Harkstead

St Mary, Harkstead

Not far from the Stour estuary, and looking across to the modern world that is Essex, Harkstead is a lovely village; more a scattering of settlements really, like so many on the peninsula. Away from the village centre, I found the church in a quiet lane, surrounded by woodland and meadows, as lovely a setting as any in Suffolk.

The mellow tower of St Mary.

The warm colours of the tower betray the extent to which septaria was used in its construction; obviously, it is more sheltered from the sea than Bawdsey and Alderton, the towers of which succumbed to the elements in the 18th and 19th centuries. The chancel is broadly Victorian, and they patched up elsewhere, too, but it was all very attractive.

The lanes were wildly hedged, the summer breeze a pleasant relief from the high sun that simmered the road surface. I abandoned my bike for the coolness of St Mary's interior.

Most striking on entry is the fragment of wallpainting opposite. I've no idea what it illustrates; Mortock identified devils wings, and a ball extended by a clawed hand. Perhaps this commemorates the occasion on which Ipswich Town sold their souls to become more successful than they ever had a right to - but then, I'm a Cambridge supporter.

The interior is otherwise broadly Victorian, but excellently done; one could have few quarrels with what happened here, except possibly the stone pulpit.

Fortunately, it left unrestored the Easter Sepulchre, which is a textbook example of the genre, up on the north wall of the sanctuary.

The reredos is gorgeously camp, by the Powells, who are more famous for their glass. It is one of the best late Victorian examples in the county.

I loved the Minton tiles, which have surely come of age. This is as fine a 19th century interior as south east Suffolk has to offer.

I was disappointed to find the guidebook sold out, and said as much in the visitors book. I was delighted to receive one in the post later in the week from an enthusiastic churchwarden.

In the previous few months, Harkstead had lost its village shop and its post office. Local people were fighting to keep their pub. Are villages like this in danger of becoming rather pretty ghost dormitory villages, for professionals working in Ipswich? Will their churches lose their central role in the lives of their villages?

Peter Ward doesn't think so. He is a Churchwarden here, and tells me that the PCC is wholly committed to keeping the church open to anyone who wants to visit it. They know they run a risk, but have decided that it is one they should accept. After all, isn't Faith always a risk? The local community keep a vigilant eye on their church, and because of this St Mary is the heart of a living community.

David Sheepshanks makes the supreme sacrifice (no one outside of Suffolk will understand this joke).

A beautiful Easter sepulchre east of the vestry door.

Powell diversifies, and gives us a great reredos.

Timelessness is an over-indulged epithet. After all, part of the beauty of our ancient churches is their sense of continuity and change. And how will our communities survive without change? Harkstead may not. But I like to think that there is something timeless about this gorgeous setting, and that the pattern of summers, flickering again across its high trees, is one that will be recognised by the ghosts of passing generations.

St Mary, Harkstead, is just to the east of the B1088 Ipswich to Holbrook road. I found it open, and the local community is committed to enabling access - if you find it locked, there'll be a keyholder nearby.