Church warden

A wonderful walk up through the ancient Freston woods, to the churchyard at the top.

On the way, cloud upon cloud of wild garlic flowers heralded the bluebell skies of the upper slopes. And amongst them, scarlet campion, ragwort, archangel, lungwort under the remains of wild cherry blossom..

What bliss on such a morn to be alive

At the top, the secret little 14th century church of St Peter, left to decay for centuries before it was restored by a sympathetic Victorian. And there the Church warden and a helper were busy fettling it for the service next Sunday. Two confirmations and a baptism, so it needs to look its best.

He was kind enough to stop and talk to us about the history of the church.

Here he is, searching his memory in the South door, with the old 14thcentury devil's door in the dark behind him.. To his left you can see scratched on the stone of the door frame a rudimentary medieval sundial. You put a stick in the hole and its shadows will tell you the time of the next service