Rain has been heavy this last few weeks as we all know. January 2016 will no doubt earn some record for the wettest month ever or something similar. A few photographs on my travels of a park flooded and a nearby graveyard equally wet.
St Helena Chruch in Austerfield that sits on the border of South Yorkshire and Nottinghamshire is a small church sitting back from the main road almost hidden by a copse of trees. Inside the church is calm and beautiful and with a lovely mellow feeling not at all at the high end of religion . In short it looks a lovely place to worship. Where however it becomes unique is that William Bradford was baptised there around 1590 and he went on to become one of the most important figures of the 17th century by virtue of becoming one of the founding Pilgrim Fathers. Travelling over in the Mayflower to New England where he became Governor of the Pilgrim Colony.
On Bank holiday monday May 5th 2014 the church hosted an excellent art exhibition by a British artist Ann Wildgust.
Reflections on my first 24 hours in Wales are what a curious place this is. It rains all the time, the signs on the roads seem to deflect you to the wrong place, and generally things are not quite what they seem. My hotel for example. To get to the hotel reception and bar/restaurant there is no option other than walk through a graveyard. A fully functioning graveyard. I can only think that when God designed Wales he had Alice in Wonderland as his template. Bit of an overdose of mad hatters though for sure. A small electric car was parked at The Angel Hotel in Abergavenny. Raining. Windows down. In fact are there any windows? The car was charging in fact. The hotel as well was curious in that each room I attempted to go into to find my meeting was being knocked down or redecorated. My Graveyard hotel, might as well be named, St Pierre at Chepstow, is full also of curious folks. Couple of business types talking in that business way in the corner, loudly, muttering words like ” cash” and ” business forecasts”. In fact they are having a few pints of something nice. A daughter maybe calls one of them to be told ” I am in a meeting”, with the word ” meeting” embolden as though it were a place next to heaven.
chris1957
Arcticterntalk.org 