Before I moved to London, I lived in a town called Ware in Hertfordshire, where today’s picture was taken. I’ve been thinking about the town this morning, as they used to hold a Dickensian Christmas evening every year in December (I’m not sure if they still do?). Thousands of people would pour into the town from the surrounding area; there were food stalls, and a fair, and Christmas lights, and it was all wonderfully festive.
The gate in today’s picture was at the heart of the action, standing as it does on the boundary of the churchyard and the town square. The square itself, which lies beyond the gate, would be full of the hustle and bustle of the fair; while the churchyard itself was a relative haven of calm, an oasis of dark punctuated only by the light coming from the church windows. This picture seems to me to speak of a boundary, the gateway framing the way between the gloomy light of the churhyard and the bright expanse of the town square beyond.