Monomaniacs herald the ruin of English nation

‘Grey’s Elegy’ does in verse what cow painters do in oils. ‘The lowing herd wind slowly o’er the lea ... And leaves the world to darkness and to me.’

Last week, we travelled through England by train, London to Manchester, for a family gathering at my eldest son’s home in Sale. Of the sights I saw through the train windows, loveliest of all were the solitary trees in the pastures and wheat fields on the first half of our journey.

Magnificent oaks, mature and comely, were the most common: