I went for a brief walk this morning and was struck by how eminently English** everything seemed.
First of all, although not actually raining, it was so dark and wintry that the streetlights were on despite the fact it was nearly 10am:
Set in a hillocky green graveyard, the little square-towered parish church originally dates to the eleventh century:
More grey skies, strung with a giant web of electricity cables:
The scarlet post box and yet more grey skies and bare trees::
I suppose I’m missing a picture of the village pub and the old stone school to make a complete set.
** In fact, though, it wasn’t England at all, it was Wales.