Tag Archives: “York Minster”

Fog and Ashes at York Minster

 

I know I keep showing pictures of York, and particularly the Minster. A bit repetitive maybe? Apologies, but it does repay the revisit. It’s one of those places I can’t leave alone. Well, I did grow up here, the roots go deep.

Minster in Fog1

 

I left York at 18. The day before I left a new Bishop had been consecrated in the Minster. He had questioned the literal truth of the Virgin Birth and that night a storm raged over the city, lightning struck the South Transept and the roof was engulfed in fire. That morning, as I made to leave I went to have a look at the ruins. Charred wood smouldered a metre thick on the floor. The papers wrote of the Wrath Of God. I turned my back.

Minster in Fog4

 

These are not images of smoky hellfire and damnation cursing the unfortunate Bishop’s apostasy. Merely a bit of fog early on an October morning. Makes everything look a bit eerie though…

 

Minster in Fog5

 

Minster in Fog6

 

I don’t turn my back anymore. And I love how beautiful the Minster looks. No ashes here. And no idea what happened to the Bishop…

Minster in Fog7

 

http://www.yorkmix.com/life/history/how-the-york-minster-fire-sparked-an-unholy-row-in-the-times/


I never realised how beautiful York was…

Youth is wasted on the kids, that’s for sure. You simply don’t see, the focus in elsewhere – on the self obviously, and you miss so much. I think that every time I go back to visit my parents in my home town. York. It’s so beautiful, and when I grew up I was blind to it.

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Minster at dusk

Perhaps you just need to be older to appreciate the beauty around you. Or maybe you need to move away. At any rate, whenever I get the chance I love to photograph my home town.

The centre of York looks truly beautiful, especially if you get up early and get the shots before the hordes descend. And the Minster is at the heart. As a kid I used to go here every Xmas Eve for the service on nine lessons and carols. Maybe I did sense some of the beauty of the place even then. I didn’t realise it, but a germ of appreciation was there.

the oldest window

the tower

So now, when I go to visit my parents, I make the effort to get up early. See if I can grab a shot that captures something of the home town. Perhaps I re-live my younger days a bit. At any rate, I look, and I marvel. If only I had had the patience to look more closely as a child…

Petergate

Early morning, no-one around...