WHISPERING SMITH: Unseen, unsung, volunteers help keep our town bright

One of the beds full of wildflowersOne of the beds full of wildflowers
One of the beds full of wildflowers

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A grey morning moistened with a light sea mist, a Sussex '˜fret' following the rising tide.

The East Green was deserted except for a dog walker and a lone figure pushing a metal wheelbarrow across the parched grass quickly browned by the few weeks of brilliant sunshine.

He stopped every now and then to fill one of the many holes littering the area with a dark compost, tamped it down and moved on.

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