Weaving to and fro

The hamlet of Barcheston sits on the east bank of the river Stour, in Warwickshire. The opposite bank comprises the expanding country town of Shipston-On-Stour, but no development has spilled on to the east side of the river - except the county recycling centre, that is. At no time since the turn of the 20th century has the population of the 630 hectare parish exceeded 150 people, though it's hard to see where even that many live. Nevertheless, the parish church has survived and is still in use; curious

There must have been a time when it was busier. In the late 16th century, the aristocratic Sheldon family established Britain's first tapestry factory in the parish, producing 121 tapestries during its lifetime, with the help of a Flemmish master-craftsman. Four tapestry maps of the local counties are particularly important, as they have details of what was on the ground at the time. Unfortunately for the Sheldons, they were Royalists, and the civil war brought an end to the business 

I stopped pedalling on the edge Barcheston because it offered a quiet, out-of-the-way grassy corner for a banana and biscuit break. Only after I'd stopped did I discover there was even a convenient bench, and only as I was leaving did I notice that under the bench, flush with the ground, covered by grass clippings, was a stone slab, on which were inscribed the words 

When I come 
to the end of the road 
and the sun has set for me, 
remember the love 
that we have shared 
and that will comfort thee

I've discovered this is a 'borrowing' of a couple of lines from a longer poem by Christina Rossetti called Let Me Go, often read at funerals - and the last line is not Rossetti's, it is made up to create a simplified rhyme (when compared with the carefully structured original). Rossetti's poem, in my rough terms, suggests we should be sad when someone we love dies, but shouldn't overdo it or remain morbid for too long - sentiments grounded in her religious convictions. I'm not sure the reworking is truly faithful to the original. Again, curious

The picture is not in fact Barcheston, but the nearby village of Idlicote, where a fortuitous wrong turning led me to a pretty village pond. It's not often you get this close to bullrushes when not in a boat. I wish I had noticed the fungal mycelium on the surface when I was there, rather than when I looked at the picture at home. Another curiosity