You'll never walk alone

I can see clearly now

After the driest spring on record, it is time for the clouds to gather, 

For the sky to draw up water from the sea.  For the light to fade, and the temperature to drop.

The land needs refreshment,

Let's just say that after years of metaphorical drought, a little rain isn't going to hurt.

No matter how dark the skies become.... 

It is only temporary. It is only passing clouds.....

And here it comes....

I raise my eyes to the sky, wondering if I will be soaked,

And find that I don't really care.

Indeed, it is welcome.  Life had become parched, and had withered like the plants in the dry fields.  

So when the sky lightens and the clouds begin to break up, I can see clearly....

And, like the symbols they have become, scarlet poppies wave across the resting fields,

Ox-eye daisies open up to face  the sun,

Under blue, sunny skies,

And I feel like singing (to myself.....)

Walk on through the wind

Walk on through the rain

For your dreams be tossed and blown

Walk on, walk on

With hope in your heart

And you'll never walk alone

You'll never walk alone

Richard Rodgers and 

Oscar Hammerstein II

I think I can make it now the pain is gone

All of the bad feelings have disappeared

Here is that rainbow I've been praying for

It's gonna be a bright (Bright), bright sun shiny day

I can see clearly now; the rain is gone

I can see all obstacles in my way

Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind

It's gonna be a bright, bright sun shiny day

It's gonna be a bright, bright sun shiny day

Johnny Nash

I Can See Clearly Now

Walsingham

 The Full Stained Glass

A roundel of medieval glass in the north window
of St Mary's and All Saints, Walsingham

There was a time, I will admit, when my glass may occasionally have been half empty.  It happens.....

But today I have been blessed with the other half.  There's nothing to regret - nothing to forget - I have been here before, and my last visit to Walsingham was with my dear, lost Amanda, and we walked here and there and enjoyed the countryside and all that:

Amanda at Walsingham on July 24th, 2021

Amanda loved her god, and walking, and  I know she would be happy for me to back here, and in good company.

Courtesy of The Norfolk Churches Trust I am here for A Day out in Walsingham - Seen Through Stained Glass and 4 Churches, led by Scilla Landale, a knowledgeable and enthusiastic guide.

The day starts in the Orangery of the Anglican Shrine, where Scilla gives an illustrated talk about the history of Walsingham, using images from the various glass artists (who include Trena Cox, John Hayward, Paul San Casciani, Geoffrey Webb, and Michael Coles)  who have contributed to the phoenix-like revitalisation of the town, following the post-reformation doldrums. 

Noah's Ark
Glass in the Pilgrims Shelter of the Modern Shrine

In my book, Starting from Snettisham, that I published last year (for charity), I had a page on Walsingham, and wrote this:

In 1061 [Richeldis de Faverches] the widow of the lord of the manor of Walsingham Parva had three visions of the Virgin Mary who spiritually transported her to the place of the Annunciation in Nazareth and asked her to construct a copy of the holy house. 

The original shrine, by Michael Coles
In the Milner Wing Tower

Since then, Walsingham became venerated as one of the holiest places in England, and it was the duty, in late Medieval times, for every Englishman to visit Walsingham at least once in his life.

In the 12th century an Augustinian Priory was founded here, and later a Franciscan Friary was established. 

The Franciscan Friary

Walsingham was one of the four great shrines of medieval christianity, along with Jerusalem, Rome and Santiago de Compostela. Royalty came here, including Henry III (twelve times) and Henry VIII (twice), which is perhaps ironic since it was his dissolution of the monasteries and the Reformation that left the Priory in ruins and ended the lucrative pilgrimage trade, following the repression of the Pilgrimage of Grace in 1537.

However, much of the past remains, and there are many half-timbered Tudor buildings here

The pump house in Common Place

 

as well as the beautiful Arch in the Abbey [actually only called an abbey long after its dissolution] grounds. 

