A drive up to Salthouse Heath to take in the evening air and listen to nightingales. We came across the remains of a radar pylon which had been destroyed in an accident in January 1945 when a Lancaster bomber, returning from a night-time bombing raid on a German oil refinery, crashed into it in the dark, killing all the members of the crew. Now all that remains are the rusty stumps of the structure, adorned by a few fading silk poppies, virtually ignored by the ramblers that pass by, and by the siskin, the yellowhammer, the chiff-chaff and the nightingale.
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