I'm hoping Monday will be the start of a long stretch of cycling and the weather will start to look and feel more like the spring we expect.
While waiting for the weather to turn I've been sorting photographs from the trips of last year, the raw fen farmland, the villages often very small and hidden from sight and the churches that stand tall above the land of marshes and fens. While looking through and editing many many pictures some interesting subjects came to mind. One is the huge and often very elaborately decorated timber church doors, often oak and wearing what can only be described as the most amazing ironwork, in most cases made centuries ago. It's funny, as I've mentioned before I visit these great stone houses not because I'm a religious man, in fact like a lot of people normally I would only enter a church for family weddings or funerals, but because I adore the craftsmanship on display. In the case of these beautiful doors, I often think of those who made them, the carpenters who used saw, chisels and hand plane to work the planks and carve the elaborate frames and the blacksmiths who formed the great bolts, handles and hinges plus the huge rose-head nails that give the timbers their strength.
Maybe next time you walk past your village church you will just take a few minutes to look at the hard work that went into building them, all by craftsmen who were paid a pittance for their efforts.
