All around marshfield
Walking around my local village with a camera, or small town as it should really be called, reveals more to the beauty than the already engaged gaze can consider. Perhaps it is because I have spent a long time here, walked it so much or even endured all the seasons. I honestly don’t know. But what I do know is that I have never once got bored of it and if anything, it gets better every year.
A view from the self named “Pig Field”. Once the home of two local pigs.
Despite walking around for so many years, I still haven’t made progress remembering the names of the fields or who owns them. They are often the same thing. Instead, we have made up our own names so as to explain the route we have taken when sharing the event with each other after. “Where did you take her this morning?”. “Through the pig field and then down the lane and back up through the horse field”. A firm reminder of how many of these old country places got their names in the first place.
The old Andrews coaches home. Now the residence for new dwellers in the name of Andrews Lane.
The village is a mixture of old and new. A church dating back to 1600 or so and within a mile a brand new development with it’s freshly seeded grass and double glazed windows. An old style house that actually works.
The Old Market Square. No market and not square, but it is old.
The market place is where one suspects all the action took place a few decades or even centuries ago. Now it is a quiet and peaceful part of the village, accept on Sunday’s or event days for the local St Mary’s church and its large clearly still working bells.
The lone tree in the ‘Tree Field’ behind the Almshouses is one of the single most barometers to the seasons that come and go. From a bear weak frame in winter to a bold and strong master of the field in the height of spring. It’s an attraction whatever time of the year.
Mr Wippy & the Conettes. Classic.
Whoever coined the name deserves some credit here. Even the ice cream vans are ancient and I am pretty sure that this one has not only struggled to get to anywhere where there is someone in need of an ice cream, but certainly not been able to fully function as a refridgeration machine whilst there.
The Horse Field. Another field that no longer has horses, although I did see a deer on the day this photograph was taken.
The Green Lane barnes. One can only assume that hundreds of people have boldly expressed their desire to buy, renovate and live their dream on this plot. And yet here it is - in all it’s relic glory.