pumpkinstrokemarrow

The outer perimeter of the field was marked with a hedge, maybe 5 feet high and 2 feet thick. Immediately inside that, with a DMZ of maybe 1 foot, was a 5 feet high fence. 2 inch wire squares below with two or three strands of barbed wire above. Presumably fox proof. Then the outer part of the field proper was some kind of green stuff. Couldn't tell what is was. The square in the middle was more or less bare earth. But dry with no puddles to be seen. At good intervals in the middle square stood three chicken houses. Maybe 30 yards long, 4 wide and 3 high, arranged in two stories. Roofed with some kind of blue plastic sheeting. Ramps down to the ground. Massed chickens at the tops of the ramps watching the world go by. Much smaller number of chickens poking around on the bare earth. And an even smaller number in the green stuff. There did not appear to be any barriers so this must have been the way they liked it.

Two or three awning erected for those chickens which liked to be out of the shed but in the shade. Didn't notice any cockerels. Not sure what is needed in that department. Perhaps nothing if the chickens are destined for the coq au vin.

At the spot from where we were watching we could here a subdued but nevertheless considerable cackling. The noise inside the sheds must have been tremendous. But overall, we thought a model establishment. We would be happy to buy a free range premium for chickens raised in such a place.

Given that we were in this part of the world, thought we would take in a few Dorset churches. Started with those at Compton Pauncefoot, South Cadbury and Corton Denham. All much the same sort of thing. Small places of considerable antiquity, built in attractive yellow stone and much restored by the Victorians. The first had a good deal of stained glass in a number of different styles, some from Belgium. Must have cost a packet in the first place and was costing a packet more as a good part of it was under restoration, although the restorers did not mind us creeping around while they worked. Must be a tricky business to judge by the number of small tools that they carried. Didn't like the Belgium stuff very much - neither the design nor the colour - and a lot of the remainder had become rather dull with years. Offended the Pugin dictum that stained glass needs to live in its window in an organic way. You are not just planting a picture in an awkwardly shaped frame. The second was strangely unholy. Did not feel much like a church at all. But the third, half way up a hill with a landmark tower, did feel holy. Much the holiest of the three. A place with proper atmosphere, in which one could sit and reflect - or even meditate - should the mood take one.

Then down to Sherborne to the Minster. A very imposing place for a country town which must have cost an even bigger packet. An early example of fan vaulting running the length of the church. Sitting in the nave while the Tallis Scholars performed, irritated by three solecisms. First, the mullions of the large east window ran from top to bottom without regard to the shape of the window as a whole. No tracery to bed the mullions into the top of the outer window. Another violation of the Pugin dictum. Second, the fourth arch holding the tower up over the crossing, that at the entrance to the chancel, had been cut back so as to make way for the fan vaulting there. But the effect from the nave, the arch at the exit from the nave being very solid, was wrong. Unbalanced. Somewhat mollified in the morning when I was able to view the arches from the crossing, from where they looked much better. Must have run out of vaulting money as the south transept had what I think is called a double hammer beam instead.

Tallis Scholars most impressive; doing stuff well suited to the locale. Got a lot of sound and tone out of at most ten voices. So much so that I was convinced at the end of the first half that they were being discretely supported by an organ. Investigation showed that this was not the case. I was told that acoustics in the minster were good. Nobody knew why, all a bit of a hit and miss business it seems. All in all, much more my sort of thing than the Christmas fare offered by the rather larger but also younger and entirely male choir at Kings College. They have got a bit too tricky and tinkly. But another bit of famous fan vaulting just the same.

Third solecism was the clapping at the end of each of the eight or so pieces. Not something I care for ordinarily and certainly not in an ecclesiastical context.

Fifth church was the Methodist chapel nearby. A most impressive building inside, despite having been built in two shifts. Light and airy and entirely suited to the more cerebral methods people. The sixth and last was the church at Castleton, the bit of Sherborne which had grown up in the shadow of the bishop of Salisbury's castle. Another low church place with fine panels behind the altar table reminding one of the Lord's prayer and Creed.

The Dorset people do well in that all six churches were open to visitors, despite some of them being well isolated. And one of them, at least, at 0800.