I began writing this late on a Friday evening, here at The Cairn, after an incredibly warm and beautiful day, sitting in the back garden and enjoying all the local sights and sounds (with the help, I might add, of a particularly fine Lockdown discovery, Keller Pils, courtesy of South Bristol brewery Lost and Grounded). Long, sunny days has brought forth gardening from me, and a sudden yet irresistible impulse to clear the hedges at the boundary of our property. For many years, the ‘overgrown’ area has served us well as a place for nature to thrive, as well as the focus of quite a few Man Friday and Man Alive activities. Particularly memorable was the Sunday Funday about three years ago, when Tim from the Lee Abbey Community turned up with his chainsaw to chop down the intrusive fir tree in the front garden; and around 30 people came along to help shift it, piece by piece, into the back garden, where the barbecue area still has log stools in its memory. The enthusiastic Noise team’s support, the year after that, was another high point. As was the Man Alive scarecrow, terrifyingly presented at the sitting room window, far too late one summer’s night. Then there were the incredible poppies, the year after we moved in. Enormous heads and so numerous. I recall carving a trail through them and being completely awestruck. A timely recollection on VE Day. And also the butterflies and moths, and caterpillars, and the birds. And the sallow tree (I think) in the garden. As a small child, I used to chase butterflies and moths, with a large net, at great personal risk; and encourage caterpillars to roam freely around the house – a hobby that came to an end, partly through the trials of youth, and partly through the complete disintegration of my butterfly and moth collection (all bar the small pins). So, strangely, having my very own nettle patch has been strangely restorative to me. And I am pleased to report the success (to at least some degree) of cinnabar, tortoiseshell, peacock, comma, red admiral, painted lady, speckled wood, brimstone, common blue and small skipper. But another part of our journey has been to do with seeing a building that, for a while at least, had a negative and challenging recent history, transformed again into a place of warmth, welcome and hospitality. Part of that process has involved making bold steps and deliberate physical changes that represent a departure from a fortress mentality and an embracing of a more open and trusting physical environment. Clearing the hedges at the edge of the garden, which had grown to around 20 foot high and 10 foot deep in places, and revealing for the first time an impressive 8 foot boundary fence that is still largely intact, has felt strangely liberating. It is all now so much lighter and more open; and we can see, and be seen by, our neighbours in a way that feels very similar to when we first arrived here and began to make changes in 2013. We were also interested in a recent, well written, Bristol Post article, entitled ‘The nine oldest buildings in Bristol that date from before 1500’, which described The Cairn (by its former name, Holy Cross Vicarage) in this way: 'The first of the buildings on the list not to be a church or part of a religious complex - although it was a vicarage - and it's not to be found in the old city or leafy Westbury or Clifton, but in one of the areas of Bristol that is the most deprived - Inns Court.' 'The estate fills the corner of land between Knowle West, Imperial Park and the ring road, but in the centre is an old vicarage whose central core staircase dates from the first decades of the 1400s. It is believed to be the oldest residential building in Bristol'. https://www.bristolpost.co.uk/news/bristol-news/nine-oldest-buildings-bristol-date-4074105 We are intrigued and amused, I think, rather than concerned, about being described as: ‘not … a church or part of a religious complex’, albeit that we are technically both of those things!! And, if our medieval tower does indeed represent ‘the oldest residential building in Bristol’, that is some privilege, and one that we do not hold lightly. We are drawn, once again, to these words (from Isaiah 58:11-12): The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.
5 Comments
Ian Watt
10/5/2020 16:31:01
So amazing! Isn't that such a God thing that actually it's a place of residence and the Holy Spirit residing alongside us and among us in that place. Feels like God still has a very special purpose for this place.
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robert
10/5/2020 18:42:02
Thanks Phil - I'm glad that the "story" around the building/land is still providing inspiration and encouragement. "Not by might, nor by power, but BY MY SPIRIT says the LORD". Already, great things ARE happening in people's lives and a light is shining and giving direction, and it is all about JESUS - in ways that are often surprising. A favourite song of ours is based on a Scottish metrical setting of Psalm 133, "There is a place of commanded blessing where brethren in unity dwell" by Robin Mark & sung by Shona MacDonald
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Alisdair Longwill
11/5/2020 18:21:16
Thanks Phil. An interesting and helpful blog.
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Graham Sims
11/5/2020 20:07:12
Thanks Phil...good stuff. That verse in Isaiah 58 has been one that has been very important to me, especially in the early days of my career in dealing with dreadful housing in the city. It has been like a call on my life. Love it !!
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Philip Lawrence
12/5/2020 12:46:59
Thanks for your comments, everyone!
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