Alchemy

Well, it may not produce gold, but something that takes earth, air, fire and water and creates objects both useful and beautiful deserves a better name than the humdrum 'pottery', or 'ceramics', which sounds like leg-strengthening exercises. I have never tried it since leaving primary school. For me, any creative interaction with the physical world triggers flashbacks to the humiliation of school art classes, where I was told to stand at the back and mime (no, maybe that was music). Mrs M is very talented, and her creations are the bedrock of our crockery, including my much-loved breakfast tea mug

We visited our local potter, who is also a farmer, in the next valley, to forage for Xmas presents. The pottery is a ramshackle repurposing of an old barn. The showroom is some rough tables in a cattle-stall, with finished work piled on it as it landed, and no space to spare - not hard to find distant echoes of Bethlehem. The pottery is both lovely and functional, finished with simple designs in strong, but not garish, colours. The Pre-Raphaelites would approve, I think

I took some pictures of the pots, but it was this corner that drew my eye and turned my mind to the early roots of science and experimentation. These are the sources of those colours, I assume, and some of the tools to hubble-bubble them - an invitation to those with the knowledge and the artifice

The potter is a cheerful and kind-hearted soul, whose company I enjoyed. We exchanged a few country pleasantries. As I recall, these included the trading of firearms and ammunition; the problems of disposing of dismembered carcasses out of reach of carrion-eaters, after the meat has been taken from them; and the poisoning and trapping of vermin. I hasten to add that I'm not referring to anything illegal, or even reprehensible, but there was a slight sense that, somewhere along the very long track from the road to the pottery, the fabric of the universe had shifted a little