This weekend, I walked on castle walls, climbed towers with winding staircases, and explored the ruins of a majestic 12th century priory... I think I took off from Dallas last month and landed in a dream. There have been so many times in the last 3 weeks that I have wanted to pinch myself to make sure this was actually happening, but then I don't... because if this is a dream, I don't think I want to wake up.
I spent today in a town called Castle Acre, the site of an 11th century castle (now in ruins) and a 12th century priory (aka monastery, also in ruins). The castle part was not as impressive as Framlingham Castle, which I visited on Friday, but the priory blew me away. The site is managed by English Heritage, mentioned in my last post, and they offer audio tours at most of their sites. You get a little walkie-talkie thing to carry around with you, and it's totally self-paced; you just press certain numbers that correspond to parts of the site, and it talks about whatever part you are in front of. I love it because it tells you exactly what to look at and explains the background of everything you are seeing, like a personal tour guide.
It was an absolutely gorgeous day - sunny, bright blue sky, few clouds. As I began walking through the priory ruins, my friend the audio tour began the incredible story of the priory's rise in the early 1100s. The first part of the ruins that you walk through happens to be the church. I wince at the term "church" here, because it feels like it needs a much more majestic name to give you the best visual description, but after learning the technical definition of "cathedral" last week, I will use "church" as applicable here. The church was the largest part of the priory, and built in the shape of a cross, typical of the time period. The entrance wall is the most intact part, and is at the "bottom" of the cross shape. The wall is just incredible to look at - massive arches form holes where stained glass windows used to be, the top just seems to reach all the way to the sky when you stand next to it. Once inside the walls, the audio tour plays haunting music with voices of monks chanting, and paints a scene of what the inside of the church looked like hundreds of years ago.
In the middle of the cross shape, where the north and south transepts meet, there is an altar. It is made of stones, and sits alone in the expanse of bright green grass enclosed by the walls, where intricate painted tile used to cover the ground. Maybe it was the music from the audio tour, or the rays of sunlight shining through the ruined walls, but standing in front of that altar... I felt like I was on hallowed ground. I was all alone in the ruins at this point, and the gravity of everything I have seen here all rushed through my head at once... imagining a 12th century monk kneeling at this same altar, the forces of history that changed this church from the way he knew it to the ruins I stand in today, so many lives lived between his and mine... yet here the altar stands. It might be the most beautiful physical representation of the omnipresence of God that I have seen with my own eyes. The 12th century is almost unfathomably long ago for me, yet the same God I worship today was there, and was there before history even began. I knelt down at the altar and said a prayer, thanking God for allowing me to be here, to experience all the incredible moments that I could never hope to deserve, to kneel at this altar and somehow feel like a part of the hundreds of years of history it has witnessed.
I'm not sure I will ever get used to seeing things like the priory ruins. I mean, I feel like I walk and drive around in a constant state of awe at the things I see and what they represent. I don't want to lose that, I don't want to ever take things like castles and cathedrals for granted, to see them as commonplace just because there are so many over here. I've been warned that I'm in the "honeymoon phase", that once winter comes and it is dark and cloudy and rainy all the time, I won't be so in love with England. I really hate that thought. If I was to ever complain about being here, it would be like snubbing my nose at the unbelievable gift I have been given. I know some of you (maybe all of you) reading this may think this sounds ridiculous, may not believe it is possible to feel so connected to a place. And I can't really blame you, because I'm not even sure I can explain to myself why it means so much to me, much less someone else. All I can say is that I am thankful for every day I have here, and I don't ever want to forget that.
Pictures from Friday's trip to Framlingham Castle: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=299235&id=701905001&l=3f1995dad6
Pictures from Sunday's trip to Castle Acre Priory and Castle: Unfortunately Facebook is not cooperating with me tonight and I can't get them posted... will try again tomorrow, sorry!
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