church photography | alan frost photography

The start of the Jubilee Trail and my pilgrimage … Walk number one.

*My trusted twisted hazel walking stick and stag horn handle*

It’s late summer in mid September 2024 and the start of my ‘pilgrimage’. To place one foot in front of another for the entire length of the Jubilee Trail in Dorset, a total distance of 90 miles. Not all in one go I hasten to add, but in separate walks which would cover the length of the trail. The trail starts in the north west of the county near Forde Abbey on the border with Somerset, and concludes on the border with Hampshire in the north east, close to the village of Martin. Some of the routes will be circular in nature, others will be out and back along the same path, whilst those closest to home will allow my wife to drop me off and then pick me up later in the day. I don’t intend walking each section in order but rather like a jigsaw puzzle each walk will in time complete the picture.

In preparation I have researched and created routes for all the walks – there are 32 in total – and they cover a distance of more than 180 miles. Some are quite short, less than 3 miles in one case, but none are more than 8 miles, as there will be detours along most of the routes. I have described this journey as something of a pilgrimage as it will give me time to contemplate, to explore, to get to know and truly appreciate the beauty of the Dorset landscape. I wish to visit all 34 churches which are either on the trail itself or are very close by, but just as importantly I want to take my time to immerse myself in the landscape, and to make photographs of each individual walk.

This is the first walk and I thought it appropriate if it was at one end of the trail, so I chose to start in the east. As well as imagery, I will include a map of the route and a description of the walk and my thoughts along the way.

So here we go!

Sillens Lane car park to Pentridge Hill and Pentridge Village

After a flat white coffee at home I put my camera bag, walking boots and hazel hiking stick in the car and drove the 28 miles to the small car park at Sillens Lane which lies close to the village of Martin; the most westerly village in Hampshire. Much to my surprise I arrived to find a crowded car park but there was one space available although the next visitor might not be quite so lucky. ‘RingGo’, a parking app, requested a voluntary car parking fee of £3 for the day to help maintain the area. It’s a small price to pay, even if I did key in the wrong registration number on the app! I must have had other things on my mind.

A couple of signs provided information about Martin Down Nature Reserve and alongside these boards was a wooden bench in memory of Ronald Bolt 1918 – 2003. I assumed this must have been his favourite spot to admire and walk in the landscape. I very much doubted he needed the signage to tell him why he should love an area which was so special to him.

I prepared to set off and there were a couple of pathways I could choose from. Despite having the ‘Outdoor Active App’ on my smartphone I still managed to pick the wrong track, but this was easily rectified when I reached Bokerley Dyke, a scheduled monument. The earthworks are about 3.6 miles long, and are thought to have originated in the Bronze Age or early Iron Age. In its time it was an important cultural and political boundary. It marks the actual starting point for the Jubilee Trail but to my surprise there was nothing else to signify the beginning of trail, nor its end if someone had walked its length from West to East. No signage no way-marks, nothing.

I headed in a south westerly direction alongside a coppice with a field of cattle on my right. After a short time I stopped briefly to tuck my trousers into my socks to discourage any ticks that might be lurking in the vegetation awaiting their next blood thirsty meal. I also put my down jacket in my rucksack as I was already warming up. The forecast was for dry weather with sunshine, but it actually turned out to be a beautiful day and much warmer than I had anticipated.

With the coppice now behind me an old and rusty farm gate lay ahead with a well trodden track leading off to the right. At the time it seemed obvious to me that this was the path and it wasn’t necessary to open the gate into the field. There were no signs to inform me otherwise so I my instinct took charge. Later on I would find out that my instinct was incorrect and I had made the wrong choice.

It wasn’t until I reached the track which lead from Whitey Top Farm that I realised my mistake, so I doubled back a short way until I found a wire and barbed fence which I could clamber through and rejoin the trail. After this minor navigational error the rest of the route was quite straightforward.

It was now midday and getting much warmer. I don’t much like the heat so I wouldn’t have wanted it to much hotter. I was only 1.4 miles into the walk but some liquid refreshment was needed. The first part of this walk had been a steady incline and the views of Cranborne Chase were starting to reveal their beauty. So too was some of the wildlife. Above me a kestrel hovered in the air sighting its prey on the ground below. I looked down and a few wasps emerged from a hole in the chalk track, a nest I assumed. Later and for a brief moment a hornet circled my ankles but no sooner had it arrived than it left, flying out of sight and not to be seen again. I was grateful as their bite is far from pleasant, although I am told they are not aggressive creatures, they just look that way.

I crossed a field of wheat that had recently been harvested with many a grain still lying on the ground providing plenty of food for rooks, pigeons and other birds.

*A recently harvested field with the promise of shade ahead*

A few trees lay ahead offering a little shade from the sun which continued to shine brightly, as I made my way through a gate and on to Pentridge Hill, which in turn would lead me Penbury Knoll and a place to rest for a simple packed lunch. For the first time on the walk I met another person; a horse and rider to be exact. We greeted each other, said it was a beautiful day and went our separate ways.

*Onwards through the gate and on to Pentridge Hill*

*Looking towards Penbury Knoll with Cranborne Chase in the distance*

I reached the trig point at Penbury Knoll, the highest point on the walk and a very fine place to stop for a while and admire the surrounding scenery. It wasn’t difficult to find a shady spot, sit down, lean my back against a tree trunk and rest my feet and legs. I hadn’t walked that far but I am not as young as I used to be. It was exactly 1 o’clock so definitely time for some lunch and to spend time taking in the far reaching views. As I munched on my marmite and cheese baguette I saw a red kite twisting, turning and gliding on the thermals above Pentridge Down. It was a great display. As I watched this bird of prey, a gentle wind blew and in the shady setting of old oaks and tall conifers I cooled down and slowed down.

