Stained Glass and Cut Grass

Hello Friends!

I plucked up courage and went inside a church this week for the first time in over 14 months.  You will be shocked that it was not the Cathedral, I'm sure, but I have my reasons, and it was all very carefully planned.

As some of you know, I recently lost a very dear friend, suddenly and unexpectedly.  We had no warning, no time to say goodbye.  She had been on my mind for a few days and I'd been meaning to phone her, but I didn't and now it's too late.   I wanted to light a candle for her, which is something I do on times such as this, and especially as I cannot attend her funeral.  As I say, it was carefully planned, yet despite the planning I still panicked when I got there.

The walk down was delightful, it makes me want to sing out loud {I assure you that this would not be a good thing, so I restrained myself}; not too hot; a perfect blue sky; calm with a gentle spring breeze and enough sway for the Cow Parsley and grasses to dance delightfully in tune with my steps.  Every step I put in front of the other was made with a grateful heart full of joy in honour of a beautiful day, and remembering my friend who enjoyed this part of the world so much.  We've been blessed with some delightful weather of late, if a trifle cold, but hatches are battened for the coming days which bring change.

The reason I picked the Chapel of Our Lady and Saint Non, which sits on a high clifftop, overlooking Saint Bride's Bay and the wild Atlantic Ocean is that it would, hopefully, be much less busy than the more popular Cathedral, and right now the Cathedral is operating on a timed ticket only entry system.  I did not want to take up an entry slot just to light a candle.  That seemed a little selfish to do.

This chapel was built in 1934 and stands in the grounds of Saint Non's Retreat.

I left my cottage early, purposely to make an attempt to avoid too many other people.  I encountered a couple of coast path walkers who turned right on to the coast path, not headed the same way I was headed, so I was okay!  

I arrived to find the door slightly ajar, and I put on my mask, as required, and gelled my hands with sanitiser.  It is all arranged inside in accordance with current guidelines. I brought my own matches from home to avoid touching their lighter, and I lit the candle carefully, as alcohol based hand sanitiser is flammable!  

As I was on my own, I took the opportunity to take a few photos; they are not brilliant as they're on my phone, and by now I was starting to panic a bit.  I noticed a small card on the altar, it contained a prayer for our deliverance from the Pandemic.  I stood by the altar and read it aloud.

The stained glass over the altar did not come out, but it shows Saint Non.

The four windows are of:

Saint Bride

Saint Winifred

Saint Brynach

Saint David

As you emerge from the dark interior, you are greeted by the most magnificent view of the coastline, facing south and west.  You get an idea of how near the coast path this precious little chapel sits.

Before heading home, a last look back at the Chapel

Near the {open, no touching needed} gate, the ox eye daisies flower in grand profusion. 

and further along, on the flat edge of the path, are spikes of pennywort, which I've never seen on the ground, only growing up a wall.

My heart leaped with joy when I spotted my first flowering foxglove spike of the year, but sadly there was a group of breakfast picnickers sitting just a little bit too close to it for me to get a photo.  Still, it brings hope that soon more will follow!

The fields that line the road are no longer the lush, verdant green of recent weeks, rather they are now the colour of pale, golden straw, for they have been mowed in the last day or two for a cut of silage.

Until next time

Stay Safe, Stay Well