Inspiration

P A R T   1

It's the time of year.... the shadows in the valley are lengthening, as we gently tip into Autumn now. It's Sunday evening and rain is sweeping across the south-west - we are drenched, but warm and cosy by our evening fire.  It's been a busy two weeks since my last post - Charlie and I are in the thick of packing, and then... there's been the small matter of bringing my new book, 'An English Vision', to the world!

But there is always time for the morning walk around the valley - a couple of weeks ago, in sparkling sunshine, clouds and light and shadow scudding across the land.

The crab apple tree is in full fettle but I don't know that Charlie will have time to make a final batch of jelly before we leave. Time will tell!

Evening light is particularly magical just now.

Talking of packing, here is Charlie's flower room AFTER he has spent several days clearing and getting rid of things, with many trips to our local junk auction and to charity shops.  A bit of a task to go...

The next day I was back to London. In search of a lime green bike I was reminded just how incredible the little streets around Waterloo Station are.

I've been taking a lot of photos of London terraces in the slanting light of September these last few weeks.

This is early on Tuesday morning, a couple of weeks ago. Charlie and I were having some friends to dinner in the flat to celebrate the book. Flowers and vegetables coming up from the garden to London, here in our hallway at the art workers guild....

More slanting sunlight...

And in the flat that evening, waiting for everyone to arrive!

And after everyone had gone home! 

Flowers everywhere...

Behind the scenes - book signings. Thank you so much for so many INCREDIBLE orders to the shop.  It's kept me very busy!  We are dispatching new copies every day now.   It's been amazing to see how the sales are doing, but more gratifying still to see some really lovely comments on instagram from people who are enjoying reading the book.... thank you!

 

P A R T   2

Back to Dorset for the weekend - early, last Saturday, birds wheeling in a pale morning sky.

Incredible early light in the garden.

Charlie's veg garden is so amazingly beautiful, and look at the mist on the hills.

Morning walk as the sun shone.

Decorating the church for our last ever Harvest festival.

Sunday dawned wet and grey, but still beautiful.

The church was looking beautiful, as always.

We had a riotous village lunch, which lasted all evening long. What a farewell...

 

A small postscript. Many of the readers of the blog contributed with great generosity to our window restoration project some two or three years ago now. It has taken a LOT of work to get to the final start of the project, getting approval for these works through the Church of England is little short of Byzantine, but we got there. And works are starting very soon. Dan Humphries is our stained glass restorer and Simon Crumbleholme the builder.  Of course, I will not be here to chart progress but I am sure our lovely neighbours Jim and Nic will send us regular updates which I can post here.  The works will all be complete by next summer, and we'll be coming back for a service of celebration when complete.  The roof is done, the windows will soon be done, the church will be in magnificent shape for decades to come, although doubtless other needs will arise.  But thank you again from the bottom of my heart for your generosity - it made all the difference in getting this project across the line.

 

P A R T   3

The next day I was up to London early.  Not the easiest train to catch after the fun the day before!  More brilliant sunshine and dark, menacing storm clouds.

I was up to Scotland that afternoon, and back two days later, for a brilliant conference on the best ways to develop new housing, led by the King's Foundation and hosted at the new town of Chapelton near Aberdeen - an inspiring day, but I haven't included photographs because this blog is long enough already!

It was the busiest week... the following day was the launch party for the book, which we held at the beautiful National Portrait Gallery.

Here I am at the foot of the staircase!

Setting up - manic but incredible.

Brilliant Emily and Beatrice from the shop getting ready for an evening of signing and sales...

Here was me later.  I don't have any other photos but there were many on instragram which gave a wonderful flavour, I think!

 

P A R T   4

Back to Dorset.  Relief.  More lengthening shadows.... the landing at sunset.

A beautiful morning yesterday, the best of autumn.

The cricket ground was filled with thousands of house martins, hurtling around in the warm sunshine. They will be migrating soon. 

We were off on an adventure with Charlie's dad Gordon, who's been staying with us for the last few weeks, doing sterling work helping with the packing, and enjoying many trips to the Bridport dump in between book launches!

We were going to Ashburton, Devon, in homage to Ashburton, New Zealand - where the McCormicks live - but particularly then on to Manaton, a tiny hamlet north of Ashburton. on the edge of Dartmoor.  The McCormick family farm is called Manaton.  They were not the first farmers there (although they HAVE been there for over 100 years, which is no mean feat in New Zealand farming...) so no-one quite knows the connection - but who knows, maybe this blog will suggest some answers?

On the way we managed to call in to a place we have been meaning to go for ever. It was now or maybe never.  The church of St. Candida, Whitchurch Canonicorum (what a beautiful name) which contains the shrine of St. Wite, the Patron Saint of Dorset. 

A beautiful red and yellow notice board greets visitors in the porch. 

Here is the shrine.  It's a beautiful thing.  You leave your notes to St. Wite in the three openings below the tomb - or you could place diseased body parts within the holes to obtain a cure.

This is the only shrine and relics in the country (with the exception of St Edward the Confessor's tomb in Westminster Abbey, and St. Eanswythe in Folkestone) to survive the reformation.  It was good to see this before we left Dorset.

Another beautiful tomb at the altar.

We left this peaceful place and carried on down to Devon...

Lunch with our friends Gabby and Yaniv at beautiful Emilia in Ashburton...

Brilliant sunshine and dark clouds...

And then we went to Manaton, on the moor, and found the beautiful parish church just about to be locked for the night.

This church has another extraordinary survival of the reformation - not quite so rare, admittedly, as the tomb we have just seen, but even so, very special - an original medieval rood screen.

The paintings of the saints on its front have had their faces scratched out....

Gouged with the violence of the iconoclast - what an extraordinary period of history this must have felt like, truly the end of all times.

But the screen survives.  Life does carry on - here we are, five hundred years later, looking at this beautiful carving and painting - and, at history itself.

Here is the little staircase to the rood-loft.

In the opposite corner, a beautiful stained glass window by Sir Frank Brangwyn - strange and unsettling, incredibly powerful.

We left to allow the parishioner to lock up the church, and explored for a little while longer.  This is an ancient feeling place.  Look at this cottage facing on to the churchyard, and the huge yew tree besides.

Amazing lichens with wonderful colours on the gravestones.

The alluring entrance to Manaton Gate, just along from the church.  I wondered if it was from here that a younger son set sail to New Zealand in the 1850s to start his new farm?

We arrived home late and tired and an early supper and bed. Today the skies were grey and cloudy.  Our neighbours Jason & Kate's house tucked into the woods, just glimpsed from the hills above.

The cows seemed to sense a storm, heading to the hedges or the valley bottom.

Tonight, the wind and rain are hurtling down the valley.  We have a fire lit...

And Sibyl is on the sofa beside me,

Mavis on the floor, wedged in next to my foot. Enid is under the ottoman, snoring gently.

Everyone asleep, exhausted, dreaming of the morning to come.