England, I have visited you this last week. Land of my birth, home of many of my relatives and friends. I have to say, I was shocked. Where do I start? How about the grass verges? They were deep in discarded rubbish, a patch of woodland planted two generations ago by my family was knee deep in trash, including, would you believe, a flat screen TV, still in it's wrappings. The houses encroach ever closer to the farms, cars are everywhere, aggressive looking oiks wander aimlessly clutching fast food, discarding the wrappers. Dog shit, neatly wrapped in bags, adorns every hedgerow like some kind of hellish Christmas decoration. Shopping is the religion, consumption is the god. Hugely corpulent people wander the streets I visited, stuffing greasy looking pastry clad snacks of vaguely animal origin into their maws. There seems to be little self respect, let alone respect for others, there seems to be little responsibility and few morals. It is saddening. This is not the England of my Grandfather, it's not the England of my Father, it's not even my England. I was saddened.
On Boxing Day I went to see the hounds. I saw the traditions, I saw charitable donations, I saw not a scrap of litter, I saw lovely clothes and footwear that was up to the job. Then I had lunch in an old inn. It was superb, the service was excellent and the surroundings pleasant and I realised that my England was still there, still hanging on in quiet decency, still kept alive by those who love the land. I was encouraged.
I don't know what the answer is and of course, it is down to my personal taste that I do not wish to live cheek-by-jowl with others but I cannot help but think that all of the problems of England are caused by over-population. I don't mean by any particular racial or religious group, by any nationality or sect. Just by people.
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