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Shadows towards beauty's end. This door arrested my journey for a few moments this week in Haslingden, Lancashire - love the light, shade and patina on this. Am grateful for these things.
On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble;
His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;
The gale, it plies the saplings double,
And thick on Severn snow the leaves.
'Twould blow like this through holt and hanger
When Uricon the city stood:
'Tis the old wind in the old anger,
But then it threshed another wood.
Then, 'twas before my time, the Roman
At yonder heaving hill would stare:
The blood that warms an English yeoman,
The thoughts that hurt him, they were there.
There, like the wind through woods in riot,
Through him the gale of life blew high;
The tree of man was never quiet:
Then 'twas the Roman, now 'tis I.
The gale, it plies the saplings double,
It blows so hard, 'twill soon be gone:
To-day the Roman and his trouble
Are ashes under Uricon.
A Shropshire Lad 31: On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble
The Thread.
I can safely say that, being born and bred in Middleton, Lancashire, with the great smokestacks of industry always in my gaze and grandparents who worked in the mills around my hometown, textiles are imbibed into my very being. They fill me with metaphor; they are a lens through which I view the world and my place within it.
And so here I am on this day - not in Lancashire, but in Northumberland - thinking of the weave that I am making in this world. I stand beside the stone effigy of a knight at St. Andrew’s in Bolam. He was, in life, no doubt enriched by the flocks of sheep that still dot the borderlands around these parts. His life was made from textiles too.
Outside the sky is brittle with blue, and the trees blaze with a fustian glow.
Inside, shadows braid the walls.
As I stand but a few inches away from the recumbent knight, I can’t help but reflect on the vast distance of time that separates us. A sadness lingers - a recognition that neither he nor I, nor the experiences we cherish, can endure forever. Yet, in spite of the world’s woes, I treasure every fleeting moment in places like this. It is feelings like this that bind us all, and places like this that help us feel part of something bigger.
I watch a tiny spider descend from the knight’s broken legs. Its thread seemingly endless, reveals and then conceals in the raking light. For every second it splices my view there is another where it disappears.
The light is changing quickly and I step back and take in the entire church. This is the thread that holds him and me together. This building, in fits and starts, has grown incrementally between then and now; there are parts that I observe that he has seen, and parts that I cannot see that we both have felt.
And the spider’s thread - of course, the knight would have seen that too. Perhaps on a Scot’s grave or a Roman memorial.
I move into the nave and look towards the textured walls around the chancel arch. The patterns remind me of a patchwork quilt, the mortar joints are stitched.
I feel an overwhelming sense of comfort - that just an ordinary bloke, riddled with imposter syndrome, who gets a little anxious about things, can access such a weighted place, humbled by its enduring grace.
With the light emboldened, I pull up a chair and place my sketchbook and paints upon it, and begin.
As I apply the first wash of colour, fragmented words come to mind. Slowly they form sentences, and as I remember them and paint, this Middletonian, this anxious imposter is deeply woven into the warp and weft of the building:
“The boundaries which divide Life and Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? Edgar Allan Poe.
I love my job, which takes me to remarkable places like Northumberland.
Thanks to commissions and the support of members, I’m able to access and share these extraordinary locations through the Genius Loci Digest—a weekly labour of love that reveals their beauty and history as a counterbalance to these challenging times.
Keeping the Digest free and open to all, and Woody on the road, relies on those who value this work. Membership isn’t just about funding—it’s about being part of something meaningful, celebrating these stories and the connections they create.
If the Digest speaks to you, now is the perfect time to step in and help keep it going. Thank you. 🏛 🚐 📸 🖋️🎨
St. Andrew, Bolam, Northumberland.
And, as the day moved on, I became the hands of time and made my mark upon the walls.
and then I made marks upon the pages of my sketchbook:
🎨 🎁 I've made a limited edition set of prints available for this watercolour here:
Andy Marshall
As I spent more time inside - the church moved on at its own pace.
The tower at St. Andrew is late Saxon and is delighfully textured.
✨ Members can see a glorious video of St. Andrew's, Bolam - culminating in a lovely shot of the Saxon tower, here:
Andy Marshall
The inside is full of spirit.
The chancel arch is Romanesque.
There are fragments that hold patterns with the Saltire Cross - this place is an in-between place - a place that sits within borderlands.
Remarkably - in this remote place - a bomb was dropped from a German aircraft during WWII and entered the church. Thankfully it did not explode. A window of remembrance marks where the bomb dropped. Much later, after the war, the German pilot came to the church for a service of reconcilliation, forgiveness and remembrance.
Sir Robert de Reymes of Shortflatt Tower
The effigy is thought to be Sir Robert de Reymes (also spelled de Raymes), a knight from the early 14th century. Sir Robert was associated with Shortflatt Tower (nearby) and is thought to have fought in the Scottish wars during the late 12th and early 13th centuries. His legs may have been broken to fit him within the niche. All the better for the spider.
Shortflatt Tower
Many years ago, I was commissioned to photograph Shortflatt Tower. Shortflatt is a fortified house with an ancient pele tower. Here are some of my photographs from the shoot:
You can stay here (and it's a great wedding venue):
Ample parking is available outside the church. What a joy to stay here for awhile. Made coffee and sandwiches so I could stay a little longer to finish off my sketch.
Andy Marshall
Kate Mothes
If you're into the Anglo-Saxon, here, I come across one of the most powerful pieces of nonverbal communication I have encountered. In our modern age, the equivalent might be Edvard Munch’s The Scream.
Also, whilst travelling in Woody on the way to a photoshoot beyond London, I make a detour to see a place that I've been wanting to see for a very long time.
And here is a place makes our digital dystopia (and the devices associated with it) evaporate into the ether.
✨ Church Towers Comperandum has new additions:
Andy Marshall
Andy Marshall
Andy Marshall
Recent Digest Sponsors:
Andy Marshall
If you like to get your ducks in a row early for seasonal gifts 🎁, I’ve produced a series of limited edition, signed prints from my travel sketchbook.
I'm afraid postage is only available in the UK, but, if you are overseas, I can produce a digital print for you to download the hi-res and take to your printer. Contact me for more details.
Each purchase helps support me as a creative with my Genius Loci Digest and helps keep me on the road on my camper-van-camino. Check them out here:
Andy Marshall
DIGITAL PRINTS
I also have a series of Digital Prints available worldwide - like the one above of Wells Cathedral.
Check them out here:
All Print and Digital Sales go towards Member Powered Photography - Thank You.
Atelier - My Art Shop
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Photographs and words by Andy Marshall (unless otherwise stated). Most photographs are taken with Iphone 14 Pro and DJI Mini 3 Pro.
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