Well, I’m a little bushed to write anything substantive at the moment, but I thought I would go ahead and slap a few pictures from yesterday and today up here. I’ve heard more organ music in the past two days than in the total of my stateside life, but that’s what you get for living down the street from a cathedral and spending your holiday in the country’s two ecclesiastical provinces.

The forecast was for heavy rain, but that wasn't quite the case.

The forecast was for heavy rain, but that wasn't quite the case.

Trinity Sunday was at York, and in addition to one of the most impressive evensongs I’ve ever experienced it contained pub lunch, teddy bears, ruins, hospital, tea, and one of the more enterprising squirrels in the county.

There were at least four ranks of boats, each with her name emblazoned on the top.

There were at least four ranks of boats, each with her name emblazoned on the top.

Today was in Canterbury, where I kid you not there was a guinea fowl wandering about making a racket in the cathedral’s herb garden. Thomas a Becket (the original patron saint of my college) was martyred just inside, and has some beautiful tributes, including the corona chapel and some of the most beautiful stained glass anywhere.

view of the High Altar and the Corona Chapel from the Quire (this does not do the cathedral justice at all)

view of the High Altar and the Corona Chapel from the Quire (this does not do the cathedral justice at all)

However, much of the cathedral was damaged or destroyed in the bombings, and it is currently struggling to keep up repairs, which is an absolute shame.

a modern image of St. Thomas made from glass salvaged after the bombings

a modern image of St. Thomas made from glass salvaged after the bombings

Some of the glass, like the above panel, has been restored, but several of the huge windows stand clear and bleak. Especially against the rich tones of the preserved glass, they serve as uncomfortable reminders of what we have lost artistically and culturally, and they mirror what we have done to other nations. The glass is of course not all that was damaged.

blown away

blown away

While whether the effigies were imitating their flesh counterparts or vice versa remains open to debate, there were also some less forbidding sights over the weekend, which I will briefly cite below before crashing. It’s still difficult to realize that I don’t have to spend hours every day in the library. Whenever one has the freedom to exhaust oneself in enthusiastic and athletic pursuits, it’s worth taking advantage of the circumstances.

just minding my own business when a romanticist bashed me over the head here...

just minding my own business when a romanticist bashed me over the head here...

some of the better graffiti in Kent

some of the better graffiti in Kent

old friends

old friends

the Dane John (donjon) burial mound, Canterbury

the Dane John (donjon) burial mound, Canterbury

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