Enduring stone

And so our Yorkshire week has come to an end. I just can’t believe how many wonderful photographic experiences there have been, and I now definitely need time to reflect. 

Once again, apologies for my lack of response to comments and late visits to your journals, but hopefully I’ll be returning to some sort of normality over the next few days. 

Today’s return from east to west allowed two final visits: to the village of Wharram Percy and the ruins of Kirkham Abbey - with fortunately the rain holding off for both.

The church at Wharram Percy is the only building still standing in this once thriving village - occupied for about 600 years, but almost deserted by the early 16th century. Set deep in the countryside, some 3/4 mile walk from the nearest road, the church nestles between hillsides on which are located the grassed-over foundations of two manor houses and about 40 peasant houses and their outbuildings. 

Since 1948 the settlement has been the focus of intensive research, which has made it Europe’s best-known deserted medieval village, but whilst extensive excavations have taken place, all there is left to see are the slightly raised rectangles marking out what were once the homes of generations of families. Now, these fields are home to a herd of very inquisitive cows - who reluctantly let us pass. 

The church is, of course, roofless, the windows are empty of glass, and a whole side of the church tower has crumbled away. Yet the main body is intact, revealing the structure of the building - the miracle of stone masonry from a bygone era of craft and sheer hard graft. 

Similarly, our second visit reveals the relics of the once great abbey, whole sections of wall standing erect and alone against the odds, the carvings of long-dead craftsmen memorialised despite the elements - as shown in the extra collage. 

Like Tintern, Kirkham stands by a river - albeit both abbey ruins and water course are less magnificent - and I’m reminded of Wordsworth’s lines, a celebration of the spiritual powers of nature. 


.........................................And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man: