Tomorrow is the start of Love Parks Week (July 12-21).

The town park, like much of our social infrastructure, was born in the Victorian era, in Derby. In 1840, Joseph Strutt, whose family had made a fortune in the textile industry, donated 11 acres and commissioned the leading horticulturalist of the day to design a haven amidst the smog, dirt and squalor of the industrial town.

Free for two days a week, Sunday and Wednesday, the Derby Arboretum attracted thousands of visitors each week to see its 1,000 different species of plants, trees and shrubs; public education and public recreation.

Strutt’s initiative soon inspired similar endowments in Liverpool and Salford; the principle of securing landscaped, open space in the heart of industrialised towns and cities for public health and enjoyment was established.

As a young child, I stayed with my grandmother in Hythe in Kent (I used to think this was for my benefit; I now realise that it was largely to give my mother some respite).

Ladies Walk (established in Edwardian times) was one of the highlights of the visit. Beautifully kept herbaceous borders a stone’s throw from the sea front became the perfect spot to play hide and seek and build dens amongst the exotic plants and lush foliage. We fed the ducks on the military canal and kicked a ball about on the open space.

I revisited recently. Gone were the carefully tended coloured and fragranced beds, replaced by grass and weeds; barely recognisable as the elegant promenade that featured on hand-tinted Edwardian postcards of the time.

Parks are under threat.

As local authorities’ budgets are cut and they struggle to maintain statutory provision of essential services to the most vulnerable, the discretionary funding from which parks are maintained is in jeopardy. It’s a vicious circle; parks deteriorate as a result of cuts to maintain them, they become less attractive, public support wanes, budgets are cut yet further.

It is imperative that they are maintained, for practical and symbolic reasons; they are publicly owned accessible spaces which are free and available to all; rich and poor, those with gardens and those without. They are bulwarks against the creeping privatisation of public space and private malls taking over our towns and cities.

The public health agenda has moved on; clean air is not the problem in Salisbury that it was in Salford 170 years ago; but tackling obesity, encouraging children to exercise and to remain active throughout their lives and into old age is our equivalent.

The park run in Churchill Gardens and toddlers learning to ride a bike have replaced gentle perambulation.

Whether they are good for another 170 years, will depend on decisions our councils will take over the next few years.

Love them or lose them. We are in danger of squandering Strutt’s visionary legacy.