If I should die, think only this of me;
That there’s some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England.
This, from Rupert Brooke’s poem ‘The Soldier’, came to mind when I was looking at this photo that I took a few days ago.
This corner is ‘foreign’ in the sense that it is Scotland and not England.
But of all the vernacular architecture I have seen in Scotland, this reminds me of England most of all.
And here is the ‘pre-black-and-white’ version.