Gedney church door

click photo to enlarge
In my visits to churches I frequently come across woodwork that dates from the medieval period. Most often this is roof timbers or parts of the seating in the chancel or nave, usually the misericords or the bench ends. Also reasonably common are medieval wooden screens, pulpits, chests, and other smaller pieces. Then there are the doors. One can understand the survival of wood that spends its life in the shelter of the church, but this isn't always the case with doors. Frequently they are open to the weather if  not protected by a porch.

On a recent visit to Gedney church in Lincolnshire I photographed the elaborate medieval south door that is inside a porch. This is a remarkable survivor from the Decorated period of English Gothic i.e. the fourteenth century. The arched structure has solid surrounds and four mullions or buttresses that are decorated with pellets rather in the manner of ballflower. The top of the inserted wicket door has four shields and flowers. Above is a broad band that stretches across the door with a beautifully carved inscription, "Pax Christ sit huic domui et omnibus habitantibus in ea hic requies nostra". My nearly non-existent Latin, augmented by Google translates that as, approximately, "The peace of Christ to all who live here and all who are associated with this house". Some of the metalwork clearly is of the same age, particularly that on the inside.

It may be the contemporaneous porch and the protection it offers that is responsible for the well-preserved state of the door. It has suffered somewhat down the centuries but replaced pieces of wood are few, and even the metal supports added at the bottom of the mullions look very old. Interestingly I often find that woodwork such as this offers a more immediate sense of the past than the much more plentiful stone carving.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: C14 Door, Gedney Church, Lincolnshire
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm (34mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/125 sec
ISO:640
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Hinges and old doors

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Today's photograph shows a detail of the priest's door on the exterior of the chancel of the church of St Andrew at Heckington, Lincolnshire.

The solid oak and the rusted, ornate metal work appear to date from a Victorian restoration, perhaps that done by Charles Kirk in 1867. Readers of this blog will know that in Lincolnshire (and many other parts of Britain) church doors are often considerably older - examples from the fifteenth century are relatively common and those from three or four centuries earlier are still to be found.

Many people imagine that the large, intricate scroll-work of the hinges of such doors are purely ornamental. But, as with the tracery, buttresses moulding, pinnacles etc of Gothic churches the seemingly decorative is fundamentally structural. In the case of the doors there are stiles and rails that fix the pieces of wood together. However, the scrollwork of the hinges provides additional fixing and hence strength to the structure while at the same time beautifying the door. If I were to hazard a guess I'd say that this metalwork has rarely, if ever, been painted. It looks none the worse for it!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4.5
Shutter Speed: 1/100 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Fourteenth century door, Southwell

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In medieval Gothic architecture an arch that is convex below and convex above and sweeps up to a sharp, tapered point is very characteristic of the fourteenth century. Such a form became fashionable at that time and appeared in window tracery, tomb canopies, blind tracery, door surrounds, wooden doors and much else. It is called the "ogee" arch and such an arch is described as "ogival". Another term used to describe this "S" shaped moulding is "cyma recta".

We visited Southwell Minster in Nottinghamshire recently. It is a relatively small major church, cathedral-like, and is mainly of the twelfth century (Norman period) and thirteenth century (Early English period). As we entered the building through the north porch I stopped to admire the wooden doors through which we were about to pass. They were so clearly fourteenth century, very sculptural, and so well lit that I had to photograph them. The sinuous moulding that decorated the surface had ogee forms at the top and bottom of each cell indicating its date. However, that pattern, very like a net pulled taut, also suggested the fourteenth century. It too has a specific name: architectural historians call it reticulated (meaning net-like) tracery. Within each shape I could make out the worn forms of quatrefoils, four-leafed shapes also much used in Gothic architecture.

It was clear that the door had survived because of the shelter from the weather that the large, vaulted porch provided. However, the wear of everyday use over a period of seven hundred years was evident in the worn mouldings, splits, knocks and gouges. Sometimes on such doors the metal-work is also original, frequently worn very thin through long use. Many of the large headed nails looked as though they dated from the time of the door's construction. But, the door handle, though rusted and marked, hadn't the wear of centuries and it is probably a Victorian replacement.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm (24mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/15 sec
ISO:2000
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Beach Hut No.33

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Prior to my recent visit to the town I had only been to Mablethorpe in Lincolnshire once. That was several years ago, on a cold, dull spring day, as we passed through on our way elsewhere. Maybe the circumstances coloured my judgement somewhat but I wasn't impressed. My second visit was on a sunny, reasonably warm day, and though I wouldn't describe myself as wildly enthusiastic about what I saw, it wasn't quite the dire place that I remembered.

Mablethorpe is a small, brash seaside town with a modest promenade, fine sandy beach and several dashes of glitz. Oh, and caravans by the acre and beach huts a-plenty. I don't mind a bit of British seaside fun, though I do tend to prefer such places in the winter. From a photographic point of view, however, they provide a welcome contrast to the rural and more sedate places where I often find myself with my camera. Bright colours, surface sheen and jollity aren't bad subjects for the wandering photographer.

The beach huts at Mablethorpe stood out on our sunny day, many of them freshly painted for the coming season. Some were clearly municipally owned and quite uniform, others were privately owned with many bearing the stamp of the owner's individuality - quirky colour schemes, slogans, odd names, cartoon characters etc. And, it must be said, quite a few of the beach huts had seen better days and really needed some TLC..

Today's photograph shows part of one of the municipally owned huts in two-tone blue. Red blue and green were the favoured colours for these huts and each sported a large identification number. In one area they stood along the sea wall like the remaining teeth in a mouth full of extractions, the concrete base of a disappeared hut marking each cavity. I liked the diagonal shape that the sun placed on the verticals and horizontals of this example and the way it turned two shades of blue into four.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 50mm (75mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Yellow, red and blue doors

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I think of the three colours, red, yellow and blue as the long-recognised primary colours associated with, not only painting and design, but also children's toys. Sometimes, however, they can be the perfect threesome to enliven a narrow, shadow-filled road in a big city. I photographed these three colourful doors on an interesting modern terrace, during a walk near the River Thames in Greenwich, London.

© Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 40mm (60mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f9
Shutter Speed: 1/125 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Heraldry and pelicans

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When coats of arms and heraldic devices were first conceived animals were widely used symbols. Those chosen were often selected for either their relevance to the family or for their fearsome qualities. Thus, the lion and the eagle are probably the most commonly found mammal and bird. But, as heraldry progressed, a wider range of creatures was used, such as boars, elephants, beavers or stags, and a veritable aviary of birds was put to work representing individuals, organisations and towns on their coats of arms. From the humble martlet (house martin) to the towering ostrich, birds of every description were pressed into service, including the pelican.

Before they featured in heraldry pelicans were used to symbolise Christ's sacrifice on the cross. It was believed that as young pelicans grow they strike their parent on the face with their beaks and the adult bird then kills them. But, after three days mourning the mother pierces her own breast and feeds her blood to the nestlings, which revives them. In an alternate version of this story the young pelicans are poisoned and the adult feeds her blood to bring them back to life. This tale was known from the medieval bestiaries and became part of Christian iconography. It can often be seen in medieval churches as the subject of carving in stone or wood, frequently on the underside of misericords or in ceiling bosses. It is also a popular subject for stained glass as in this Pre-Raphaelite example by Edward Burne-Jones for Morris & Co. that I photographed in the church of St Martin at Brampton, Cumbria.

