Under my umbrella
Walking past I complimented him on his sunshade and we got chatting. Although this is a route I frequently take on my walks I hadn't met him before. He told me he'd been born in a cottage just a few doors up and had lived in this house for 56 years. Was I on holiday? No I said I've lived not far away for 20 years - he knew the place and asked if I'd come down the old lane, he hadn't been up there for years. His father used to go and get pea sticks from the hazels and he'd kill adders along the lane. I said the hazels were still there but I'd never seen any snakes. He knew the cluster of farms where I live, he and his sister would go up there to collect mushrooms. One old cottage was so tiny they couldn't imagine how a living was to be made, with just a couple of cows kept. A dwelling I know only as a ruin he recalled occupied. Another place they'd call at, the woman there baked bread in an old-fashioned oven (like this one) and she say 'Would you like a yeast bun?' and she'd tear it in half and spread it with butter she'd made and the butter would melt and soak into the hot bun... he grinned, 70+ years later still relishing the memory of that childhood treat. Yes, there's been a lot of changes but he enjoys sitting in the sun and watching the world go by.
I just took the one picture, it's SOOC.