Lammas Lane, the road that runs parallel to Esher High Street and which I have to cross to get to the friendliest pub in Esher, is turning into a bit of a treasure chest in terms of lost gloves.

Not content with serving me up with a pair of lost gloves, draped decoratively on fence-posts, this morning I spotted this one. It was pretty muddy suggesting that it might have been trodden on – a sad end for any glove, especially one which looked, from where I was standing, to have been quite fancy in its day. I’m guessing that one of the elegant middle-aged ladies that decorate Esher is probably a glove short as we speak.