The coat of arms of the Norfolk town of King's Lynn has been modified down the centuries but has usually included a pelican (though sometimes a gull). A marine bird is very appropriate for a port, and the designer of the late fifteenth century door shown in today's photograph decided it would be suitable as a central embellishment in the ogee arch that he put above the small wicket door in the centre of the larger main door. It's interesting that this door has survived in a secular property since the late 1400s, though it is noticeable that the surrounding woodwork is repaired and the topmost arch is characteristic of the late seventeenth or early eighteenth century.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: crop of 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f1.8
Shutter Speed: 1/30 sec
ISO:320
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Quirky portraits

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I used to take more portrait photographs than I do now. When our children were younger and lived with us they were very frequent subjects for my camera, as was my wife. Today I still take photographs of our children (and their significant others), and photographs of my wife are regular occurrences too, but in total numbers they are fewer than formerly. However, and perhaps understandably, our grand-daughter is the person I have photographed most in the past couple of years.

Good portrait photography has substance and value. And, though I appreciate and admire a well-done, insightful and inventive portrait, it's not a branch of photography that I've ever wanted to make a regular part of my photography: at least not to the extent of widening out beyond immediate family members. However, I do rather like constructing the occasional quirky portrait or self-portrait. This blog features more than a few of those - for example this one or perhaps this one, both of my wife, or this one of me. I suppose it's because I enjoy the creative challenge involved in imagining and constructing shots of this sort that I pursue them rather more than the formal portrait.

One recent morning I noticed the rising sun shining through the textured glass of our back door. Its deep orange yellow next to the blue of the sky were an appealing colour combination. So, when my wife returned from completing a chore outside, I asked her to pose on the other side of the glass, one hand resting on the door, and I took a  couple of shots. I'm quite pleased with the outcome. I like the colours and the way the glass transforms her into a generalised, impressionistic figure. When we moved into our house I wasn't particularly keen on the pattern of this glass. However, I've used it in photographs a couple of times so it clearly has its uses even if I still don't think it has much intrinsic appeal.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 55mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/60
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -1.00 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Old church doors

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Today's photograph is another of my recently scanned slides from 1986. It shows the remarkable south door of the church of St Helen at Stillingfleet, East Yorkshire. The semi-circular headed doorway in which it sits dates from c.1160. It has the characteristic ornament of chevron, beakhead, scallop etc. that is frequently found in Late Norman architecture. The door itself is thought to be contemporary with this period. Even though it has suffered the ravages of time - see the inserted pieces at the bottom replacing rotted wood - and, despite some of the ironwork missing, what is left surely cannot be from a later period.

The first thing that catches the eye is the very Nordic looking boat with its great steering oar/rudder. At the top left are two figures, and a further one can be seen at top right. The big hinges have large "C" shaped embellishments with dragon-like heads that bring to mind the sort of head one sees in stone on Norman doorways and in illustrations on illuminated manuscripts. The single foliate boss was probably one of two, three or more. Then there is the band of interlaced metal that helps to tie the boards of the door together. It looks like the hinges may have had a lattice-work of metal inside the "C" shapes. Who knows what else there was? When I took my photograph in 1986 the old door was still hanging in its original position and fulfilling its purpose as the main door connecting the outside and inside of the church. The last time I visited Stillingfleet, several years ago a new door was in its place and the ancient door had been moved inside to preserve it. It is a remarkable survivor.

The smaller photograph shows the north door of the church at Swineshead, Lincolnshire, taken on my recent visit. This is also the only door ever to have hung in its doorway. The reticulated tracery at the top of the door shows that it is contemporary with the architecture around it. Like many larger church doors it has a smaller door embedded within it. The large door would have been opened on ceremonial occasions with the smaller door serving everyday use and helping to minimise the effects of the cold north wind.

