Clovelly, Devon.

Peter and John speaking to a lame man left by his friends at the temple door.

An outstretched hand pleading eyes. ‘ Please?’

Peter: ‘ I don’t have any silver or gold! But what I have I will give you. ( Did Peter have enough? Could it run out?)

In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth ( the place that had nothing good in it) rise up and walk!

Those eyes sparkled and he walked having been born lame.

Try Jesus. Unite your weakness to His strength.

Jesus speaking: ‘ My grace is made perfect in weakness.’

2Corinthians 12:9

Sandy speaking: ‘ Do I have enough to give you? I don’t know! But Jesus never runs out of love and care.’

Now for this privately owned historic village, Clovelly in North Devon.

Held by the sea or
 held back by the rock face from the sea
Smooth grey, grey pink
In parts white lined
Red, black or black red
Weathered more than your face or mine
Forever a part of or not
What could make not?
A desire to take one and paint it
Or toss it back.
A lightning strike to split it, a repositioning of land through sudden landfall?
Perhaps continually changing but ever-present. Ever present, really!
The village of Clovelly was originally given by William the Conqueror to his wife Matilda!
Held privately by two families since 1377 til now!
Seems like forever 
But is it?
700 years or 70
No, not forever.
Ever is infinity. What is that?
I don't know that!

A community that works. Real people living amongst the tourists in places we see.

We will walk down. No cars just a donkey and a few sledges through the village centre till you reach the sea. You may come by road to the side of the village where you can pay for a land rover ride.

We walked in step with a family and both looked into a cute garden full of little written messages of welcome.

I laughed and said: ‘Shall I knock at the door?’

‘Some houses, they do allow you to see inside,’ said the lady.

I walked down the path and gently knocked.

The door opened a person with a white beard and tousled hair opened and said:

‘No, this house isn’t open to the public but thank you for asking!’

The lady with the collie and family laughed and said:

‘ He at least said thank you for knocking.’

Then there were three places we could go into linked by yellow. The yellow-painted fisherman’s cottage between  The Chapel of Saint Peter’s and The Kingsley Museum. Clovelly was where Kingsley spent his childhood and wrote the novel Westwood Ho! Then there was yellow lichen on the fishing port wall and a yellow cardigan on a lady by the beach.

Let us look at these: the beach, the three places we could go inside and the yellow I spotted. These are my photographs as are all of them when I travel or I am in our garden.

The beach and a weathered face.

The places

When all the world is young, lad.

Press on the above to hear Charles Kingsley’s poem.

Clovelly Estate.

Take care,

Sandy 🙂