Combe St Nicholas, Isle Abbots, Huish Episcopi and West Camel

Heading down in a similar direction to the Dorset day out, we set out to our furthest point, Combe St Nicholas in Somerset, with the intention of heading back and stopping off at various points between here and north of Yeovil.

First stop Combe St Nicholas, which is in rather pleasing, hilly countryside.  The outside doors were ominously shut but luckily for us, none of the churches we visited were closed that day. Once inside the church, we were immediately faced with the creature we had travelled to see.  On the right hand side as you enter the building, what can only be described as a cow type creature looked down at us from atop a column. It was quite chunky with a definite square-faced, cow type mouth and nose, and cowy ears. From its mouth came lines of swirling pattern that looped round and about, ending in a sort of hand shape, or flower.  The carved swirling lines are a familiar design, but never before seen emanating from a cow.

Onwards to Isle Abbots / Isle Abbotts, a village nestled so deeply in the countryside that I thought we would never get there. It was almost Melbury Bubb all over again (minus the rain) as I tried unsuccessfully to figure out which of the tiny white roads (on the road map) we were now on. They never seem to correspond to what is in front of you. My sister did well to spot roadsigns as they were nestled in the growth of summer foliage, and mostly hidden from view. We thought if the Germans had landed there in the war, they would have been completely flummoxed.  Eventually we found it and had our lunch on a handy bench. The tower was huge, as were many in that area - a sign of the wealth, no doubt. Inside a delightful sandy-coloured font, four sides, the one facing us showing a rather curious creature, upside down.

Each side has a different pattern on it, quite worn, but we deciphered some animals and different patterns. I found the upside-down creature fascinating: to me it honestly looked most like a dolphin - an unsual creature for a font design, but not beyond the realms of possibility. If someone had seen one on his travels (we are not that far from water) then he might have wanted to depict it for others. It was upside down, yet none of the other sides were, making me think this was how the person had seen the creature. Perhaps leaping out of the sea. It had the bulbous head of a dolphin, with a beaky nose, and no legs but a streamlined body which ended in a sort of tail. I'm convinced anyway. Either that or it was an alien.  Or a lizard. On the other sides we made out a sort of bird and a rather fetching wyvern, most interestingly shown between/behind a column design - quite an unusual feature to show something behind something else like this.

External factors meant we were glad to reach our third stop, Huish Episcopi - so called, apparently after "hiwisc" (house) in OE, and episcopi - to do with the Bishop of Wells. St Mary's church has a very fine example of a carved door, with the added delight of its reddish brown colour, possibly the result of a fire. The door had very chunky zigzag arches, with interesting designs around the top. There were two tiny creature heads on either side, and some fabulous columns with leaves and patterns at the top. A fine example. I'm glad to say that we no longer attempt madly to draw the whole thing, as was once the case when we began on these quests, but now realise that it is only possible to draw a detail or two.  Inside the church was a rather impressive window, with a lot of angels' wings and striking reds. It reminded me of the windows by Burne Jones in Birmingham cathedral. I didn't say anything at the time but it turns out the window is by Burne Jones. Fancy that!

Moving on from Huish Episcopi, we headed back towards home and decided to squeeze in a trip to

West Camel. This time we knew where it was having been on our last trip but not having had the nerve to interrupt a singing session that was taking place inside. This time however it was open and empty and we were delighted to see not just a lovely font with pleasing archway design, but one of the finest Anglo Saxon carved stones we have had the pleasure to see. This one had pride of place up by the altar, and is nicely secure. It had two sides carved with intricate and still well defined knotwork and interlacing patterns. One side definitely had two snake/dragon heads at the end of the intertwining bits. The other side might have had but the ends were more worn. It is definitely one of the best preserved pieces we have come across. And impossible to know where to begin to draw. Especially at the end of the day when we were tired. But I did an "impression" of it which was really a cop out, but it might be fun to try and do some artwork from the photos. I pondered on how they would have done the original - you would have to have had a sketch as you could easily go wrong with the under/over alternation between the patterns.