Somewhere in my collection of slides I have photographs of other old church doors including the fine example at Skipwith, also in East Yorkshire. Other Lincolnshire examples I've posted in this blog include the door at St Andrew, Sempringham (here and here) and the door at Pickworth.

photographs and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Olympus OM1n
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 50mm
F No: N/A
Shutter Speed: N/A
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  N/A
Image Stabilisation: N/A

Wisteria doorways

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We recently had a day in Wisbech, Cambridgeshire. It happened to coincide with some of the better weather that this generally wet and windy spring has brought, with pleasanter temperatures, some sun here and there, and a welcome absence of precipitation. So, we spent quite a while walking around, enjoying the plentiful historic buildings that are to be found in the Fenland town. One of the best sequence of buildings in Wisbech is to be found on the North Brink, a street near the centre that follows the course of the River Nene. The architectural historian, Nikolaus Pevsner, called North Brink "one of the most perfect Georgian streets of England." In terms of brick-built streets I think it is possibly the very best, having quality and variety rarely seen elsewhere.

But, on the day of our visit it wasn't the totality of North Brink that caught our eye, nor was it the visual interest and delight to be found in individual buildings. Rather it was a group of doorways decorated by flowering wisteria. As we came upon, first one, then another, it seemed that an inspired owner, by planting wisteria in the small space between facade and pavement, had triggered other owners into doing the same. The main photograph shows the front of the grandest building on the street, Peckover House of c.1725. This three-storey town house of yellow brick dressed with red brick and stone had wisteria growing across most of the ground floor of the main facade, its wilful, sinuous forms contrasting with the precise control of the eighteenth century elevation.

Not too far away was No. 10, an early eighteenth century, three-storey house that was raised to four storeys in the nineteenth century, a time when the windows with their hood shades were added. Here the wisteria was squeezed into the space between a bay window and the late eighteenth century doorcase with its Roman fluted columns. Farther down the street was another fine wisteria, this time on a one of a pair of Jacobean-Gothic Revival houses of the 1850s, framing its pointed doorway and the Gothic-style panelled door.

Wisteria with its short-lived, lilac-coloured blossom and sturdy trunk and branches, is a popular choice for the adornment of the front of houses. I've posted photographs of other buildings that have made use of it - see, for example, this seventeenth century farmhouse door and facade. I've only used the plant once myself. The second house that we owned had a very unattractive garage and the wisteria that we grew up its wall helped to ameliorate its utilitarian ugliness.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 30mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Early 1800s terraced housing

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The Norfolk market town of King's Lynn is a mecca for anyone interested in English architectural history. As a measure of its wealth in this regard the Borough of King's Lynn and West Norfolk has 1,878 listed buildings of which 111 are Grade 1 i.e of national as well as local importance. Within the town there are a number streets that draw visitors with the range and quality of their buildings. One such is Nelson Street that extends south from near St Margaret's church. From Hampton Court  - a courtyard development that has been in use and added to from the fourteenth century to the present day - to seventeenth and eighteenth century merchant's houses such as No. 15 and Oxley House, this short road offers interest in every elevation.

However, it's not one of the more obviously historic or showpiece structures that I photographed on my recent visit. Instead, it is a section of a terrace - Nos. 14-20 Nelson Street. These houses stand out from their neighbours as being rather dour, somewhat industrial, and on a smaller scale. They were built in 1819 at the tail end of the Georgian period when mass housing started to take on a Victorian countenance. The materials chosen for this row are red brick with gault brick for the facades and Welsh slate on the roofs. Each house is two bays wide with the blind window above the door filled in from the outset. Chimney stacks and a raised firebreak mark the division between the properties at roof level. The original doors and some original sash windows are still in use. To the right (out of shot) is a basket-arched carriage arch that presumably gave access to the rear of all the properties.

The gault brick, as is often the case, hasn't aged very well and looks somewhat grubby giving a time-worn appearance even though it is still in pretty good condition. What drew my eye and caused me to take this photograph was the brightly painted doors. I don't imagine that there is a great deal of similarity to how they looked in 1819, but today, given the somewhat drab brickwork that surrounds them, they offer welcome brightness as well as a focus for this passing photographer's composition.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Improving the shot

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Photographers are always looking to improve their pictures. Progress is often measured over time and through many different subjects and approaches. But improvement can also be sought by returning to precisely the same subject time and again, aiming to make each image better than the previous one.

