It was a mild but dampish afternoon in York and we were just wandering along, chatting about nothing in particular, and realising we were only a little bit lost… well maybe not even lost, just not exactly where we thought we should have been… when we passed this gate and path leading behind a church. It may have been St Lawrence’s church… we were a little lost after all.
We wandered past and then I went back and took a couple of photos; it wasn’t just the warm red bricks of the old wall, or the shiny, yellow and grey flag stones, or the oblique view of the old building, or the lush green grass… there was something in this view which tickled my imagination.
I don’t know when but at some point, this path will be in one of my stories; not in anything of the many things I’m writing at the moment, but at some point someone will open the gate and go through. Maybe they will saunter along, ready to look at or visit or go into the church; maybe they will wander around, looking for the grave of an ancestor; maybe they will walk smartly along, taking a short cut somewhere; maybe they are late and will rush, maybe they are frightened and will run, maybe they will try to be casual as they follow someone. I don’t know if the church will remain a church or may become some other building – there may not be a church there at all when I write about it, however, the gate may not be metal but wood, or may even be a solid gate. I think the red wall and the flags will remain, and the bright grass in contrast – unless of course it is covered in snow!
I don’t yet know, but I will come back to this photo and I will write about a narrow yellow and grey flagged path, shining with wet, and a warm red wall beside.
Lois Elsden 