My regular Fakenham walk and the beauty of our churches
In his weekly Wensum column, Fakenham correspondent Jim Harding enjoys a walk through the town…
After some days away from my regular walk down to the three brick arches bridge and onwards beside the river into town, I got back into the groove. It was a cool and cloudy morning but free of rain - always a blessing. The old railway line was familiar but the thick covering of leaves on the section towards the bridge a different and more comfortable feeling beneath the boots.
No-one was about which suited me fine. I stopped at the bridge, hoping to see some wildlife on the adjacent fields but the best I could manage was some sheep in the distance. Hardly wildlife. Previously the presence of birds of prey could almost be guaranteed but although I've often sighted buzzards and kites these days, the delightful kestrels have been absent for many months. Where have they all gone, I wonder?
Descending to the river path I could hear plenty of squawking calls from crows and the like but the more familiar swans and mallards on the water seemed to have taken a break. There had been gales over the recent days and evidence of this was apparent when I came to a tree which had been blown over, blocking the way. I thought about crouching under it to get through but then decided to climb over and managed this without too much difficulty.
Further along, a much bigger tree had come down and, from a distance, looked likely to provide more of a challenge. Maybe I would even have to turn back. Closer to, I could see that others had found a way through by pushing back branches and creating a reasonable 'path', so I followed suit. All part of the fun.
On the other side of the river, preparations were going ahead on the race course for the forthcoming Christmas meeting, which always attracts a big crowd. One of the pleasures for me as I get nearer to town is the sight of the parish church tower in the distance. As with so many other medieval churches built across our relatively flat region, these towers have always been symbolic beacons rising well above whatever surrounds them. I've often stood in the shadow of Fakenham's tower and looked upwards, marvelling at the stonework and the workmanship it must have taken to build such an imposing structure all those centuries ago.
Mind you, I still prefer to admire from ground level than from the top, not having much of a head for heights. The views from up there, of course, are splendid but I can't help feeling a bit nervous whenever I climb the stairs. Which is rare these days.
We should value our ancient churches much more than we do. Many are allowed to crumble down the years as they're expensive to maintain. and often neglected. Overseas visitors, in particular, marvel at these ancient survivors, perhaps more so than we do.
We were married in a very ancient church in the hamlet of Westhall, not far from the better-known town of Halesworth down in Suffolk and I delighted in the fact that the rood screen there, dating from 1512, contained an image of St. James wearing the garb of a pilgrim. A few years prior I had cycled the pilgrimage to Santiago in north west Spain from the Pyrenees during a vacation period from Borough Road College.
The cathedral there is reputed to be the resting place of St. James and annually attracts thousands of pilgrims, most of whom walk their way to reach this magnificent building in the heart of Santiago de Compostella. So many medieval churches are home to significant treasures which deserve to be retained and remembered for present and future generations.
