Happy St George's Day

A brief interlude to wish everyone who wishes to be wished, a happy St George's Day. Everytime I walk or cycle past a village church nestling in (still) unspoilt countryside I feel a small burst of happiness that I have the good fortune to live in England, with it's muddled but determined history, it's miscellanous jumble of race, religion and creed and our often understated ability to 'KBO'.*

Despite it's many faults, I would not live anywhere else on earth.

* 'Keep Buggering On' as coined by that greatest of Britains, Winston Churchill.

Hampnett 21/3/10

With so many deadlines to finish in the studio, it's been a few weeks since I have been out and about. It's a horrid situation, but unavoidable. The last tramp we had was to a little village called Hampnett. It nestles quietly in a little dip, as it has done for hundreds of years. There is the church which we intended to visit.

Seen from the edge, little seems to have changed, save for cars and television aerials.

The central green has a clean spring which trickles happily along, turning into a flowing stream. It's source is just in the middle of the picture here, if you follow the greener grass of the stream edge.

We sat on the slope and had our little picnic.

Then followed the winding path up to the church.

This simple looking church contains a rather unusual secret.

Of which more, later.