pumpkinstrokemarrow

Started off at a relatively new church - 1850 or so - the Holy Trinity at Westcott. Splendid setting and not a bad bit of gothic revival. Lots of stained glass. Unusual tower. Reasonably holy feel to the interior. Knocked out by one Sir G. G. Scott. Rather large tree in the church yard, a bit like a Leylandii. With lots of small yellowy brown fruit.

Followed by St John the Evangelist, in the middle of nowhere, at Wotton. Very old church, at least in its origins, but locked, so we had to confine ourselves to the outside. Some grand graves, including the one where the snap in the previous post came from. Someone who appeared to have lived or died in Jamaica in the 18th century, but who chose to be buried in Surrey. What was odd was the stone cover to the grave. A dark gray slab maybe 7 feet long by 3 feet wide and about 2 inches thick. For some reason - presumably frost - the top half an inch or so was lifting off in places. But not lifting off cleanly, rather with a bubbly sort of finish, looking a bit like tar macadam made with small round pebbles (rather than the angular sort) which had not been rolled out. Presumably reflecting the internal structure, or the manner of composition of the rock. Perhaps I was looking at a heap of marble sized and shaped fossils. Then there was the grave stone of a lady sometime resident in China, Switzerland, the United States, Ireland and England. Winding up at a place called Old Bury Hill which now appears to be a trout pond. Presumably not in her day. Was she some sort of a missionary? Presumably not the Catholic sort, being buried in a CofE yard. Some odd shaped holes in the wall around the graveyard, more like low arches than holes. We decided, correctly as it turned out, that the holes were designed to provide controlled access to the sheep used to mow the grass. Fine speciman of a Wellingtonian.

Then off to the Stephen Langton at Friday Street, a pub presumably commemorating the well-known archbishop of Canterbury of around 1220. The chap who oversaw the death of Good King John. Building with old bits, right off the beaten track and hard to see how it could have made a living before cars and pub-food were invented. Nice drop of fizzy water (without ice) and a good pot of tea. Around the visit to the pub, bit of a walk around the surrounding woods - which those in charge do not find it necessary to interfere with, unlike Epsom Common. Or plant cows on, with all their smelly greenhouse gases. Lots of beech, yew and birch, some sizeable. Some of the beech trees had very strange shapes, having grown out of abandoned layered hedges. Which made one wonder about what exactly one meant by an individual in such cases. Perhaps a collective would be the right word. And then some of them had very strange shapes for other reasons, particularly the bigger, older ones. I think if I was a bronze age person, I would definately go for the convoluted trunks of beeches when I was looking for something onto which to project tree gods. Much more suggestible in that way than any other sort of tree that I know. Although always male in my experience. Have yet to come across a female beech tree.

Which reminds me of a scheme I am hatching. Using that well known outdoor publishing tool called Word, I could produce some A4 sheets saying in large print: "Say no to vandalism. Hands off our common!" and get them laminated by the local print shop. Don't think it costs much. Then when I walk around Epsom Common and get particularly irritated by the vandalism there, I could pin up one of these sheets, perhaps on top of the one the eco-chaps have put up in an effort to explain themselves.

On the way home, came across a very fancy well, complete with a stone well house with pointed roof, hard-core cast iron pumping machinery (including flywheel) and a cast iron fence around the whole. Site once again graced with a fine speciman of a Wellingtonian. Someone in the area must have been keen on the things.

Second wind on Saturday, so off to the Church of Jesus Christ and the Holy Wisdom at Lower Kingswood. Strange little place, said to be a replica of a Byzantine church from the 4th century or so. Oddly for a grade I listed building does not appear to boast a web site. And, despite the name, not the home of specials, but CofE. Fine collection of Balkan pines in the yard.

Followed by a quick peek at Banstead Heath. Another fine bit of countryside with sensitive management. I particularly liked the large field sloping away to the south which looked as if it was cut just once a year. Looked really great in the afternoon sun. Plus we found what looked like the remains of a young adder. The first time I have seen such a thing in this part of the world.

Wound up the day with a visit to our very own Christ Church, where they have done a very good job of replacing the pews with seats. Much better use of the space given the numbers likely to be using it these days. Very taken with the altar and its surrounds, and the screen. Rather high church but rather splendid. Interesting multi media panels around the altar, a mixture of mosaic and glazed tiles - a bit like a ceramic version of stained glass. All very effective.

By today, a bit heritaged out. So the best we could manage was the Epsom Ice House. Which was not even open when we got there. A reasonably modest affair, presumably once an appendage of what is now the Harvester Pub, which used to be a convent and before that, one supposes, used to be a house. I believe the convent sold up to put the value of their land to a better use than living in it. Very proper of them; although a pity that the supply of nice quiet places for the unworldly to retreat to is presumably shrinking.