... was such a lovely day on the Saturday that Owen and I decided to walk to Grantchester. We saw some leafy water, which looked like a million fishes, and a leafy postbox, which looked like a door to another world:
We also saw Jeffrey Archer's garden, which had some rather awful statues of sheep and naked shepherds; I took some photos of them, but I'm not very good at taking photos of things -- I prefer taking photos of the shapes of things. And I'm not very good at that either, to be honest. I took a photo of some trees and their reflections that looked like the letter 'K', but now I come to see the photo it reminds me more of the shapes in Dali's Swans Reflecting Elephants:
Only, well, without the swans or the elephants.
We stopped at a church, awkward reverence and all that, with Harvest Festival decorations treading an equally awkward line between Christian and pagan. I am used to churches feeling cool and sealed, like the smooth wood of a box which need not be opened; the piles of vegetables on the pews made it feel as though something earthy and leafy had invaded that box. And on the cross decked out in grapes and bread, looming over us in the darkness, I did not find the Hanged Man.
The church used energy-saving lights. Very Cambridge:
Lots of books, too:
Later we found our own harvest gifts, in the shape of a box of windfalls that somebody had left outside their gate for passers-by to help themselves. We took a couple, and left a note to say 'thank you' (you can see it tucked in the side of the box). From the looks of the trees we could see over the stone wall, they weren't short of apples:
On the way back into town, we crossed the train-tracks at the back of Addenbrooke's. There's no level crossing, you just have to use your head. Here's Owen, using his head (though not, despite what the photo may suggest, to support the sign):