The Peelite and the Oak Tree


There's something beguiling and lovely about the Olden Days.

A slower pace, but harder work; labour requiring muscle.  Tree and grass, axe and spade, craggy skin unable to be airbrushed away.  A closer kinship to creation, and clothes that remain, oblivious to fashion.  And a Prime Minister who would walk the London streets at night, trying to convince prostitutes to change their lives.

There's more colour in this photograph than its pigment might suggest.


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