  

Snailing

I have been enjoying another blog called Taxonomic Collections where you can learn all about different British species, such as seaweed and snails. I was particularly taken by the pages on finding snails, which seemed to live in all sorts of habitats - and so hopefully should be easy to find. I was lucky enough to go out "snailing" as I called it, ie looking for snails, with the writer of the blog.

Having read the advice in those pages, I knew that looking for snails is not glamorous but involves searching under foliage, in cracks in rocks, turning over leaf litter and poking around in places that involve mud and damp. I was prepared: walking boots, warm clothing and small plastic pots to keep our finds in.  I was not disappointed. In a nature reserve on the Somerset/Wiltshire border, we managed to find many snail shells of various shapes and sizes. At this time of year, actual living snails were not to be seen, but there were shells aplenty. Being a complete snail novice, I was amazed by how many different types there are and how varied the patterns and sizes. What was most surprising was the tiny weeny snail shells - at first I could not even spot them but after a bit of time snailing I got my eye in and could spot a shell just a few millimetres across. I had no idea so many species are so tiny fully grown, and that snail shells can be different shapes, including long, thin ones a bit like a grain of rice. I found a larger brown snail, which my sister said was probably a Roman snail. "So," I said, my brain a bit slow in the cold weather, "Were the Romans round here then?" Behind us in the valley was the city of Bath, rather a big clue.

We put our shells in a secure pot in order to identify them back home.  It helps if you can make a note of where you found it which will aid your identification later. We also saw an array of colourful fungi along the way including some bright red "Elves' cups" which really do look like the elves use them to drink from.

Back at the house, we looked at the tiny shells under the microscope. What a world in miniature that opens up! You simply cannot appreciate the beauty of the shells with the naked eye. Details like ridges, stripes and colour come to life and I was drawn into the snails' world. We used a key to try and identify the type of snail.  I like that part, as you work through each section of the key and identify whether the snail has the feature it mentions. If yes, you move on to another number. If no, you are directed to another place. If you are able to do this accurately (and I expect it depends on the key and the amount of detail you can see) then you hopefully end up at the correct snail species. My sister gave me an easy-to-identify one to start with and I was hugely pleased to end up at the correct species.  I wanted to go through all of them but I think that might have meant overstaying my welcome. One tiny rice-grain shape shell was hard to identify with the key we had, but my sister has since identified using another source.

Who would have thought snails could be so fascinating. And they are out there, waiting to be appreciated! Only last night someone on a lovely quiet programme about Scotland was saying, If you can find something that absorbs you it is the best way to relax. I found hunting for and identifying snails very absorbing; it was immensely satisfying and relaxing to be out in nature, noticing and appreciating small things, but in fact all these small things are the very essence of life and for me are the only things worth appreciating. It brings things into perspective. It is a bit like mindfulness meditation, where you focus on the breath, on the here and now.  When your brain is busy at work or worrying about the entire world and its problems, it is hard to function well. But if you can centre yourself and take in your surroundings, it helps to calm and stabilise you. I need to stay connected to the natural world, the rhythm of the seasons, nature's cycle, as it grounds me and connects me to everything. Snailing is just one fun way to do this!

In and around Bath

After stopping off for vital supplies at the art shop, and breakfast at Waitrose, we headed to local areas around Bath, as it was not a great day weatherwise, with a constant drizzle of rain as if we were sitting in a cloud. (We were). Visibility was poor and it didn't seem sensible to go trundling off too far.  Armed with our usual snacks, first stop was Charlcombe, the most delightful little church set up on one of Bath's hills, above a garden and St Alphege's Well.

The one problem with font-ing in this season is that there was no light and churches seem intent on saving electricity (who can blame them) as there are only minimal lights for visitors. You can see lights up above but no switches, so perhaps only the vicar has the key for these. It makes visiting on a dull day rather a dark affair and we were literally peering through the gloom all day. But luckily with the front door propped open we could just about see the delights of Charlcombe font, a real gem, which impressed me the second I opened the door. It is a lovely shape, with an interesting and unusual design set around the bottom. I took to calling the swirly bits "chelsea buns" and then there were definite mushroom designs between these. All rather deeply carved, which was accentuated by the light which fell on it.  We had to peer closely to draw it. The best thing about the font was that it was from one piece of stone and that it had an original stem and base! I do not even recall the last time we saw this as usually the base is later and the font bowl has been put on top. It was for me an absolute delight to see a whole, unaltered font. It somehow made such a connection to the past because the whole thing was as it had been from its creation.  Apparently the writers Henry Fielding and Jane Austen both visited the church (Fielding was married there. I often think if I got married I would use it as an excuse to have a nice font at the back of the room and to make this a focal point for the guests. "Now, if everyone can please admire the font.")

