Canon Librarian

To have an English Degree is to spend one’s life surrounded by metaphors.

The work on the tower is almost done. One of the tasks of the (Interim) Dean is to mark the completion of the work by going up the scaffolding to bless the cap stone and give thanks for all that has been done. Wisely, therefore, the Interim Dean thought he should have a practice run, and I was invited to tag along.

I was not sure I wanted to do this, but the wily COO reminded me that perhaps one should do it just because one could. The head of finance came too: cool and unflappable, accustomed to doing the impossible.

So off we went – staircases at first, with solid wooden platforms every few flights, for gentle soothing of the nerves. The first ladder was fine. The second ladder was fine. The third ladder was double and takes you out beyond the roof line. The Master Mason went up. The Interim Dean went up. The Head of Finance went up. And then it was my turn.

By the time my feet had gone seven rungs, my imagination had raced up three ladders, and my adrenaline hit the roof. No more. I was stopping there.

I knew that if I had to have gone on I could have – had there been a vocational requirement, say, to preside over a eucharist on the top landing, or to race up the ladders to rescue a manuscript from a zealous peregrine. But there was no such requirement. The Canon Librarian was perfectly able to stop there and enjoy a quiet hour with the corbies on the roof line.

No such luck for the Interim Dean. His vocation is to climb.