June 2021 saw the places starting to open up following coronavirus, so I took the opportunity to revisit a place I had loved from a road trip several years ago – Canterbury.
Renowned for being the site of Thomas a Becket’s murder in 1170, I spent 4 glorious hours walking around the cathedral on the Saturday, followed by a visit to St Augustine’s Abbey on the Sunday. Poems were born, my dad’s old DSLR camera played with, and ideas for future collections conceived. I stayed in a small B&B just off the High Street, The Coach House, ideally suited for its location just yards from the cathedral, shops and gardens, and beautiful inside (not for the faint-hearted though as steps inside are steep – it is a Georgian building so to be expected).
The journey there was somewhat longer than I anticipated – I had inadvertently forgotten that my satnav was set to avoid motorways! This turned out to be a glorious mistake! Throughout the whole journey on the radio I heard reports of motorway carparks, whilst I enjoyed the beautiful scenery of untroubled villages and rolling roads through Surrey, skirting south of London. For the route home I decided to do the same, but took a different route and skirted north of London – avoiding motorways is definitely a worthwhile experience if you can. Take your time and enjoy the journey as much as the destination – a lesson for life and not just road trips. Fortunately the weather was with me, and dry enough once I arrived for me to partake in one of my favourite pastimes – people watching and time absorbing; this is how many of my poems are born! I was watched over by herring-boned brick fronts of old Canterbury buildings nestling not quietly, yet not with disquiet amongst the facades of the new.
Although the actual shrine to Thomas a Becket has since been lost, you can still visit the spot of his first internment in the ethereal Norman crypt, as well as the spot where he was reputed to have been slain. A candle also burns continuously at the spot where his shrine was located – a poignant reminder of our own mortality. I also stumbled (not quite literally!) upon an old herb garden, which would have been used by monks for growing healing herbs. As Poet-in-Residence for The Commandery, Worcester, this is an area I’m researching for a new collection, so am keen to uncover further links between historic sites as centres of healing over the years – how did people first uncover which herbs would help? How was that knowledge passed on across countries and cultures? Over the years, women were persecuted as witches for this knowledge and yet without it……where would we be now? (now you have an inkling how my thought-hamsters run off their treadmill and create poetic trains of thought!)
One of the surprising finds within the Cathedral was the Amnesty Candle, especially as the Friday previous I had the honour of headlining for Amnesty International’s birthday event. Other candles can be found in Salisbury and Southward cathedrals, as well as other churches throughout the UK. Standing there and reflecting upon the message portrayed both by the barbed-wire imprisoning the candle and the freedom of the flame to light the shadows was a very special and reflective moment.
My visit to St Augustine’s Abbey was fascinating – I hadn’t appreciated that not only was this built prior to the cathedral in 598, it was in its day much larger too. The history surrounding this site is incredible, and well worth a read (if I put it all here you won’t be inspired to visit for yourself, and it will take up the whole site!). These are the moments when I’m so glad of my English Heritage and National Trust memberships – not only does my membership help maintain these valuable places, it also provides me with beautiful and stunning places to visit and legends to uncover in areas I may not have thought of looking at.
I’m loath to upload many more of my cherished pictures here, as they are going to be forming part of a new collection (hopefully for Spring/Summer 2022) based on shadows in spaces. Sometimes a hint of treasures is more inspiring than the full display – personally I would thoroughly recommend you visit this beautiful gem of Kent and absorb the atmosphere for yourself.
Altar-scape
My altar is nature’s landscape, outside, caring not
whether skies be stormy or blue.
Too much time is spent behind the lens, or barring the ink to flow,
Replaced by keyboard clacks and speed of thought,
Negating the ebb of emotion.
The nectar for our salve is rooted in wildflower mead
Sprouting from the sackcloth chants of monks’ memories,
Ghosts among the grasses’ seeds.
(c) Leena Batchelor 2021
Masonry marks on a hidden column 
Pixie Muse Poetry & Prose 