After looking at the church we wandered down one of the paths leading out of the graveyard which took us along a walkway covered over by branches and then down to some marshy fields, our way was somewhat blocked by overgrowth and as it was raining we doubled back and took one of the other pathways leading out of/into the church grounds and headed towards the river. The path was similarly overhung with trees giving cover to those using it and we thought about streams of townspeople heading to church on Sunday morning, from servants to landowners. Later in our trip when we were waxing lyrical about history again I said that my version of history was really a mix of costume drama and books I've read so may not be very true to how it was. I think David agreed but hey we painted some pretty pictures. 
As we were walking the rain stopped and the sun broke through, we were happy to see house martins,  or maybe swallows, gathering on the telegraph wires, getting ready to head to warmer climes. David pointed out places he had connection, his uncle's farm and a newish housing estate that he remembered as a field.

 

Some months back my friend David mentioned the church in Heckingham as being particularly lovely and as we both have a bit of thing for looking at churches we went on a mini South Norfolk church trail on Saturday. As it happens our trail coincided with a county wide church trail so we were greeted in two of the churches we visited by welcoming women who were ticking off visitors. 

This was David's stamping ground so he led the trip. Parking up in Loddon by the war memorial which stands on edge of the grave yard. Loddon is a pretty impressive church with an interesting screen depicting a child being murdered rather gruesomely and the aftermath of the murder in which people were framed and then the child was made a saint because the monks in Norwich wanted a saint to rival the Bury St Edmund's saint. I'm guessing Bury's saint is Edmund. That's the gist of the story anyway, more research may be needed to verify and elaborate. There's scratched graffiti too on the pillars which is always interesting, the urge to leave a mark is timeless I think, perhaps an animal instinct.  

Loddon is a big church and at the back there are two doors- one from the porch and one from inside the church - leading up some stairs to a priest's room equipped with a small fire. I think being Vicar of Loddon probably wasn't too shabby a gig in the olden days when everyone went to church. Loddon is a nice little market town that I imagine has boasted all the amenities needed for comfortable living for quite some time.