Hexebart's Well

The bells, the bells

I’m writing this in bed, with the window open to let in a chilly morning breeze and the gorgeous ringing of the bells on York Minster at the end of the Sunday service. I am agnostic. I certainly don’t believe in the Christian idea of god (I mean, who calls their god “God”? It’s like calling your cat “Cat”. What’s wrong with a cool, stirring name like Thor or Athena?). No disrespect intended. I should stress, I’m not an atheist either. I do believe in… something. On some days. Just not all that palaver about devils and angels and saints and so on, nor in a man in the sky who gets cranky if you put your genitals where you shouldn’t. I mean, like he’d care, right? And like he’d be a he anyway. If there is a god, I’m sure gender wouldn’t be involved: what would be the point?

Having said all this, I’m still glad that people spent a lot of time and money in the past building awesome places like York Minster so I can enjoy them because I do love old churches and I do love church bells.

I have now settled in York for an extended stay, and have an incredible apartment just behind the minster. You can see the view from my sitting room window above. Between the view and missing my children, it’s a wonder I’m getting any work done at all, but I am reading and writing up a storm. I have several projects on the go, and the difficulty is deciding which to work on in any given day. I’m feeling like fiction today, so as soon as I’m done with this post I’ll get into my novella. If I’m quiet, it’s because I’m working. Or listening to bells.