Little Gransden,Cambridgeshire The iron wheels spoke of long-ago summers and children cadging rides on a hay cartHidden from sight of the neat farmhouse with its whitewashed walls, sash windows and trim thatched roof, or the farmer’s thought processes and plans seemed laid bare. Screened by a brick barn there was an open-air repository of the “has been,could be, will be, or can’t-bear-to-share-withs.
What the rest of us might store in private was open to view here from the public footpath that ran alongside,with only a waist-tall fence separating me from an eclectic assortment of stuff.
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Source: theguardian.com