Sprinkled with magic dust in my memories, I was thrilled to have time to roam, however ridiculous my footwear.  Followed the cycle tracks for miles across the commons, with only the occasional ambush, to check out changes.  All remains so similar really apart from having to stand on tip-toe to see the wavy-line building behind the flats.  Rare breed cattle chomping away on Stourbridge Common and a few bank holiday stalwarts pulling away on the river were company on the way back.  Happy birthday D, great party.

‘This used to be real estate
Now it’s only fields and trees
Where, where is the town
Now, it’s nothing but flowers’

Talking Heads ‘Nothing but Flowers’

 

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