Hello, I’m Gill and I write a photography blog inspired by the landscapes of Suffolk and beyond. Please subscribe to read more of my writing and visit my website to view my images
As I open the gate to Ramsholt churchyard time seems to stand still, the view before me could be from any century, quintessentially English, but few traces of the modern world.
It is early, the sun well over an hour into the new day, its warming rays gently drying the dew laden grass. Dawn comes early now that spring is here and the natural world responds with unbridled enthusiasm.
Delicate fronds of cow parsley stretch out in front of me, their graceful white blooms covering the churchyard like a mantle of lace. Here and there it is just possible to make out the hard edges of a gravestone emerging from the disorderly meadow. The air above is completely still, filled only with the song of a skylark, suspended in full voice somewhere high above me, a delicious stream of musical notes flow freely back down to earth.
Nature is the principal architect in this churchyard and this is one of the reasons why I love this place. It is one of those perfectly lonely spots which speak to my soul and with which it is possible to establish a spiritual connection, not in the religious sense but with the place itself, and with nature as a whole.
Situated on a low ridge overlooking the banks of the River Deben the church stands proud and isolated. The view stretches away down the hill to the far reaches of the river where sailing boats bob gently on the tide, their white hulls gleaming brightly in the morning sunshine. In a breeze it is possible to hear them chatter as they swung on their moorings, their halyards chinking rhythmically against their masts. Today, however, in the stillness of the morning they remain silent.
Across the valley I can just make out the small wood at the edge of the river, its details hazy in the mist. It is much easier to hear the cuckoo that is calling persistently from the trees. Eventually he breaks cover and flies towards me above the churchyard and away over the fields.
Nightingales sing here too, their beautiful song ringing out over the valley. It is the only place I have heard them in Suffolk so it has become special for that reason too.
I come here regularly, seeking out still mornings where the mist hangs low over the river. After the cow parsley fades the poppies take over and a white rambling rose fills the churchyard with its heady scent.
I think we all need places like this - somewhere we can go and be still and soak up the silence. Not that nature is silent, but here it feels louder than the rest of the world and I think that is incredibly important.
This week I was listening to a podcast with Matt Payne and American photographer Eric Bennett, discussing his new book - Space, Stillness and Silence which features images from the Southern Utah desert. In the description of the book Eric describes his relationship with the location.
In this crowded, busy, and noisy world, our lonely deserts are some of the last standing sanctuaries of true solitude. While they are indeed scarce in food, water, and shelter, their abundant space, stillness, and silence satisfy and nourish us in other essential ways.
In some ways this is how I feel about the churchyard at Ramsholt. It may not be as remote as the deserts of Utah, or as wild for that matter, and it may not offer a vast space to explore, but it does provide the same connection and escape from modern life that Eric talks about.
In this busy, complicated world I think we need places that we can go to to find our inner peace. I love the mountains of Scotland but they are not always available to me, so I seek my solitude in other locations closer to home.
For me this small part of Suffolk offers stillness, silence and a connection with nature that I feel is really important and far transcends the religious meaning that man has attributed to this place. It also offers some lovely subjects for photography and I always feel refreshed and at peace after spending time here.
Do you have a place in nature that you go to escape the bustle and noise of the modern world? Is it somewhere remote or do you feel you can find stillness closer to home?
I would love to hear your thoughts, so please leave a comment below.
Thank you very much for reading and until next week enjoy your photography.
Gill
Beautiful pictures Gill. I actually felt transported to that location through those images.
Alan
A great piece, Gill. For me, taking my camera for a walk often creates my own private space, a bubble in which a degree of solitude emerges. Even in the middle of the bustling city where I live, I find it… I just need to open my eyes and look, which is what the camera helps me do.
I also find that at different times of the day - or night - those often-busy places can transform into bolt-holes of solitude, as well as presenting a different challenge photographically.
So I think that private solitude is actually one of the joys - perhaps even therapy - that photography brings me, and is probably why I often photograph alone…