Parks, Parishes and Pubs

October break finally came giving Hilary and Daniel (the gentleman vaguely eluded to in previous posts) the opportunity to go on a proper date. The couple, both ridiculously involved in school and church activities, finally found the time on a Friday afternoon.

Daniel devoted the entire day to Hilary, perfectly tailored to her taste. The weather showed them favor. The sun was bright and the air crisp, giving them a deliciously autumn day. He took her to his hometown for a picnic, followed by an appropriate outing to the Roman ruins at Veralumium.

As the sun began to laze on the horizon they sauntered, arm in arm, from the ruins to St. Alban's Cathedral. Hilary was unceasingly tickled by the cobblestone streets, houses, trees and especially the flint stone walls. After reverently exploring the cathedral they stopped to hear the end of a service where a girl's choir was singing. While the girls filed out, two by two, Hilary shared her sadness in the fact that the SDA churches do not celebrate the art and grandeur supported by the Anglican and Catholic churches. The opulence of these churches, so often reproached by protestants, was not seen as an outlet for artistic voice but misdirected funds. Artisans had employment because of the augustness of cathedrals; whereas strict protestant churches neglected the arts and often discouraged them. A sense of sanctity was also something Hilary wished could be attained by Adventist churches. The reverence observed when entering a church or cathedral--the holiness--was something Hilary truly desired in worship.

When they had enjoyed enough reverence and Anglican architecture they moseyed out the church doors and began the journey back to the car. On their way, passing what Daniel said was the oldest pub in England, Hilary's historical curiosity got the better of her and insisted they at least take a peek inside. Stepping through the door, they were taken in by the complete contrast in size between the building they had just left and the one they now entered. The ceiling was so low that Daniel had to duck the beams. Feeling very much like a halfling, Hilary was immediately delighted with the petite size of the place. The music of Norah Jones played over the stereo with an occasional Beatles tune in between, the irony was not lost on the two wayward youths. Venturing up a narrow set of stairs, they decided to stay and have a drink. Being an Adventist theologian, Daniel ordered a juice while his heathen history student requested an espresso. Both satisfied with their choices, decided to retire with their beverages by the fireplace, circa 1000AD.

A few hours and conversations later, Daniel decided it was time to return Hilary to her sister (who might worry about her). The walk to the car should have been a sprint, but the lack of light made them cautious about their steps. The cold air cut through their coats and made them thankful for each other and the promised warmth of Maximus (Daniel's blue Fiat, Punto).