Irstead, St Michael: Enriching Encounters with Heritage

 

I have recently been struggling with my mental health - the latest chapter of a lifelong struggle with episodic depression. When I am enduring these lows my fragile self-confidence dissipates, which is one reason why I haven't posted anything here lately. Today, however, I've decided to challenge my 'imposter syndrome' that tells me I have nothing worthwhile to say and reflect on a how a recent encounter with a cobwebby old place enriched me and improved my emotional resilience. 

Let me start with the photo, above. This was taken in the porch of St Michael, Irstead, on the Broads. I was leaving this wonderful little church when the dancing shimmer of light on the rough plasterwork caught my attention. I stood a-while watching the play of light before me - a beautiful little gift. Here I am, still, within the flow of time, reflecting upon a moment of transitory beauty revealing itself in this special place. Here I am, not just absorbed in a moment, but also attempting to capture it within an image and conjuring my experience in front of you here. 

I was visiting the church in the company of a good friend who I haven't seen much over the past few years. I felt gratitude to be in the company of Paul J, a kind, compassionate, thoroughly decent and incredibly talented man. After exploring the church, we wandered down to the broad and sat on a bench and yarned together as the boats slowly passed by. I took the next photo of a boat sailing along with my watch in the foreground to mark the moment. I recently bought the same watch for two of my closest friends to mark the long duration of our friendship and it pleases us to share images like this, with their suggestion of each being in mind in that moment despite the geographical distance between us...

Finally, I enjoyed exploring the ostensibly humble church at Irstead: taking time to re-acquaint myself with the thirteenth-century stiff-leaf wood carving, the de-faced rood screen panels, the rustic bench-ends... too much to cite here really, for this is a jewel-box of a church. For me, time in such places is not 'spent' so much as invested. The rewards of slowing down and immersing oneself within are immensely rewarding and rejuvenating. I will emerge from this dark period stronger, wiser, better. And I won't do it alone, but, partly, through encounters with special heritage spaces like Irstead Church. 

The Fallible Flaneur <*(((((><{