Humming into the void
DO you know about the South Somerset Hum? It isn’t the sound of bees in a cider orchard or Morris men girding up on the village green, nor the buzz of an instrument, like the homely humstrum of William Barnes’s dialect poem, whose ‘_ did ring the string,/As _ the wires did clang’. I’m talking about a relentless, is keeping local residents up at night.
