On my way to the Lake District in May 2019, I stayed a night in Lichfield in the English Midlands. I’d arrived there exhausted and a bit scrambled from the perilous drive north from London Gatwick, but I gathered my energies and spent the afternoon exploring the town and visiting the Cathedral.

I recently came upon the notes I took that afternoon. Instantly they recalled to me the feeling of that visit and the grace I encountered there. I share them with you in order to remind us both that it’s worth taking notes on the world, on our experiences and thoughts and feelings. This little notebook is more than just a map of one afternoon’s adventures; it’s a direct portal to them.

Here are some of my quick fragmentary notes:

  • Such beautiful voices – yearning, affirming, exhorting
  • Candles lit at the foot of a gilded angel – or angels lit at the foot of a gilded candle
  • saints are stories
  • a choir is a cathedral – or builds one, engraving the air in arcs and flowers
  • the director wears a red skirted coat that blows and pleats like a flower

Here is a little poem:

Now that I’m sitting here in eternity

it’s futile to hold up my little flag.

I let the wind take it.

I am a bare branch,

a shape upon which the candle

casts its light and shadow.

 

Here is a little description:

A clergyman, smiling, gentle, invited me to stay and gave me a lovely seat in the choir stalls. I was cold from the rain and sometimes disappearing into a dream – two days, nearly – without real sleep – but I feel I received a gift today, this evening.

The choir singers were, some of them, very young with high, clear voices.

What I will remember: an old lady in a long plaid skirt turning at the end of the service to cast a look of such devotion at the altar I felt it run through me. I still feel it.

A few minutes later I glimpsed her take out a key and let herself into a house a block from the Cathedral. Across the street the lilacs hung as heavy as wet grapes on a vine.

 

If you are a writer, an observer, a traveler, a looker at and a wonderer as I am, filling up little notebooks is a way of life. It’s amazing that this small book (a Field Notes notebook in case you were wondering) holds not just a Cathedral but a whole town, several writers and their homes, a number of poems, and my exultation and interest beside. I’ll say again: keeping these little books is worth doing.