We stepped carefully through the wet grass of the garden on the slope below and found St Alphege's Well (on the hunt for moss again for other purposes). It had atmosphere in such a secluded setting, with the trees dripping around us, and apparently the water was good for eyes, so I doused my lids in the hope that I will no longer have to wear glasses. So far, no change.

Next stop was Langridge, where we have been before and I did remember it once I was there. The columns in the porch are lovely with some fine spirals, always fun to draw. There was also an arch of saltire crosses, or were they circles with shapes in that then formed saltire crosses where they met? I don't know if there is a difference. Inside there is a very impressive arch with much zigzagging and we noted some new things this time: two feet-like carvings at the bottom of columns and also two arch ends that looked like they could have been the start of dragons, they really did - we could see the faint line of where a mouth or teeth would be, as if the carver had been going to start dragons and then been called away or the church said, no, don't bother, those zigzags are more than enough.  See, we really are like Antiques Roadshow experts now.

Finally we finished in the small hillside village of Swainswick; again, somewhere I remember going in times before we drew. I did not remember a most unusual feature inside the church, which was a kitchen area. I jokingly asked my sister if she wanted a cup of tea, and then saw to my surprise that the church provided free tea and coffee for walkers and visitors. What an innovation. If more churches had kitchens, this would be ideal. It felt really kind.  I remembered a strange corner of the church where there was a weird bit of carving - a long piece of fish/finger/weird things like eels all coming out of the wall. Didn't really care for it then and didn't care for it this time either. There was a weird head, a roll of carpet on a famous Bath architect's memorial tablet, and some heads in the porch. I drew one of them - it had an okay expression, but turned more into a halloween mask in my drawing.

Dinder, Doulting, Chesterblade, Holcombe, Leigh on Mendip

Back on the road and this time we ventured into Somerset, out towards Shepton Mallet area. First stop was Dinder, where we found some creatures who were possibly dragon heads, like we have seen before, but on closer inspection seemed more like dogs. They definitely had dog noses, and no dragons' teeth, and pointy ears. So dogs they were. A knowledgeable and interested woman who was helping out in the church took the time to talk to us about them and seemed genuinely interested in art. Not one of these people who can't understand why we are drawing them. Which was a nice change.  The dogs had been rescued from somewhere and had been placed end to end over a window, so that they were not in the usual dragon door arch position. They were quite pleasing, as was the pretty and hidden village of Dinder (despite "no turning" notices where there was really no need. We turned anyway, at speed).

St Aldhelm's well

When we finally got to Doulting (because I was once again too slow to signal the turning), we investigated the church (some unusual capitals in the foyer) and then made our way down a slope to a spring, St Aldhem's well.  Surprisingly it was a busy spot as two cars came to fill up a variety of vessels with the holy water while we were there.  I learned to recognise a liverwort (there were some fine examples) and there was some moss as well. The water was (although it is a cliche) crystal clear, quite remarkably so, and being a holy well I had to sample the water. It tasted slightly minerally but not unpleasant. The water poured out from a hidden and peaceful channel at the back, through into a deep animal trough, which I thought was nice. It was pleasing to think of cattle and horses drinking from the holy spring.

