Up from the beach where the cliffs come to an end is the last small patch of Oldton Wood.
Dad would have driven through here on his way to the beach. I suppose it would be a painful reminder of how his own life had become blighted.
In previous decades the whole of the north side of the town would have been covered in trees. Indeed, until 1940, all Oldton brush handles would have been made from local timber.
Alas, the infamous barkwork epidemic described by Jonathan's blacksmith decimated the forest and now all that remains is a dismal copse.