St Cuthbert died on Inner Farne and there is a small chapel dedicated to him amongst the seasonal migrating seabirds:

Strong stomached were the saints
Who to Inner Farne for solitude came.
Annually their congregations would increase
With raucous crowds of visiting terns.
Today the pilgrims brave the seas,
Salute the seals, gasp at the maid’s brave route,
And gently tread their way to the chapel door.
Mindful of the egg strewn path,
Where Cuthbert still cradles Oswald’s head.
On the rim of the font in the yard,
An artic tern, an epic voyager,
catches my eye before soaring skywards.
Try it, you might like it, it seems to cry.

In our life and our believing
The love of God

Inner Farne 23.05.2018