It was an icebound day in January 2009, the coldest month in Suffolk for years. Although the bulk of the snow was still a week or so away, the frost which laced the trees and lay heavily across the rolling fields isolated the villages and clarified the landscape. As I climbed the steep narrow back lane from Bruisyard, I could have been in any century. I cycled down into Cransford as the snow began to scatter wildly through the air about me. A man in his garden told me it was minus three, but it felt much colder. I had not been back to Cransford for ten years. Last time, I got into trouble for describing it as the dullest medieval church in Suffolk. This was harsh, and was partly a fit of pique at this being the first place in more than 400 East Anglian churches where I was asked to furnish proof of my identity before I was allowed a go with the key. As is so often the case with dull churches, the key is zealously guarded. This, remember, is a locked church in an area where virtually every other medieval parish church is open all day, every day.

My previous visit had been in spring, and at that season the churchyard is just delicious. The path up to the north porch is lined with cherry trees, and their blossom falls like snow. Confetti would be quite superfluous at a spring wedding here. Perhaps this also emphasised the contrast with the interior. Coming back now, I found the graveyard looking equally lovely, though for different reasons. I was quite excited - I wondered if I would respond differently this time, having visited another thousand churches since my last visit. I had certainly encountered a few duller than I remembered thinking Cransford to be, although none in Suffolk.

Munro Cautley, in his great 1930s survey of the churches of Suffolk, dismissed St Peter as drastically and dreadfully restored, insisting that there is nothing of interest. Unsurprisingly, Sam Mortlock disagreed, musing that as with any small county church, a visit is worthwhile. I had congratulated the church historian Roy Tricker for squeezing one of his guidebooks out of this building. Roy can always find something interesting to say about a church, and the hundreds of guidebooks he has produced for Suffolk churches are one of the particular pleasures of visiting churches in the county. But I recalled that there simply wasn't very much to see here. There were two little medieval headstops low down on the tower arch, and the 19th century font has a poignant inscription to two dead children, but that was about all.

Ten years before, I had finished exploring inside the church in less than five minutes, and had felt a bit embarrassed about taking the key back so soon after such a palaver getting it. Since last coming this way, I had developed a great interest in 19th Century glass, and Mortlock assures us that the Lavers, Barraud and Westlake glass here is from their best period. I had been looking forward to seeing it. But it was not to be. The church was locked, as expected, but there was no longer a keyholder notice. The sign on the gate told me that the Rector lived several miles off in Badingham, an impossible speculative trip on a day like this. Otherwise, there was no indication that the church was even in use anymore. It was all a bit frustrating. The cold was biting, and I could only stand rattling the door for so long. And then, leaving Cransford on the Glemham road, I noticed the large Baptist Church, rebuilt and rebadged as Cransford Christian Fellowship. It looked a lively place, and gave me another reason to think that St Peter is, in fact, no longer in use.