My faith, at least in the winter, is fleeting. I don’t chase it down inside a cathedral; instead, I look for it in the Southwark churchyard among the pebble paths, York stones and granite setts. Out here, the Liquidambar trees begin to mumble about spring, and the aromatic shrubs hint about the spirit of days to come.
So, yes, you can have the cathedral along the Thames, but give me the churchyard to find what winter has stolen.
Photo: Torito de Lana