Carlisle Cathedral well

This was a well on the run. After getting the shed covered over this morning following the storm damage the other night I headed up to Carlisle, parked, did essential shopping that I'd been putting off, popped in the cathedral and asked the nice chap in a cassock ....'where's the well?' ... which was met with, 'it's behind you', blipped, and was back in the car within the hour. Result in my book - I usually do shopping on a gird yourself, hit and run basis.

I can't find out much about this well other than it was sealed by one of the former deans who thought it affected the singing and music for some reason. It was excavated some time ago, a diver went down and pulled out various bits and bobs. During the period of border reivers it was handy for a fresh water supply at times of needing refuge.

Prayer - Carol Ann Duffy

Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer
utters itself. So, a woman will lift
her head from the sieve of her hands and stare
at the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.

Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth
enters our hearts, that small familiar pain;
then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth
in the distant Latin chanting of a train.

Pray for us now. Grade 1 piano scales
console the lodger looking out across
a Midlands town. Then dusk, and someone calls
a child's name as though they named their loss.

Darkness outside. Inside, the radio's prayer -
Rockall. Malin. Dogger. Finisterre.