I have that sort of relationship with this seventeenth century house near St Andrew's church in Billingborough, Lincolnshire. I've photographed the view looking from the end of the house down the public footpath towards the church several times. Often this has coincided with a visit to the village to have a vehicle serviced, so I haven't planned the shots in any wider sense.

The first image I posted on the blog is OK, but nothing special. The second is an improvement, and I'm quite pleased with it. However, in the accompanying text I say that I should have caught the building when the wisteria was in full flower, and will perhaps do so next year. That was in 2009. I came upon the building recently, two years later, and the wisteria was showing well, so I took my photographs. However, I like the most recent image less than the second one. Why? Well, the light doesn't model the buildings as well - more shadows are needed. I thought this might be the case when I was taking the photographs, and so I looked for a couple of detail shots. This one, of the characteristically (for the seventeenth century) low front door was the best of the bunch. I liked the combination of colours, textures and those shadows.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Main Photo
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Spherical objects and propaganda

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The UK press is currently full of reports of the lies that U.S. right-wing politicians, fanatics and apologists for the American health-care industry are propagating about our National Health Service (NHS), as they seek to derail President Obama's very modest proposals for reform.

Many Britons, looking at the T.V. adverts and written comments that have spewed out of the propaganda machines have laughed out loud at the lurid fabrications, falsehoods and misrepresentations that are being peddled as fact. Others have become angry that a cherished institution that most people feel does an excellent job should be traduced in this way. However, the ire of British supporters of the NHS has been raised most by the utterances of one of our own MEPs, Daniel Hannan, a man the "Guardian" newspaper describes as a "darling of the U.S. right", who has been happy to appear on TV talking down the NHS and agreeing with those who oppose Obama's proposals. The leader of Conservatives, the party that Hannan represents, has described this man as "eccentric" and unrepresentative of their views about Britain's health care system, but that hasn't stooped him from seeking the cameras or prevented his American bed-fellows from using him as evidence that "socialised" medicine is awful.

My experience of the NHS has been good. It's not a perfect system, none is, but by most indicators it provides efficient and effective health care that is (in the main) free to all, and entirely free to those on low incomes. The concern in Britain is that U.S.-style private health care is seeking a greater foothold here, because, and this hasn't be mentioned much by the American critics, for those who want something different, private medical care can be bought in the UK too. That it provides only a small part of the total provision says much about the quality of the free offering that is paid for through taxation.

However, I will concede that sometimes when you live with a system all your life you don't see it in quite the way that an outsider does. Today's newspaper carries an article by an American professor who has worked in Britain for a number of years and has experience of the NHS for himself and his family. He identifies a benefit of "socialised medicine" that had never occurred to me because I take it for granted. In a supportive statement about his dealings with the NHS he says, "Perhaps it is the absence of fear of becoming ill that is the most important aspect of the system."

What has today's photograph of a door at Grimsthorpe Castle, Lincolnshire, to do with the self-serving anti-NHS propaganda of the American right? Well, both depend for their effect on spherical objects!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 86mm (172mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f4.8
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Battered but not broken

click photo to enlarge

The climate of the British Isles is classified as "temperate". The summers don't usually get too hot, the winters are never that cold, and rain is fairly regular. Snow doesn't fall as often as children would like, and frost is a winter regular but is usually not too harsh. One of the effects of weather with these characteristics is that ancient buildings slowly crumble unless serious efforts are made to conserve them. Freeze-thaw, rain (including the acid variety), wind and general damp take their toll on mortar joints, roof coverings, bricks, stone and foundations. Metal rusts easily, and wood rots.

It's salutary to compare the Roman remains of Britain with those of the drier, warmer Mediterranean countries. Hadrian's Wall that crosses Northern England is a visible structure of clearly cut stones, but details, sculpture, lettering etc are difficult to find, and the best examples are those that received the protection of being buried for centuries. There is no remaining, standing, Roman triumphal arch in Britain, yet beautifully detailed examples can be found in Southern France, Italy and elsewhere.

