While meandering through the Suffolk countryside one winter’s day, I came upon Moat Hall. Built in the sixteenth century, the Hall has been resisting subsidence and rising damp ever since. Surrounded by a narrow moat, as the name suggests, and muddy fields, it has a certain decaying beauty that draws me back whether I find myself in that area of the world. I love the Green Men that flank its gate, the shallow ditches where trout farming once took place, the ornery cows that guard its fields, and even its boarded-up windows. I imagine its poor owners spend much time shivering inside, but what a place to shiver in!