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Richard Jones

The soft wanderings of an old , at one with the contours it follows, speaks across the centuries of the countless generations of and who lived in not off the . The sense of and , and we have now lost.

A sunken, hedged single-track lane, mud down its centre, snakes quietly into the middle distance. Each side, fields laid to grass. Woodland stands on the higher ground. The arrow-straight telephone lines reveal the arrival of modernity. But they stand at odds with the soft curves of the landscape and the sympathetic lines created by those who have lived in this place over the centuries.
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Mark Burton

@rlcj Its astonishing just how far people used to walk.
Pickwick papers: the men of the house go for a five and twenty mile walk after a big breakfast on Christmas Eve.
Even allowing for literary exaggeration.
Sam Weller visits father in Dorking and walks back to London.

And then there's George Borrow.

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