The Countryside Slumbers

The commuters have left on the train to London, children are in school, but this morning the land sleeps on. Grey curtains of cloud allow just a veiled and muted light to fall gently upon the fields. Deep silence hangs over the distant trees, with just a whisper of autumn gold. 

We're starting today from the little Essex town of Newport and heading into farming country. Most of the fields are now lying brown and bare after the bustle and activity of harvest time. Flocks of Rooks probe craftily for any worms they can find in the newly cultivated fields.

An old barn stands battered and proud on the skyline as we follow a farm track along the edge of a wood.

Cock Pheasants parade around self-importantly, blissfully unaware that it's now the shooting season in England. Keep your heads down at the weekend, my beauties!

A handful of picturesque thatched cottages form the isolated hamlet of Rook End.

Our path then dives into woodland and follows a tiny stream through the trees where just a hint of autumn is scattered on the quiet waters.

Debden church was once dowdy and unremarkable till the owners of the Hall added fanciful pinnacles, a tall spire and an ornate apse. All this was simply to improve the view of it from Debden Hall and to impress any visitors or passers-by. The spire has long gone and its replacement is a more modest affair.

But we can still go inside to see the fancy apse with its miniature vaulted ceiling.

We saw this building in a long-ago post. All I could tell you about it then was that I had no clear idea what it was. I didn't know much more today but met a man, out walking his dog, who thought it was a stable block for the hall. When I got home I rummaged through the internet once more and - hey, presto - found a historic buildings report that confirmed that it once housed stables, it also contained a coach house, harness-rooms, storage for hay and accommodation for a coachman and  stable hands. It was older than I thought too, dating from the early 1700s. Nowadays it languishes unloved and largely unused, apart from sheltering bits of agricultural equipment.

The ornamental lake is still here too, though the hall itself was demolished in 1936 as the family could no longer afford the upkeep. No longer required by the privileged few, the glistening waters can now be enjoyed by anyone out walking the footpaths.

And those paths lead us through this little valley, back towards Newport. In the lower right of the picture are the remains of a WWII "pill-box" (a guard post or blockhouse). There are several of these in the area, perhaps associated with the nearby wartime airfield.

It's so deserted and peaceful here today that it's difficult to imagine it teeming with soldiers and military vehicles. Today, apart from us, there were just a few sheep and a flock or two of Wood Pigeons.

Then we're suddenly back in the busy little town of Newport which is mostly strung out along the road which, before the M11 motorway was built in the nineteen-seventies, was the main highway from London towards Newmarket and on to Norwich.

This is just one of the historic buildings that line the main street, a reminder of the heyday of the town.

Take care.