The same is true of medieval work. Italian buildings of the thirteenth century look fresher, and have more detail, than those of the same date in Britain.With all this in mind, many people are surprised to find that original wood and ironwork on the exterior of medieval buildings can still be found in this islands. Today's image, the south door of c.1250AD on the church of St Andrew, Sempringham, Lincolnshire, is a subject that I've photographed and written about before here. I had the opportunity to capture it again yesterday, and this time I included the handle of the door. The thumb lever has been worn extremely thin over the centuries, yet it still, like the door itself, performs its useful task perfectly. In fairness, at the end of the Victorian period a porch was built over the south door, so for just over a century the metal and wood has been protected from the elements. However, it is a tribute to the skill of the original crafstmen and to the reverence for this aged artefact that has existed down the ages, that in Britain's climate it is still there at all!

My recent visit to see the door gleaned one fact that is at variance with my original description of its construction: apparently the wood is "fir" (yew perhaps?) and not oak.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 22mm (44mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f3.5
Shutter Speed: 1/40
ISO: 400
Exposure Compensation: -1.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Made to last

click photos to enlarge

One of the pleasures of looking at churches is that you can get an almost palpable sense of history and the continuity of life down the generations. The other day I visited a succession of churches including St Andrew at Pickworth in Lincolnshire. This is a beautiful, essentially fourteenth century building, but with two windows and a font from the twelfth century. Most people who are interested in ecclesiastical architecture know Pickworth for its wall paintings of the late 1300s. Above the chancel arch is a Doom that continues on to a nave wall. This was designed to show the congregation the fires of Hell, and it includes three figures being boiled alive in a cauldron. Other paintings illustrate St Christopher, the Ascension, The Quick and The Dead, and the Weighing of Souls. These were uncovered in the nineteenth century having been painted over in earlier centuries when such things were frowned upon.

Fascinating though the painting are, the thing that caught my eye was the door inside the south porch. It was made and placed in its doorway in the early 1300s, and has remained there ever since, opening and closing as successive generations of villagers have entered and left the church. It bears the marks of centuries of nails and tacks where priests and parish clerks have fixed notices to its thick oak planks. The "C" shaped hinges and the decorative iron lobes and tendrils are rusted, with parts missing, but they still hold it together as they did on the day it was first fixed in place. I find it remarkable, and quite humbling, to see an artefact such as this, the subject of care and sensitive restoration for the past 700 years, still in situ and still giving good service. As I studied this venerable object I became aware of carved graffiti on the inner walls of the porch on each side of the door. The oldest date I could find was evidently made by "WS" in 1614. There were many dates from the 1700s, and the latest appeared to be from the 1970s. Later, as I looked at the eighteenth century slate and stone gravestones in the churchyard I wondered if any of these departed, eulogised by those who erected their memorials, were those who had left evidence of their youthful indiscretions carved inside the porch!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

(Doorway)
Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm macro (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/60
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The gravedigger's door

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"As one door closes, another opens", we say, and this was metaphorically and literally true for the parishioners of Swineshead in Lincolnshire. For a period of a hundred, or maybe even two hundred years, as the door of life closed on a person, so the door of this churchyard shed opened, and the gravedigger brought out his tools to prepare a burial place for the deceased.

Today the building is more likely to contain a lawnmower and a few other tools for maintaining the grounds of the ancient church. But it may still hold the gravedigger's tools for those parishioners whose final journey doesn't include cremation. Whatever its present purpose, it still stands, castellated above, repaired and extended with different bricks, and sealed with its old pointed door in its old pointed arch - the builder's idea of what is appropriate for a churchyard.

I'd gone to Swineshead to photograph the lovely church tower and spire with its corona base, and came away with a number of images that I'm pleased with. This is one that I didn't look for - it just, serendipitously, presented itself. Of all the shots I took on that bright, windy afternoon, this is my favourite for the combination of colours, shadows and texture.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 16mm (32mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off