As you will all be aware by now, I live in Beetley Village. Most of this area is an extension of the original Saxon hamlet, now referred to as Old Beetley. This is just over one mile from our house, and although part of the parish, has a distinctly separate identity. With the fine weather still gracing us with its presence, I decided to leave early today, and take Ollie for a longer walk than usual, including an excursion to Old Beetley, to see the church of St Mary Magdalene.
Some of this walk is on country roads, so Ollie had to be on the lead. He really doesn’t enjoy this, as you can see from this photo. His tail is not curled around his back. A sure sign that he is unhappy.
The current church dates from 1320, built on the site of a church that would have stood there since Saxon times. Like most local churches, it is rarely open. Services are only held on the first and third Sunday of each month. At other times, the building is locked. It is tucked away behind some modern houses, and the graveyard surrounding it has many old gravestones still intact.
The tower was enlarged during the 16th century. It is still one of the tallest structures in the area, and can be seen from all around.
Continuing on to the village crossroads, I came across this memorial bench, surrounding a young tree. Jude will appreciate the inclusion of a bench this time, even one that is quite recent, as it was erected in 2013. It is slightly wonky, as it is not placed on even ground. The photo is level, I assure you. The house opposite is one of the few remaining old houses, as most of the substantial properties to be found there are relatively modern.
We made our way back across the fields of the farms that surround this area, using public footpaths to avoid the roads that cause Ollie so much distress.
Hi Pete, I hope you’re well!
Thank you for posting these pictures and descriptions, and the ones from Beetley woods – seeing views which are just five/ten minutes’ walk from my house was a lovely surprise from my new room up in York! The house with the lovely red ivy used to be the village pub, a very long time ago.
I seem to remember a short conversation about the following of my new blog – sorry for taking such a while to get back to you – because I’m now effectively self-hosting you are unable to follow through WordPress, but can now follow via email so feel free to do so, if you would like!
Best wishes,
Lucy
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Happy to bring you a taste of home in Yorkshire, Lucy.
I will check out your site, and try to follow via email.
I hope it’s all going well at university, and look forward to a big catch-up on your posts. x
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Your link is still taking me to the wordpress site for some reason. Send me the different link, and I will sort out following. petejohnson50@yahoo.com
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Apologies – I still have to sort out the redirect link. The new one is: http://lucyeyf.co.uk
Thanks! L
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Now sorted. You have a follower from Beetley again!
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Ollie is such a handsome chap!
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I like to think he takes after me, but my tail is not nearly so curly!
Best wishes, Pete.
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I am wondering about those locked churches. Don’t they have daily service? I love Ollie’s pic and all your other wonderful photos!
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Thanks for your kind words, Arlene.
The local churches do not have daily services. They only have two a month, on Sundays, with ministers who travel between them.
Best wishes, Pete.
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I appears you are living in ‘Brigadoon’ – I’m jealous once again!!
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Not quite ‘Brigadoon’, GP. But it is certainly very peaceful!
Best wishes, Pete.
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It looks like a beautiful place. I love the old churches. Sorry that it’s not great for Ollie though, but great shots…
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Thanks, Olga. Glad you liked this post. Ollie was fine once I let him off the lead.
Best wishes, Pete.
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That is some great architecture there on those churches.
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It has certainly stood the test of time, V.
Cheers mate, Pete.
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It looks amazing.
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Ollie unhappy on a lead with his tail uncurled – an indelible and poignant image. I shall be using it as a metaphor for human moods. My tail is definitely not curled around my back today (work & condo strife again). Please give Ollie something he likes on my behalf. XX
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I will do Pippa. Sorry to hear that your metaphorical tail is uncurled. I hope that you also receive something you like, on my behalf this time. xx
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I smiled at the “wonky” memorial bench. Here in the States, memorial benches are not uncommon. I’d love to attend a mass in the old church. Modern churches do not have a spiritual “feel” to them, but the old churches certainly do!
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There are lots of memorial and dedicated benches here in the UK, David, especially along the coastal cliffs. I agree that modern churches never seem quite right.
Regards, Pete.
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Poor Ollie, I hope he was happier on the way home š
I am surprised that the church is kept locked. When we were in Norfolk on holiday we visited several churches and they were all open. I rather like the churches in Norfolk they are bright and light inside and very welcoming. And where I learned about poppy-head pews. Such a shame you weren’t able to go in. I appreciate the bench though I have to wonder why would anyone sit there. Is there a view? I also appreciate that lovely symmetrical house, but I’d be pulling that wonderful Virginia Creeper off the roof and chimney before it does too much damage.
Nice walking with you both on a sunny autumn day.
Jude xx
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There are lots of comments around here about locked churches. The area is also plagued by theft from lead on the roofs, as they are so often unattended. The Church pleads poverty, and that church featured in the photos is asking for Ā£25,000 for ‘remedial repairs’ from the local community. I thought that was a bit much, considering it is only open two days a month.
The bench was erected in memory of a local man and his dog, on a small green at the junction of three roads. There is no view, except the white house with the red creeper! x
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I like the idea of a bench as a memorial. Maybe he liked to stand there and watch the traffic pass by š
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What a pretty fall day. I love the red ivy on the white house. Great shots.
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Thanks, Cindy. Much appreciated, as always.
Best wishes, Pete.
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