Any Old Iron
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
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Frequent tourists to Unmitigated England will be aware of the appeal that corrugated iron holds within its borders. Indeed those who stray into adjoining country will recently have seen a superb skeletal example waving about in the Cotswolds. They're a bit of an obsession at the moment, and I'm continually stopping the car in order to wander into muddy fields or to lacerate myself leaning over hawthorn hedges. Rippling with enthusiasm, you might say. Rather than rusting eyesores they usually manage to blend into the countryside as easily as vernacular brick or stone, and, as Commentator Wilko so rightly says, they're part of an essential working landscape. I've driven past this triptych of barns so many times, standing as they do in the Welland Valley where a minor road joins the A6003 at Caldecott, quite literally on the Leicestershire / Rutland border. But for some reason I'd always missed them, perhaps because of gearing-up to negotiate the road junction, until the other night they glowed like a beckoning beacon in the evening light. Barns and mission huts are the rusty staple of the corrugated world, but I get very excited when I find a two storey house like the one at Greens Lodge near Whissendine. Which on glancing at the map is also exactly on another boundary of the same two counties. (Cue Twilight Zone music.)
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