Ikenography

Walking to Iken church; two miles from Snape along the river, through the marshes and up toward a point called The Anchorage and where the Alde is renamed Long Reach. The tide is out and the silver mud exposed in soft folds where it buffs up into the main channel. At the edge of one bank a couple of Avocets dabble, hard to distinguish at first from the surrounding Shelduck population. A storm chasing up from the south holds blue-black cloud a few miles away beyond Snape itself; the sunlight ahead reflected back in the falling rain, and through a break in distant trees, it can be seen like a moving veil. Everything behind and beneath it suddenly becomes translucent. When it catches up with me, it soaks me in a matter of seconds and throws up the smell of the earth; a mixture of sandy soil and elderflower. The caustic cut of wind and rain then gives way to a break in the front and the sun comes through again in time to dry my legs and back.

At the back of my mind is the prospect of spotting the Marsh Harriers, but despite constant reports of sightings they have eluded me and this weather will keep them well hidden. But I have the pleasure of spying on a male Reed Warbler who shows himself, calling from a high post.

The church holds the remnants of a 9th century Saxon cross and a font covered with strange hybrids, part human, part beast - they have fish like faces and wings and clutch sheaths of corn to their breasts, or else they are large women with mad hair and staring eyes - presumably they are hellish aspects kept down by the sacred water above. Or else the water without as it starts to rain once more. I sit this downpour out in the dark, dry porch -

Iken, Suffolk
20/5/06