AFTER reading letters from several of your esteemed correspondents who invariably moan about the community they live in or the shortcomings of their upbringing, I felt I should say how lucky and privileged I feel.

You see, I was born 65 years ago in a small village called Southmoor, which was then in Berkshire.

My father was lucky enough to inherit around eight acres of farmland, one field of which was an old water meadow.

How many children today can walk home in the evening safely with sticklebacks and minnows in a jam jar while listening to the evening calls of curlews, barn owls or nightingales, or enjoy the smell of new-mown hay, grain being harvested, the buzz of honey bees finding their way home after a busy day foraging, or cows sitting in the shade chewing the cud?

How sad today’s youth are subjected to sitting in their bedrooms, moving coloured dots around on a computer screen and poisoning themselves with strange foreign substances.

I only wish they could experience a childhood like mine. You could not buy a high like that.

BOB SODEN, Nobles Close, Grove

 

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