In the country

Just been for a walk round a little of the village we‘re staying in. We‘re on the outer perimeter, I think, so that the line of houses on one side is contrasted with wide open fields on the other. Everywhere we’ve been lately the farmers have been cutting the wheat and then gathering the hay into large round bales. The dusty smell lingers in the air.
At the end of our Close is another of the innumerable old churches that dot the Norfolk/Suffolk countryside. This one has a square tower which makes it Norman, if I remember rightly. Inside it’s quite cramped compared to many of the old churches, and seems to have little to differentiate it from dozens of others. There is a turnstile at the gate, however.
Outside the grass is growing up amongst the older graves, some of which are on a lean, and will soon fall to the ground. Most gravestones only seem to go back to the late 18th century; perhaps the earth has swallowed up earlier ones, as it seems to be threatening to do to later ones, or perhaps gravestones weren’t large in the earlier days and the graves of the old saints are well and truly hidden from sight.

St Nicholas

After we’d been to Ickworth yesterday, we took a bit of time wending along the back roads near where we’re staying. Came to Little Saxham and the church of St Nicholas, which has a round tower – a crenulated round tower in fact, for those who want to know such details. This means that it’s not just round, but has various indents and ‘windows’ in it.
It’s also been described as the most spectacular Norman round tower in Suffolk, by somebody called Pevsner. A man who ought to know, by the sound of it.
It’s a lovely little church, set amongst the quiet and peace of a graveyard (nothing like being reminded of where you’re heading when you go to church), and it’s in good condition, considering its age. It dates from the 12th century, though of course, as with all these buildings, there were various modifications over the centuries.
Inside, within the tower, is a small stained-glass window, made all the more effective by being set in walls that are a couple of feet thick, so that it shines out into the gloom.
The place was empty when we went inside, and we had to ourselves for the whole of our visit. I took a number of photos, though whether they’ll come out well is debatable; the flash wanted to keep flashing and made everything brighter than was helpful for detail. What I most wanted to try and photograph wasn’t the tower, which we couldn’t see well anyway (though I’ve included a photo from the Net here) but the wonderful carved animals on the ends of the pews. They were at both ends of each pew, and also at the place where you lean your arm, if you’re lucky enough to be sitting on the end of the row. Each one was different.
Unfortunately, a number of them have been worn away with time, and with children digging at them and various other mishaps, but the best remain. There are dogs, and lions, and sheep and various fierce exotic animals, all in height about the size of the full open stretch of a hand. They bring a delightful homeliness to the atmosphere of the place – even the exotic animals – rather like the pictures in a children’s book rounded out and made ‘real.’The Norman tower may be the architectural feature of the place, but I think we’re more likely to remember the animals a lot longer.

All Saints' Anglican Church, Gresham, Norfolk

Our plans for today shifted a bit as a result of visiting some of my wife's relations. Instead of going to Sheringham, the town she calls home, we finished up going about six miles inland, to Gresham, where at least one of her brothers was born, and where her mother and father are buried in a churchyard, along with several other relations.

Part of the church is 1000 years old, dating from Saxon days, according to my brother-in-law. There's a large round tower, and at least two sections to the church, where an extension has been put on at a later date. Even the extension is very old.

While we were there, some workmen were doing repairs. This is an ongoing job, apparently, as the church requires some extensive renovation. However, it's still being used, and that's a plus in itself.

You can read about it in more detail here, especially about the octagonal baptismal font, which has renditions of the seven sacraments, plus Jesus' Baptism.

The graveyard had recently been mowed, mostly, and wet grass was everywhere, sticking to the soles of our shoes. The oldest gravestones seem to be from Victorian times, but that may only mean that earlier ones have vanished into the earth, or have been removed, or never existed in the first place. There are a number of recent headstones, since people still have connections with the place, and presumably they have family plots.

Such antiquity brings a sense of awe to people visiting, but awe of a different kind occurred when I rubbed my hand against some of the ancient beach stones that made up the round tower, and half of one fell out. Oh, dear. Celia picked it up and claimed it: a family heirloom, perhaps?