September 7th – It had been a gruelling week. In Leicester for most of it, I’d had enough. The weather had been great, and I’d missed it by being holed up indoors all week. I escaped early on Friday afternoon, and endured a sleepy commute home on hot, sweaty trains. At Shenstone, I emerged in fresh air and sunshine, and immediately headed up Church Hill to the churchyard. I love Shenstone Churchyard, it’s overgrown air of neglect and nature’s reclamation softens a church whose dark, Victorian gothic I’ve never been fond of. It’s a peaceful place, and although I don’t like the church, I admire it and it’s bold architectural ambition, replete with vulgar gargoyles. I felt relaxed, already.

November 1st – It was a slightly better morning this morning than that of the day before, and the dawn seemed to come a shade earlier. As I reached Shenstone Station, I noticed the lightened sky to the east, and the perfect manner in which it highlighted Shenstone’s Victorian Gothick church tower. You don’t see gargoyles like that every day…