Fine sunny day. Delighted to find myself one hour earlier
than I thought, as the clocks had been altered.
About 12 there was a tremendous explosion,
but whether a ‘plane crash or a rocket difficult to say.
Went down to Nayland,
and had tea at the Sissons who are staying there in a little house near the
river. Nowadays the feeling of going
“over the border” when one goes into Suffolk is intensified, the Defence
Regulations giving an extra spice. The
natives have endless troubles to put up with, and have always to remember to
carry their identity cards and all that sort of thing.
In the evening cycled up towards Stoke. Scotland Street looked lovely in
the evening light, with the mellow ancient houses, dark green trees, and groups
of swans flying slowly overhead. Not a
sound of a ‘plane anywhere.
Back to Boxted, had supper, and
early to bed. Lay thinking of what I am
to say to Spivy tomorrow.
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