New Town, Old Roots

 What's this then? It's All Saints, the parish church of Milton Keynes – the original Milton Keynes, that is, the charming little village that gave the new town its name and is now surrounded by its sprawling namesake. I was there yesterday, in winter sunshine, and had a good look at the church, inside and out; it's very fine, in my favourite style, the one we call Decorated (and the French call 'Flamboyant' – flaming), characterised by flowing lines and curves, especially in the window tracery. The nearby old rectory is also rather wonderful, and, as with many areas of the MK footprint, you would hardly know you were anywhere near a modern new town (though the sound of traffic is hard to escape). In the churchyard of All Saints are buried the remains of a hundred or so late Saxons whose bones were excavated in a field nearby. Farther on in the walk we passed through – on a metalled path, incongruously – a fine deserted medieval village. This 'new town' has old and deep roots. It was a sunny, blue sky day, for a wonder, and I saw, as well as drifts of Snowdrops, my first Winter Aconites of the year.
   Of Worthing I have little to report except that it was extremely windy, and at one point I had the humbling experience of being very nearly blown off my feet by a gust that must have been at least gale force. I think I have probably exhausted the subject of Oscar Wilde in Worthing (see here and here), and, looking for further literary connections, I discovered that two of our greatest nature writers – W.H. Hudson and Richard Jefferies – are both buried in the same Worthing cemetery. I must look into this...