My Mother’s Day outing of choice was a bike ride to show my daughter the line of trees marked with red and green spots, the song thrushes and the new open views across shorn fields. I’ve never seen the Church Tower and the nestling houses of the village before from Pretty Road. My neighbour reckons the bypass goes under Pretty Road which will become a bridge and National Grid will have to dig deep with their cables from Walberswick to Saxmundham.
The weekend has been peaceful. Bicyclists on their farewell tours, bewildered, mourning dog walkers and a lad in leather both days on a small motorbike who whizzed down the road and buzzed round the bumpy fields. Sticks with red tops and thick blue nylon string mark boundaries.The place is open to sabotage.
It is 7am but still quiet except for birdsong on a Monday morning. I dread what will happen today. The archaeological dig has not yet started. Sizewell do everything in the wrong order. I have an early Bronze Age fragment in the Ipswich Museum found in an Anglo-Saxon burial mound in my garden and the road is named after Edith Pretty. Let’s hope they find Theberton Hoo.
It would have been Mum’s 92nd birthday today. As the farmer across the road says, he is glad his father, the farmer before him, who died last year in his 90’s, is not alive to see this.
ness365 