A month ago I was staying in Chipping Campden, in the Cotswolds. Having read nothing about the village before I went there, I consulted the OS map. A mile to the north were the familiar words ‘Burnt Norton’; the old house that gave its name to the first of T.S.Eliot’s Four Quartets. Eliot visited the … Continue reading ‘Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged’