Folkestone Leas

Folkestone Leas

we would never go away from Folkestone.

After the tea and bread and butter, which instantly appeared as if the kettle had been boiling for us all the time, we ran out to the Leas, and said we would never go away from Folkestone.

How, indeed, could we think of doing such a thing, with that lawny level of interasphalted green stretching eastward into the town that climbed picturesquely up to meet it, and westward to the sunset, and dropping by a swift declivity softened in its abruptness by flowery and leafy shrubs?

If this were not enough inducement to an eternal stay, there was the provisionally peaceful Channel wrinkled in a friendly smile at the depth below us and shaded from delicate green to delicate purple away from the long, brown beach on which it amused itself by gently breaking in a snowy surf.

An excerpt from ‘Certain delightful English towns, with glimpses of the pleasant country between’, by William Dean Howells, Harper & Brothers, 1906