there'll be some changes made...(surely?)

One of my favourite writers is H.V. Morton. In the 1920s and 30s, he wrote a series of books about places he’d visited. His first major success was ‘In Search of England’ and I recommend it still today to anyone wanting to learn a little more about our country. His style is light, lyrical and incisive.

His words are sentient. They invite the reader to touch the old stones of an ancient monastery and to hear the lilt of the Lincolnshire accent. Morton’s skill with the metaphorical pen allowed us to sniff the sea, see the hidden and almost taste the salt of the Earth. He had a way with phrases that, frankly, earned him a fortune.

Sometime before 1927 (at about page 220 in my foxed and battered edition of ‘In Search of England’) the man visited Boston. His colourful observations on the experience are accompanied by a sepia image captioned ‘Boston Stump’ – the gaunt and dramatically high tower of St. Botolph’s church.

The image above is my version, taken from the same spot on the same bridge over 80 years later. Today, a new walkway spans the muddy Witham River near the church, the concrete sill beneath the river wall has replaced steep mud banks and trees are more bosky than in 1926. But otherwise the scene has changed little. Even the vertical wooden piling thrusting up at the front end of the sill was clearly evident in the earlier photograph.

A note about trees, by the way – I’ve frequently noted that when comparing ‘then and now’ photographs of British views, both rural and urban, the scene is usually far more verdant today than in Victorian or Edwardian times. Is this a result of the shift from log burning fires – or are we simply lazier in the 21st century? Discuss.

As if to reinforce unpopular opinion that little changes in Lincolnshire, I dare to repeat here a couple of lines from Morton’s text. He wrote “Boston today is an interesting study. It is typical of the great town that has come down in the world. Like many an aristocrat, it manages to carry on bravely, so that, unless you knew of its past grandeur, there would be nothing remarkable about its present condition.” I leave this offering without further comment.

Here’s another by-the-way: the day I took the photograph, I turned my back on a Charlie Parker LP I found in one of the charity shops. Later, I regretted my decision and returned to buy it. By that time, of course, it had been sold. If you bought it, please don’t leave a message telling me what I’ve missed.