Chesterblade

On to Chesterblade, a tiny, quiet spot with nice views over the hills. The church was small and cute and had a pleasingly tub shaped font. Very appealing. We examined it in detail, as a church leaflet made out it had once had a carved band around the middle. There was a slight discolouration in the stone there at about that spot, but neither of us could see evidence that it had been chipped away or bring ourselves to believe that anyone would have gone to such trouble. Now, convinced we are like experts on the Antiques Roadshow who have seen enough examples of something to recognise things by sight, we did not know of any example of anyone defacing a font in this way and for no obvious reason. So we concluded the chap who drew the font with the band on it had either embellished it himself or got confused with another font (as it is easy to do if you do not write down where you have been). Either way it was rather bizarre and my sister was right to question. Do not believe everything just because it is written down. If we have learnt one thing, it is surely that.   The doorway had two lovely capitals, one a face, with unusually prominent ears, and the other a very pleasing swirly design which on reflection reminds me of a Walnut Whip.  There were also two tiny faces, which proved harder to draw than bigger ones.  Oh and apparently we missed a lamb of god, outside. Our favourite. But sometimes you just get overloaded.

Holcombe Old Church

Next stop (it is remarkable afterwards how long we keep going for), in the quiet spot of Holcombe Old Church, down a lane out of the way and a really peaceful place if you are going to be buried somewhere.  A load of ducks were nearby as we could hear raucous quacking from somewhere. They always sound like they're laughing at something.  Holcombe had a rather appealing porch archway, with a two twirly columns and a really nice interwoven design which could be good for inspiration for making something one day.  I liked how we are now so confident in our churchyard environment we just moved a bench and sat in front of it to draw - well it is tiring to stand all the time - and of course no one came and said, what are you doing, anyway. It was too out the way.

On the way back we squeezed in one final stop (well, it seems worth it when you still have some energy) at Leigh on Mendip. The font here was a simple two-scallop design that reminded both of us of a bottom - it had that pleasing shape about it, it has to be said. There was a little bit of embellishment on the curved corners, but overall it was quite a chunky and cheeky font.

Compton Martin, Blagdon and Cheddar Gorge

Another trip into Somerset found us heading West to Compton Martin. The church, St Michael, is one of the best examples of Norman architecture in the county, and it was packed full of carved capitals, a very nice swirly column, figureheads and a Norman font. I drew a cat-like figurehead high up on one wall and attempted to draw the chunky zigzag pattern which went around the top of the font. This proved to be a real challenge in observing what was actually there, instead of my brain taking over and trying to make it up without looking (which is what usually happens).

As we continued west, we drove past two man-made lakes in the Chew Valley region - the whole area is very picturesque and we stopped to look at some wild fowl on the water. We both liked Blagdon, and after one aborted attempt, managed to find four tiny Norman heads set in the wall near the altar. They were all smiling.

Out past Blagdon we drove through Cheddar Gorge (very impressive, but heaving with tourists) and also the Mendip hills. Although I did not do much drawing, it was interesting to see the very different scenery of Somerset.

Blagdon

Somerset wanderings

As we have done a lot of exploring in Wiltshire, we decided to head off into the wilds of Somerset. It may just be over the border but we both agreed that the geography and feel of the county is noticeably different to Wiltshire. I even admit I felt as if we were in a strange place, not so sure of ourselves.

Our first stop was Tellisford, a small place where it felt like locals were eyeing us warily as if they knew we were not villagers. The church was down a small mossy lane and in the front porch were two interesting heads either side of the door. I drew one with a strange beard.

Beckington was our next stop: here we found some creatures high up on the inside of the church walls, quite amusing but a bit high up to draw or see properly. The church blurb described them as lions, but given the obvious and celebrated history of the wool trade that the village had (visible on many church pictures), we thought they were more likely to be lambs. They had fluffy looking coats.

Then we headed to a place we have been before, but in the days when we were not drawing as a matter of course. Lullington is another sweet village, with an amazing door now at the back of the church, surrounded by fabulous beakheads (beaky creatures) of all descriptions. It also has a tympanum of two animal figures, carved capitals with figures and much, much more. I entertained myself by trying to capture some of the beakheads, though my cold was putting me off.

We ended the trip with a stop at Limpley Stoke. As you enter the church, the middle of the building as it is now is an amazing Saxon door, which was originally an entrance to the church on an outside wall. It was used by Saxon pilgrims making their way to Glastonbury.  In the solid narrow doorway are carved cross shapes which the pilgrims made.  It feels like a special place to stand, given that centuries ago you know people were passing through it. Its nature as a doorway gives you a real sense of stepping from one time to another. Here, if anywhere, would be the place you could walk through and find yourself in another time.