Practically all that is left of the Priory
(the stone was used for other buildings)

In the late Victorian period pilgrims returned to the Slipper Chapel a mile south of the village, where you will now find the Roman Catholic National Shrine of Our Lady. 

The Slipper Chapel
The first modern pilgrimage came here on August 20th, 1897

Then in the 1930s the Anglican vicar of Walsingham [Father Alfred Hope Patten] built a new shrine containing a modern holy house. 

The modern Anglican shrine
Set up by Fr Alfred Hope Patten in the 1930s

Nowadays over a quarter of a million pilgrims visit Walsingham every year, and it is also a popular holiday destination, with good bus links as well as the Wells to Walsingham Light Railway which runs every day during the summer months. In February the grounds here are carpeted with Snowdrops.

Sorry, no snowdrops just now, so woodbine will have to do.....

After the talk, we have a brief lunch break, and the Black Lion Hotel does us proud.  Another feature of pilgrimage.....  

Then, with a light sprinkling of rain, Scilla takes us on a walking tour of the Georgian market town and  its various religious buildings. 

In the Pilgrims Shelter, in the Anglican Shrine, we see the story of Noah's Ark: 

Next stop is St Mary and All Saints, the parish church of Little Walsingham, 

which has been reconstructed after a devastating fire in 1961, with clear glass for the most part, except for the East window, a bravura feature by John Hayward, which incorporates surviving pieces of stained glass from before the fire, and depicts, among others, Our Lady of Walsingham, various other saints, and the story of the church.

We then visit the Roman Catholic Church of the Annunciation, also a complete reconstruction:

This church has a dramatic stained glass north window by Paul San Casciani:

The window is the background to a life-size crucifix, behind the altar, over which hangs a vast crown of thorns.

The design incorporates the outline of a fish pointing heavenwards, implying the resurrection.  I am informed that the white and yellow colours are achieved by using a background textured white glass spread with golden rays, the tints created since medieval times by the application of silver oxide to the back of the glass before firing.  The red that is seen through the aperture below Christ's feet is painted with a pattern of the shapes of greatly magnified blood corpuscles.  The effect of the whole is very moving, even to philistines like me.....

Our last stop is at the old railway station, sacrificed to the motor vehicle by Marples and Beeching in 1966. 

Apart from the small onion dome on the roof, this building is unremarkable from the outside.  However, inside, the ticket office and gentleman's waiting room were converted in 1967 into a pan-orthodox chapel, dedicated to St Seraphim.  This is one of three orthodox chapels in Walsingham (pilgrimages to Marian centres are not restricted to any denomination) and is a gem.  The traditional icons were painted by members of the brotherhood of St Seraphim, who came to Walsingham from London in the sixties.

Though there is more to see in Walsingham, our guided tour is over.  It has been a most interesting day.  Thank you, Scilla Landale and The Norfolk Churches Trust.  I almost feel I have earned a scallop shell:

And I certainly appreciate the concept of pilgrimage a little more now, though, having been familiar with Chaucer for many years, it isn't completely new to me.  Regrettably I have no faith, but I understand the point of taking a break from the routines of daily life to travel to a significant place.  Not only may it lead to some kind of transformation, it has social and health benefits.  People mix and learn from each other, and share experience and entertainment.  Just think of the Knight listening to The Miller's Tale, or the Clerk of Oxenford enjoying The Wife of Bath's Tale....

The practice of pilgrimage (peregrination) goes back way beyond the life of Jesus, but is also common to many different cultures and religions.  Today (June 6th, 2025) for example is the third day of the Hajj, which will end on June 9th in Mecca.

I guess it is just a shame that while the theory of each pilgrimage is essentially peaceful, would it not be something of an improvement if these things were not sectarian?

Just a thought...... 

Peace on earth

and goodwill to all.

