The Song, not the Singer . . .

Yesterday, after a short mention of the inventor of the modern ploughshare, I wrote about that bucolic character the ploughman -  and his lunch - but today emphasis returns to that six letter word rich in literature and history, the plough itself.

Here in rural East Anglia where agriculture has been the mainstay of life over the centuries there is no shortage of reminders of that important implement, not least in pub names, of which we have at least half a dozen in the immediate vicinity, but Suffolk is also richly endowed with rivers and a long coastline so it seemed appropriate today to illustrate my journal with a visit to Snape, a little village on the river Alde where plough and sail can be seen side by side.

The old Snape Maltings which formerly served many breweries quenching the thirst of farm workers has over recent years become a Centre of Musical Excellence under the lead of composer the late Benjamin Britten and his life partner Donald Pears, with some buildings converted into study or practice rooms and others serving compatible trades, as well as a number of shops and restaurants and residential units and of course a fine auditorium now the hub of activities for the annual internationally renowned Aldeburgh Festival.

Oops! . . . I risk the danger of information overload if I don't stop right now, although I haven't told the half of it yet, but more can wait until my next visit, when I hope the weather will be a little kinder than it was today when a bitter east coast wind once again sent me hurrying home for a bit of warmth.