Continuing the theme of capturing scenes from my local area, or as I have written before; ‘Close to my back door’, an opportunity arose this week to photograph the water meadows adjoining the River Piddle in Dorset.
Whilst flooding is a regular occurrence at this time of year I have never seen the water levels reach this height before. With the ground well and truly saturated, more rainfall in the coming days and weeks will only bring about further flooding to the area.
I was particularly pleased to capture the last image in this set – a photograph of the church and its reflection. I am grateful to the farmer who allowed me access to his land to make these photographs possible.
Oh and by the way welly boots are an essential item for this type of photography!
For the past couple of years a large section of my local churchyard has been left to grow wild. Untended, the grasses grow, and will gradually die back, more so in this hot dry summer. They provide a habitat for insects, birds and possibly other wildlife as well. In early autumn the area is cleared and nature’s cycle will continue. Cut back, dormant, only to re-emerge and thrive again next spring.
Churchyards are places of peace and sanctuary which evoke many contrary emotions. They are there for those that have gone before us. The old headstones and crosses mark the lives of the many generations who were once alive and part of village life. In some cases the inscriptions are still visible but these are old stones, so more often than not the words of remembrance and the dates of the dearly departed have been worn away, eroded by the elements. I can only imagine the tales that are buried in the ground beneath my feet.
The other day I dusted off my tripod and gathered together my ND filters, and decided to try and capture how I felt about this place. On the one hand there is stillness. The age-ed gravestones no longer upright but weathered and leaning from the passage of time. Resilient to change, protected and to be respected. The gusting wind and sun would play their part. The grasses waving as the wind ebbed and flowed. Sunlight fleetingly disappearing behind thin cloud only to reappear a few moments later. Essential ingredients which helped me realise the images I had in mind. A mix of life, movement, light and death.
From a photographic point of view I enjoyed being alone for a few hours. Over two sessions I immersed myself in the scene as I discovered new compositions. Moving and adjusting the position of the tripod, swapping lenses and ND filters. Manually focusing and varying the camera’s settings to try and achieve the look I was after. Simply being creative.
I understand that for many people churchyards are sombre and melancholic places. I find it hard not to share these feelings. However there are also feelings of resilience, rebirth, remembrance, respect and ultimately love and hope as we contend with the challenges that are placed before us each and every day.
In the past few days I have been reading ‘Steeple Chasing – Around Britain by Church’ by Peter Ross. I am now about half way through the book and I am thoroughly enjoying both the content and the well written word. I can highly recommend it.
In the first chapter titled ‘Darkness’ two short passages spoke to me and in so many ways succinctly described my own feelings when visiting churches.
The first and I quote – “And so, as I grew older, I found myself drawn back – not to pray necessarily, but to sit for a bit, to poke around, to get in out of the rain. I began to appreciate the wisdom of John Betjeman’s words: ‘Church crawling is the richest of pleasures, it leads you to the remotest and quietest country, it introduces you to the history of England in stone and wood and glass which is always truer than what you read in books’”
In the second passage the author refers a visit to the Benedictine Abbey at Pluscarden in Scotland following the recent passing of his father. He writes – “…… it brought me a peace that I hadn’t felt for many weeks. I left far lighter than I had come. Was this a religious experience? I don’t know. Perhaps it was just being forced to spend long hours sitting in quiet. ‘It kind of gets inside you / The silence I mean,’ sings Linda Perhacs in her beautiful song ‘Chimacum Rain’, and old churches are like that. You are entering a building but really it is entering you.”
The six images shown here are a collection I have made over many years from visiting a variety of churches. I love to watch the light as it moves around, highlighting subjects which would otherwise be in virtual darkness. I endeavour to capture the feelings of stillness, of quiet and of solitude, prevalent in churches but not quite so easy to find elsewhere.
Perhaps it goes without saying that in the Bible the metaphorical meaning of light and darkness is often used to compare good and evil.
In John 1:5 “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
I have almost certainly said this before, but a visit to a small church in the countryside is good for the soul whether or not you are religious or have a faith. I can happily spend a couple of hours in a relatively confined space taking some images whilst allowing the quiet solitude and timeless quality of the interior to have an enriching affect on me. More often than not it is helped by the fact that rarely I am interrupted by other visitors. To have the place to myself is rather special and only enhances the peaceful experience.
All Saints’ in Little Somborne is another church in the care of the Churches Conservation Trust. Historically important, it was mentioned in the Domesday Book and its origins are half Saxon and half Norman. It is still consecrated but no longer used for regular worship. I suppose this adds to a feeling of melancholy…..time and circumstance has long passed it by, and with church attendance falling in this country, more and more parish churches will inevitably close as they cease to be financially viable. They can’t all be saved so those that are should be treasured, not just because of the building’s significance but as a reminder of times past and how the church played such a vital role in village life in days gone by.
For the record Sir Thomas Sopwith, a British aircraft designer whose company was responsible for the Sopwith Camel and other military aircraft which fought if the First World War was buried here in 1989.
It was a dull early winter’s day as I stepped inside. I looked around and slowly my eyes began to adjust to what at first seemed a very gloomy, cold interior. Slowly the church revealed itself to me, as the light of day penetrated 13th century sandstone rubble walls through the deep arched medieval window openings. The remote setting, the ancient churchyard and the surrounding Black Mountains of the Brecon Beacons all contributed to the atmosphere of this small historical place of worship. Almost instantly I am taken back in time and can only wonder whose feet have crossed the threshold in all the centuries past?
This is the church of St Ellyw’s in Llanelieu, Powys in Wales. It is now cared for by the ‘Friends of Friendless Churches’. On their website it states that “St Ellyw was a princess martyr of the 5th century and according to legend, she was murdered close to Llanelieu by a rejected suiter who refused to accept her vow of chastity”.
A good many years ago I began a project which has no end. I started to photograph church interiors which eventually inspired me to submit a successful panel of images for my Associateship of the The Royal Photographic Society. Whilst the appeal of this project has never been lost it has been on the back burner for quite a long time. Whilst on holiday in the Brecon Beacons towards the end of last year, I made a special effort to visit and photograph this church which was of particular interest to me. It revived my love of not just photographing these places but experiencing their atmosphere and quiet solitude.
I have always been drawn to remote churches in the countryside. Small buildings which are being preserved but not necessarily used for regular worship. There are a number of other similar churches in the near vicinity of St Ellyw’s, so a short break to this part of Wales specifically to visit these churches is definitely on the cards. Until then there are others closer to home which I have listed, one of which I visited quite recently and I will be posting some images very soon.
alan frost photography 