A Pleasant Diversion.

I just gave myself a rare treat – put a packed lunch together and took it to the churchyard of the old mediaeval church to eat. It was a splendidly warm, sunny day, and the car needed its twice weekly run out anyway, so it seemed a good idea to go in that direction and combine pleasure with practicality. (And there’s no way my left leg could walk that far at the moment.) There was nobody else in there and the sense of peace was as sublime as ever.

  

I haven’t been into those hallowed grounds for more than three years, and it was good to visit the grave of the ladies Isabella again and view the grooves in the stonework where the mediaeval archers sharpened their arrows. I also found the graves of my late landlord and his twin brother looking almost pristine in the family plot. I paid my guarded respects.

The church itself was locked, of course. Nearly everything is these days. And I wasn’t planning to go in there anyway, splendid as the interior is with its Saxon crosses and alabaster tombs of the local mediaeval gentry. It occurred to me that I might hear a ghost whisper ‘I do’, a ghost which is now well laid I think but I was happy to be spared the opportunity of finding out.

There was only one aspect of the visit which troubled me. There was a notice on the gate explaining that the church building was closed due to the present crisis, but that I was welcome to sit in the churchyard 'for purposes of prayer or peaceful contemplation.' It said nothing about the eating of cheese and tomato sandwiches.