Alciston

Wednesday is my day off. I spent the morning applying (on a whim) for a new job and headed off late afternoon to the parish church of Alicston, a tiny village at the foot of the South Downs. The churchyard is kept as a wild garden and at this time of year is a riot of cowslips, primroses, vetches, oxeye daisy, speedwell, forget-me-knot and cow parsley. The church (parts of which pre-date the Norman invasion) stands next to a huge tithe barn dating from the 14th century. It is one of the most timeless and peaceful places in my world.