An awkward reverence

Once I am sure there's nothing going on
I step inside, letting the door thud shut.
Another church: matting, seats, and stone,
And little books; sprawlings of flowers, cut
For Sunday, brownish now; some brass and stuff
Up at the holy end; the small neat organ;
And a tense, musty, unignorable silence,
Brewed God knows how long. Hatless, I take off
My cycle-clips in awkward reverence ...
(part of a much longer poem Church Going  by Philip Larkin)

A gorgeous morning, we abandoned everything and took to the hills, the grasses blond, the bog black and squelchy.Just a  couple of miles from home and not a soul to be seen.  A peer through the church windows on the way home and an entry for Markus' challenge on light and shadow. I have done something like this before but it was accidental - this time I came back with full intent and awkward reverence!

Off  for chips and arthouse tonight - looks a good one - The Florida Project. I'll report back.

Thank you for all the love for Miss Foxy Fineen, she loved all the hearts!