I wish when we moved into our house, I had taken a photo from this window looking into our back garden, and across the wall and the fence to the village. When we moved in there was a line of fir trees, along the back wall, completely hiding the house in the little road which runs down to the main road in the village. I always want to call it the High Street, but it isn’t, it’s Old Church Road, which I should know because my dad lived on it, next door to the Dolphin. It also leads to Uphill Hill on top of which stands the old church of St Nicholas without it’s roof, and a tower which was once the base for a windmill.
The fir trees are no more, we had them cut down soon after we moved in as they were so ugly, and I guess our neighbours in Westfield Road beyond our garden wall must be even more delighted as they are no longer cast in shadow. We painted the back wall white and we planted honeysuckle to cover it in something more fragrant and bee-friendly than coniferous trees. For some reason, although annoyingly vigorous, if rarely flowers and sends suckers everywhere and we can’t get rid of it. There is one tree remaining, not coniferous but it is evergreen and we have never been able to discover what it is. Its leaves are small, dark green and shiny, it has black flowers, tiny black flowers, which become small black fruit. It grows incredibly slowly and has developed a twin trunk. I don’t think it casts too much shade over the neighbours at the back, but its foliage is in front of their bathroom, so maybe they are pleased to have this natural curtain.
The left hand corner of the back wall as I look at it is concealed by the summer house, which sadly is falling into disrepair. It needs re-roofing, and some of the woodwork replacing, which no doubt will be expensive. Towards the right side is the garage, another wooden structure, but this is sound and strong with a sound strong roof covered with some sort of black material. The birds love to sit there and survey the garden, Westfield Road, the Victory Hall (the village hall) and the comings and goings of passersby on the other side of the fence. They are safe there and can choose to fly onto the roofs for a better view, or into the trees which border the school grounds. Beyond teh side wall is a massive bamboo, like a small plantation really. It conceals the entrance to the Victory Hall from sight, so I can no longer be nosy and so’s coming and going. A cousin gave us a single small spindly bamboo, now it looks like a green version of a disgraceful former prime-minister’s hair.
When we moved in, after we’d taken down the awful firs, the stone wall was bare, there was no summer house, the mystery tree was a sapling, there was no bamboo, the view would have been very different.
Unfortunately I have no images of the wall, the mystery tree or even the flowerless honeysuckle, but since, at last the trees are beginning to change colour, my featured image is of autumn leaves!
Lois Elsden 