*******

If you would be interested in a guided tour of Walsingham, please contact Scilla Landale (Blue Badge Guide) by email (Scilla.landale@afiweb.net) or on her mobile (07747 693235) or look up www.walsinghamvillage.org/see-do/guided-tours-of-walsingham

And, separately, if you would like a copy of my book, Starting from Snettisham, which is a 72 page full colour introduction to some of the attractions of North-west Norfolk, please contact me directly.  It is sold (at £12 plus p&p) in support of The Friends of St Mary's, Snettisham, and the National Brain Appeal.

richardpgibbs@aol.com

Mixed up confusion

Sweet Thames Run Softly

It started well.  The day dawned fine, and Grosvenor Square was tranquil, though the strangely wrapped figure of Dwight David Eisenhower outside the Qatari remake of the US Embassy seemed an ominous portent:

Anyway, in one of the Halcyon Galleries on Bond Street I get a glimpse of early Hockney, where the women come and go:

And across the way Bob Dylan exposes his inner Marlborough Man with a little less finesse than Bradford Davey:

And then I work my way through the streets of Soho, past traces of earlier communications, now repositories of today's excess:

I note that Pink seems to be the in colour today, whether on your rickshaw:

Or with a casual glass of wine while trading al fresco:

Or as part of your biker gear:

Or if you are Queen for the day:

Then, where Kipling once lodged, I pass one of my favourite haunts, though now it's hard to get a seat:

With my special dragon bike I take a pedal up the river to Richmond and beyond, where the sun is out:

And a heron fishes, the cycle of life:

And where, in the 18th century, George II lodged Henrietta Howard, his mistress, in Palladian splendour, another cycle of life.

It is hot now, but the Sweet Thames runs softly, 

So I took her sailing on the river (Flow sweet river, flow),

From Putney Bridge to Nine Elms Reach
We cheek to cheek were dancing
Her necklace made of London Bridge
Her beauty was enhancing

Ewan MacColl

But this is where things start to go wrong.  The heat. The after effects of gothic strawberries, the press and confusion of London Town; even if it is French:

We dine upstairs, the food, the drink, the company, the wine, the digestifs.....

It may be my daughter's birthday, but the confusion is beginning to set in, my pulse beat racing, 

Well, there’s too many people

And they’re all too hard to please

Well, my head’s full of questions

My temperature’s rising fast

Well, I’m looking for some answers

But I don’t know who to ask

Bob Dylan

Mixed-Up Confusion

And so it goes......

But then, despite the gentle musings of Ewan MacColl, and the ebb and flow of Old Father Thames (without which, London would not be) I sink into oblivion, exhausted by the heat and confusion of the city. I long to be back in the calm of Norfolk, even though this yearning is a two-edged blade. I trip from MacColl to Edmund Spenser, and look to Prothalamion for solace, those sixteenth century lines like a cool gauze across my brow:

CALM was the day, and through the trembling air 

Sweet breathing Zephyrus did softly play, 

A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay 

Hot Titan's beams, which then did glister fair;

And at dawn it is quiet now.  Oxford Street so near a desert:

Tottenham Court Road a pedestrian dream:

And all the fowl which in his flood did dwell 

Gan flock about these twain, that did excel 

The rest so far as Cynthia doth shend 

The lesser stars. So they, enranged well, 

Did on those two attend, 

And their best service lend, 

Against their wedding day, which was not long: 

Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

Edmund Spenser

Prothalamion

And, waking, as if from a confused state, I walk through Gordon Square, and hear a voice:

Love's gift cannot be given, it waits to be accepted.

Rabindranath Tagore

But I’m walking and wondering

And my poor feet don’t ever stop

Seeing my reflection

I’m hung over, hung down, hung up!

Bob Dylan

Mixed-Up Confusion

*****

The nymphs are departed.

T S Eliot

The Waste Land

*****

To unwind, please see Christy Moore, with 

Sinéad O'Connor and Neill MacColl, singing Ewan MacColl's Sweet Thames Flow Softly....

https://youtu.be/Tgwtl-s0CNI