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Just as the sun was starting to set across the tranquil reach of the Alresford Creek, I decided to find another local feature of considerable solitude - the ruins of the burnt down St Peter’s Church at Alresford.

Martin Newell, the Pop Genius of this Parish, tells the story in words with far better insight and exposition than I could hope for. I settled instead to try and capture the mood of a late autumnal afternoon in an abandoned place of worship in photographic form.

There has been a Church standing just up from the Creek since the 12th Century. Nothing special in the wider schema of post-Norman places of worship; but somehow the fire that destroyed St Peter’s in 1971 has transformed the site from an average parish church into something really quite special.

The empty shell of the main structure has now become exposed, revealing 700 years of running repairs within. The building has become more alive than it probably ever was when in use. Unshackled from the protocol of Christian worship, St Peter’s now provides a place where you can poke around and truly explore some 12th Century architecture.

I stood abreast of where the altar would have been located. Some of the original tile work remains on the exposed floor, and here you can take up a commanding position, as thoughts race through your mind of the seven hundred years of history that have passed through these walls.

Although a small space, the simple maths of the timeline tells you that St Peter’s has witnessed some incredible moments over the past seven centuries - scandal, gossip and death. Just another day in rural Essex village life.

But it wasn’t just another day back in 1971 when St Peter’s was finally erased as place of Christian worship. Local legend has it that witchcraft, a popular practise around these parts, played a role in the destruction.

An elderly lady emerged on Saturday, just as I was about to step down from my imaginary altar. She was on her way to attend to a grave, and we engaged in some local conversation.

She told me the local legend of how the “dark forces” of Alresford are rumoured to be responsible for the destruction of this ancient building, back on one night in 1971. Myth or legend? Either way, I wasn’t prepared to hang around until sunset to find out.

I surveyed the scene from the altar once again, and then thought of another question to ask the elderly grave attendee. I turned around, and within a matter of only a couple of seconds, she had vanished.

Oh Lordy.

A quick look around the graveyard once again, but no sign. The timeline of dearly departees stretches from the pirate grave of Robert Bray in 1724, all the way to some 2009 gravestones. You can take away our church, but you can’t take away our sacred land.

Which is all rather reassuring. St Peter’s remains a deeply religious, magical and indeed mythical place. Here’s hoping it can remain standing for at least another seven hundred years.