Seeing the light

We made another visit to Bayvil. It's a tiny church you'd never find unless you knew it was there, down a farm lane leading off a lonely road a couple miles back from the coast, the sea visible from the door and the churchyard now a horse paddock, its few lopsided gravestones stifled by bracken.

A dwindling rural congregation rendered the church redundant and it sank into neglect until rescued by The Friends of Friendless Churches who did just what was necessary to keep the structure viable and to preserve the minimal decor, along with access for owls and bats. The churchyard was allowed to revert to nature, overgrown at this time of year but in spring spangled with celandines, then flushed with bluebells.

Essentially a stone box, the interior bears witness to the perfection of simplicity, and is large enough for only the score or so of worshippers that the parish supplied. There are a handful of boxed-in pews (good for keeping draughts out), a basic altar table and a remarkable three-level pulpit with a sounding-board above: no chance that the minister's words would be swallowed up by the whistling of the wind. Beside the pulpit stands a heavy wooden bier ready to carry the next coffin to its final resting place.

I myself am without any religious beliefs but I relish the way old churches preserve the past like time capsules and especially in one such as Bayvil which remains exactly as it was built around 200 years ago, spared any subsequent interference by Victorian restorers who loved to alter and add, losing in the process what was unique. At Bayvil it's possible to sit a while in surroundings that have changed not at all since the farmers and cottagers and fisherfolk sat here on their one day of rest to be harangued about their sins and threatened with the hell that awaited them if they failed to toe the Biblical line.

Around the doorway you can find dates and initials perhaps of local youngsters who might have gazed seawards at this lonely spot - there would be nowhere else to hang out. It was only today that I noticed for the first time tiny images of sailing boats scratched into the hard stone, suggesting the destiny of many of them.

I've put several more pictures of Bayvil in my Blipfolio if you're interested in this kind of thing, including the graffiti. Also the Old Man and the Dog.