Very readable, all about the landscape, the people and how they’ve adapted it. Very much a memoir that set me off remembering a couple of times, very nostalgic. Some lovely passages towards the end and like some of his poetry. Touching comments about the refugees, how time passes and how the area is changing. Some lovely stories reminding me of my dad, though mum is the one from the cambridgeshire fens.
80 years on I’m cycling down the same roads thinking eerily similar things and wondering if each time I find a sentence I’ve said before in Storey’s writing is a result of us being from the same place or unoriginality on my part
A mostly lovely memoir, deeply rooted in time and place, yet timeless in its humanity. I wish Edward Storey hadn’t ended it on such a dreary, misguided note though.