Chapel Well

I’m hoping I might be forgiven my trespasses given that it’s Easter Sunday.

I set out to cycle over to my friend’s to return her handy plug planter thingy contraption she’d lent me when she’d bought me some snowdrops from her garden. Chapel Bridge is a good halfway point to stop for a rest. It’s a short walk from the road through the woods and down to the river, and a nice spot to drink my coffee.

This time there was no-one about and after a brief scout around I clambered and slumped vaulted over the fence into Mr Posh, Entitled, and not very nice’s orchard, I furtively ducked and dived sprinted across the open ground, avoiding sight lines, heart racing and expecting the dogs to come running any moment. When he saw me off before, Mr P, E n-v-n had told me the well was ‘lost to time somewhere in his orchard’ … hhhmm … I think not, Mr P, E n-v-n. I knew, as soon as I came across this copious, lushly vibrant green pillow of watercress that this was definitely it. It was difficult to tell if there had been any well housing but it was very lovely and abundant.
I followed its course down to its outflow into the river and it was the one I had seen on my visits before … https://www.blipfoto.com/entry/2965017632832491493
Like a startled snipe I darted and zigzagged my way back and lobbed myself back over the fence and across the bridge. I settled down on the public footpath to innocently drink my coffee and ponder how the monks, or holy folk who once inhabited the long lost chapel that used to be on this site (with the bridge, the well, and the names now the only remaining echoes of their past lives) would have spent their Easter Sunday.

I pressed onto my friend’s and bought a couple of yellow rattle and night scented catchfly for their wildflower patch on my way. 

After a cuppa I headed back (spotted a yellowhammer on my way) and spent the rest of the afternoon gardening.