droppings, I nevertheless escaped unscathed.

Shabby Old Man

St. Augustine's Church, Norwich. The increasingly rundown and vehicle-clogged St. Augustine's Street is currently closed to traffic due to the construction of a new one-way system, and was on the afternoon of this visit, giving it an atmosphere even lonlier than usual. It is located behind the grey and concrete drabness of the Anglia Square complex. The church itself - particularly the inside - reminded me of a shabby old man in a threadbare cardigan, though the rest of the street feels sad, too.