Turning,

Turning and turning in the widening gyre,
The Falcon cannot hear the Falconer.
Things fall apart,
The Centre cannot hold,
Mere Anarchy is loosed upon the world.....


Found myself handed a set of key and pointed up to the belltower of St. Mary Redcliffe Church today, described by Pevsner as 'The Finest Parish Church in England'

Up and up I went, trying to locate badly taken photographs with actual stones of the steps, admiring the polished surface of the newel post and the rather magnificent gothic arches when I reached the top of the steps. But then, what happens at the top? The steps just keep going up and up and up and there is nothing to stop you falling to your doom. But what a place to die.