An Easter of hope
It has been a beautiful weekend - I hope you have had a very restful, happy Easter. Spring has arrived in Dorset. The air has been filled with birdsong each morning; the evenings are getting lighter; the garden is bursting with blossom and life again. As we begin to turn a corner from the darkness of the pandemic, it literally and figuratively feels like a time of deep redemption. Sunset on Good Friday.... Charlie's beautiful new garden for growing flowers and veg for the show bench is finished and ready to go. Easter Saturday was cold and breezy.... we went for an early morning spin around the hills. We came back via the church. I wanted to take some photos because this week we are launching a new fundraiser for the church windows. Three years ago, you may remember, we had a huge appeal for our church roof which was in need of complete repair and overhaul, a huge task and a huge sum to raise. The world of this blog and of instagram was incredibly, hugely generous in helping our tiny village here to raise funds to commence the project - and two summers ago, the church roof was beautifully repaired by Simon Crumbleholme, a local builder, and his talented team. Now, we need to repair the windows. We've known about this for some time but last year the Quinquennial Inspection (that is, the church fabric inspection done every five years) has highlighted that the windows are at the moment where they need to be carefully looked after now, or face a much more massive problem in a few years time. The problem is that the stonework is disintegrating; water gets in, the iron fixings are set directly in to the stone, and rust; the lead moves, and more water gets in, and it becomes a self-fuelling problem that spirals out of control. Each window is going to cost about £6000 to overhaul and repair, and there are 5 major windows to tackle. It's a big task. If you've enjoyed this blog over the years, I would be incredibly grateful if you would consider donating any sum, however small or large, to help. I've set up a justgiving page here which would allow you to donate to the window repair fund, and I am also pledging that our the architectural practice is going to donate match funding for whatever we raise. It's such a hard time to ask for anything, but I am just conscious that in our tiny community, where so many people have so many other things on their plate to deal with at the moment, sometimes it's as good - if not better - to reach out to the wider family of friends and readers of the blog, and Charlie's and my followers on instagram - for help when we need it. I hope you won't mind if from time to time over forthcoming weeks I mention this appeal... it's very close to my heart to get these beautiful windows repaired for the decades to come. Later that afternoon we went to visit my clients up in North Dorset at their beautiful house which we're helping them with, and I couldn't resist posting this photo of the ancient garden shed they have uncovered in an overgrown corner of the garden. Magical. We got home in time for sunset. The churchyard, next to our house, is filled with primroses - a magical display this year. Easter flowers in the churchyard. Easter Day dawned bright and clear and cold. After tea (and eggs) in bed, we set off in bright sunshine for a walk... The air was cold and clear. Not quite sure how I managed to snap this moment but it fairly much describes our walks every morning! The sun is still low and slanting at this time of year - revealing the geography of time and place and man on this wonderful landscape. Everything is springing into life. Charlie's flowers on the altar of the church. Breakfast in the garden. It was that warm! We had a fantastic Easter Day, the church was reopened and we held our first service of the year - singing a hymn out in the churchyard. And then up to my brother's family for Easter lunch in the garden - hot, hot sunshine. Back again for an afternoon walk... Animal tracks make this extraordinary pattern of ridges on the edge of the chalk hills... But in the valley we normally walk down, we took a slightly different route, staying on the high ground and looking back west. Majestic hills hang like folds of ancient cloth. And there, which we'd never seen before, the shadow of an old field enclosure, which I presume to be very old indeed. We've walked this way a thousand times, but never from this spot at this time of day at this time of year. New things reveal themselves every time you look. The crab apple tree is about to burst into leaf. In a moment's time, it will be in flower. The blackthorn is out everywhere. And home, to sunset on a magical day. I hope you have had a peaceful Easter - what a year it has been since last Easter. Let us hope the worst is passed and a corner is turned, and that together we can enjoy a beautiful spring and summer. And thank you, in advance, if you are able to make a small donation to the church window fund - I launched the appeal on instagram this evening and the results are already overwhelming.