"In the crowded, busy city, people do not have time to concern themselves with what another does or does not. Conversation on public transport is kept to a minimum, bank robberies in progress go largely ignored and those unfortunates who collapse on the main street with a heart attack are just as likely to be perceived as drunks and stepped over by talking mobiles glued to one's ear than have an ambulance phoned on their behalf.
But in the wide-open spaces of the countryside which borders the village of Haworth, life's slower pace will always lag behind the noisiness of its residents and there is nothing that remains unseen. In this land of Bronte, life never goes unobserved; your neighbours and the church cat keep watch on you more than you realise. They miss not one up-to-date piece of gossip or fail to spot a newly trodden blade of grass on their windswept moors and green fields where lovers roam in search of their pleasure of soft ground; particularly those married couples who are wed to different parties!
So, beware ye lovers of the glade who seek out freshness from a marriage that has not yet had its full years. Beware ye wanderers who stray from thy marriage vows in search of new and overdue excitement, for I see thee from behind yon tree. No long grass can conceal the presence of thy sexual peccadilloes and the harm thou wreaks upon an already broken home in Haworth. No secret is safe from Nature's watch when the eyes of the Haworth Hawk and the black church cat are upon thee. So, get thee back home to thy marriage partner forthwith before they realise thou hast strayed again and while there still remains time to repent and mend thy wicked ways. Walk no more the long grass of thy summer pleasure when there are better things a married man and father to thirteen children without gainful employment should be about." William Forde: March 24th, 2017.