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Signs of Christmas

And as the last signs of summer fade, so the first signs of Christmas begin their assault on our senses.

In Woodbridge though, we're spared the garish lights and shops singing Slade (well, on the whole; it seems someone in the town has sinned sufficiently that we all have to put up with occasional overdoses). Instead of the colour, we go for taste. How's this for a sight on a Sunday morning? A team of people hanging perhaps a hundred Christmas trees from the buildings that line our narrow lanes.

By next week each will sport a single string of white lights, the streetlights will be extinguished and the market square will take on a whole new magical feel. Not even Disney matches this.