In his fortnightly column MARK SEDDON reflects on the death of Major Oak and why such ancient trees matter to us
The long hot summer of 1914 has been described as a picnic perfect. It’s a poet’s description.
In the iconic windmill in the pretty little North Norfolk holiday village of Cley next the Sea, poet Rupert Brooke was staying with another poet, Frances Cornford and her classics professor husband, confusingly also Francis.
From the windmill the three of them would walk for miles along the dunes. They bought fish from local boats and picked wild marsh samphire. They argued about poetry and about their hopes for the future. They enjoyed frequent picnics.
CJ ATKINS commemorates one of the most dramatic moments in working-class history
JIM JUMP looks forward to the International Brigade Memorial Trust AGM taking place in Belfast later this week where the spirit of solidarity will be rekindled


