Patchwork

The fourteenth century west window of this church is not particularly fancy in terms of its glass. It was probably put in by the Victorians, those arch villains of ecclesiastical restoration. Many a church lost its ageless identity under their heavy hands and this one was is no exception.

The small panes appear to have been bought cheap from a nineteenth century discount store, perhaps a branch of Glass R Us or Kwik Kut Panes. They vary in colour, setting and quality, lending a fascinating patchwork effect to the outside world. The expressions 'fell of the back of a cart, guv' or 'got them from a mate down the boozer' might have been the words uttered as the churchwardens surveyed their intended purchase.

There aren't many old churches where you can't find something of interest picture-wise providing the light is good and, as I've said before, there are not many buildings that allow you such a free rein to pursue your strange quests for imagery and illusion. You tend not to get security bursting in on you, just little old ladies coming in to check you're not nicking the candlesticks.

Although I could not countenance the idea of organised religion or the existence of a supreme being, I can't deny the spiritual uplift that spending time in some of these buildings gives me.

It is an experience brought about physical forces, real sensations, not mystical ones or the side effects of a latent superstition. A building has an ambience which it communicates, good or ill. It is a sensation created within its confines, a product of light, darkness, sound, texture, smell, age and tradition.

No gods required.