A few minutes later and the kite re-appeared from below my feet, exploring the chalk downland, then wings started beating as it stopped to retain its position in the air. The wings halt their movement and the kite quickly dives out of view, maybe it was heading towards my next stopping point – the village of Pentridge and the church of St Rumbold.

Before I leave this lovely serene spot, I swallow a single tablet prescribed to help reduce my high blood pressure. I wonder which is more effective, a drug or taking exercise and being in the landscape?

It pays to slow down and to stop, to photograph and count my blessings.

*A fine place to stop and admire the landscape – Penbury Knoll*

I came out of the shade to rejoin the trail and the sun, but I was now refreshed and eagerly awaiting what lay before me. The path took me south and gently downhill towards Blackbush Plantation before turning sharp right and continuing the descent across grassland and cultivated fields. I had now left the Jubilee Trail and joined the Hardy Way, another long distance path across Dorset and Wiltshire which takes in places associated with the author and poet Thomas Hardy. At over 216 miles in length I will leave that trail for another day.

The farm track lined with dried grasses and wildflowers, almost skeletal in nature, soon led me to Pentridge, a tiny and pretty village made up of mainly detached houses with a mix of tiled roofs and thatch.

I made my way to the church, to find the churchyard like others rather untidy but that’s the way of things today. Churches are now encouraged to leave some areas left untended to encourage wildlife.

To my delight the door to the church opened and I stepped inside and was greeted by the sun working its magic through the leaded light windows. It was wonderful and I captured the light and the darkness with my camera. I always consider images of this nature to be very fortuitous as they only present themselves when the light is at a certain height and is cast in a particular direction. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Divine intervention possibly?

Having taken these two photographs I spotted a sign in one of the stone window reveals. Unfortunately it wasn’t dated but the notice confirmed the grant of £70 for an enlargement to the church on condition that 140 seats were reserved for the poorer inhabitants of the parish. How times have changed I thought to myself. Today a Communion service is only held once a month at St Rumbold’s and I doubt if the number of parishioners attending would break into double figures. I wondered how long ago it might have been when all the pews were packed with both the rich and the poor?

I left the church and departed the village, up a stony lane towards Whitey Top Farm and the last ascent of the day. As I approached the farm two seemingly rather aggressive dogs ran towards me, barking loudly as they did so. Fortunately there was a strong fence between them and me but nevertheless I was pleased when I had passed them by.

*Back on the Jubilee Trail before returning to the car*

I turned left and rejoined the Jubilee Trail and then descended back the way I had come earlier that day, through the shade of the coppice before entering open ground back to the car park. I checked my navigation app and I only had a third of a mile to walk before completing the first of thirty two walks exploring the Jubilee Trail. It had been a joyous walk of 6.2 miles and the weather could not have been better.

I only saw two other people, the lone horse rider and one other walker; a woman on her own at Penbury Knoll. By the time I noticed her, she had walked past me with her back now facing me. She hadn’t stopped to admire the view, nor say hello but I wasn’t offended, as I like it on my own. The solitary experience of just me in the countryside, alone with my thoughts, whilst enjoying nature and the beautiful landscape appeals to me.

It wasn’t long before I saw my car parked in the near distance, the number of cars had diminished considerably.

I drove home excited at the prospect of my next encounter with the Jubilee Trail.

St Eloi’s, Llandeloy ….. let the story unfold

There are times during a church visit when the building or a particular object ‘speaks’ to me, and when it does I like to spend time exploring that subject. To look for different compositions but more than that to try and tell a broader message, a story which lies behind the images – or in other words the reason why I was drawn to the subject in the first place.

This is the first of a two part post on St Eloi’s, Llandeloy, Pembrokeshire in Wales. Tucked away it’s about 8 miles inland from St David’s Cathedral an altogether different and famous religious building which will attract many thousands of visitors. I doubt whether St Eloi’s will attract a couple of hundred people through its ancient doorway in a single year.

The principal subject for this entry is the book of prayer open at The Communion and sitting on an old prayer stand. Judging by the dirt it’s hard to know how long these two pages have been exposed to the light and not been turned.

Moving back, the prayer stand itself is revealed, as well as the uneven stone floor and steps. An altar top is just visible. The light falls on the prayer book and a faint shadow of the stand on the floor suggests a window opening above.

Changing the angle of view reveals a simple pew set off to the side, room enough for two or maybe three parishioners.

The image below arguably shows the whole scene. A plain metal cross stands on the stone altar top. It is in fact a side altar or bye-altar, which is subordinate to the central or high altar to be found in another part of the church. The window reveal is shaped by the incoming light shining on roughly hewn stone. Also clearly visible are what I assume to be mice droppings. It would appear that this church isn’t used or cleaned on a regular basis.

Taken at face value each picture is purely descriptive in its nature, however there is another narrative.

I find it sad to witness but these photographs depict an ongoing and wider problem as fewer and fewer people attend church and consequently more and more churches will fail and become redundant. Places of historical and architectural merit. Spiritual places often playing host to works of religious art, and certainly places which are full of memories from centuries past.

Charitable institutions have been formed to save and care for these special buildings. One such charity is the Friends of Friendless Churches, which not only look after St Eloi’s but work to rescue and protect more than 60 other churches of all denominations across Wales and England. However they rely heavily on donations and volunteers, an uphill struggle at any time.

On the one hand I feel a sense of joy that these churches are being preserved for future generations but on the other hand I cannot ignore a feeling of melancholy, as past times are remembered but hopefully will never be forgotten. Future generations should be able to witness for themselves the important of these sacred places.