MEMORIES OF A CHESHIRE MOOR 99 



memory added an unnatural halo, a glory which was 

 never there ? Yet many of us still claim to be 



" A lover of the moorland bare 

 And honest country winds," 



wid it is small comfort to know that we must travel 

 further and toil harder to satisfy our cravings. The town 

 grows; its needs increase; it extends octopus arms, grips 

 and demolishes the wilds. The craze for utility overrules 

 aesthetic claims, and, too late, the public conscience 

 awakens to the startling fact that the preservation of 

 open space means more than sentiment fresh air and 

 health, the conservation of that individual energy which 

 alone makes the citizen worthy of the city. Perhaps 

 Carrington Moss was a better place forty years ago. 



