Frampton Marsh

This is Frampton Marsh in Lincolnshire. Isn’t it beautiful?

No, actually, it’s not. It consists of boring plains, expanses of gloopy mud and few landmarks to break the monotony. Yet here thousands of wading birds and feathered migrants from abroad gather to feed, including the rare Wilson's phalarope and the lesser yellowlegs. What might be ugly to my eye is rich to these exotic waders. The wonderfully green pasturelands and drumlins of our more attractive Bowland would offer a poor diet by comparison.

Do not mistake outward beauty for inner nourishment. The most popular books often say little worth repeating and the grandest church walls echo nothing but trite platitudes from their marble pulpits. Go to a tumbledown shed and hear God’s word preached and be fully fed, or attend the tallest cathedral and be offered nothing but a grain of rice.

Better is a dry morsel with quietness,
Than a house full of feasting with strife. Proverbs 17:1, NKJV