On a recent trip to Glastonbury, I noticed a couple of reports in the local newspaper about the sabotage of water management infrastructure on the Somerset Levels.
Giants have been part of Britain’s national consciousness ever since we had a national consciousness.
In a corner of Edinburgh Castle’s grand esplanade, there’s a small memorial that’s easy to miss unless you’re looking out for it. This drinking fountain with its bronze relief is a modest thing compared to the military monuments that line the rest of the esplanade.
I was in Oxford just before Christmas when I saw this sign and these ribbons on the railings at the side of the Town Hall on Blue Boar Street. I wondered who Ann Crotchley was and why her death, almost two hundred years ago, was being marked now, in this way.