'Shrouded in the mists of time' is an oft repeated phrase. On the occasion of this Ragged Ramble, I have to say it was very apt. Located in the grounds of Melton Constable Hall, to the south-west of the village, stands the church of St Peter. As we approached Aunty Gary let out a huge roar of approval; a cue for a fanfare of 'huzzahs!' from us all.
In particular, the wonderful stout Norman tower pleased us immensely. It has stood here for around nine hundred years, like a gnomen of a sundial, or the standing leg of a compass - a constant presence; a fixed point. The mists only added to this sense of timelessness.
We had intended to find a key holder and explore inside; and, indeed, we did frighten a local household just up the lane, who refused to answer the door to us tweed-clad explorers - despite Aunty Gary's pleading. However, from the moment that Maximillion suggested that he spark up the stove, our minds were transported on wafts of bacon-scented reverie, and we never did get that key...
However, if you are interested in taking a peek inside, take a look at this piece by the ever-wonderful Simon Knott:
St Peter, Melton Constable
HUZZAH!
~ Esotericus ~
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