Monday 25 July 2011

HIGH SUMMER LOW EBB

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How beautiful today has been with the bright sunshine the warm gentle breeze and the murmurous humming of a million insects going about their busy lives. The sky has been a landscape of mountainous white clouds adrift among the blue and high almost to invisibility dozens of swifts wheeling and calling to each other with their characteristic screech. A perfect summers day to be sure, except that now there is a cloud, my own personal cloud looming large on the horizon.

Today as I picked the wine berries and collected some apples and while I cut courgettes for dinner I could not help wondering if this would be the last summer for my lovely garden.
I had promised myself that I would be philosophical about it, that I would say with an air of relief that it was getting too much for me and that it was an ill wind...etc. but to say the truth the thought of watching the bulldozers move in and to see the ancient fruit trees cut down is breaking my heart.

There is no need to tell you that of course I shall fight to the bitter end to save it but suddenly I feel desperately tired. The documents outlining the planning application fill a folder and I must put together a document which refutes their bogus claims and illustrates the need to keep this area intact, a daunting prospect and one which I must face alone. There is a time limit for objections and it will take several days to complete my objection, how I wish that this was my sons week off so that I could enlist his help with the technical stuff. He is tired and has been unwell and in any case I make it a policy not to place upon him any extra burdens while he is at work, he is under quite enough pressure as it is.

So I shall battle on although just now I really feel like hiding somewhere quiet and crying for a very long time. I am one who must fight, I cannot give up, but the cost of all this campaigning is taking its toll and every moment I spend writing takes me away from some important household task and things can soon pile up. There is a fog in my brain and I cannot see what to do, yet I must do something ,and soon.

Through my whole life I have wanted nothing more than to live in peace and be left to potter about my beloved garden, it is a small ask and yet so many times have been forced to fight to survive,I am battle weary and I am getting old. Planners, and developers have been the bane of my life and here I am again about to begin what will be perhaps the most important battle of all.

You see this is so much more that just my garden, it is a piece of social history and a way of life which though long since gone should be remembered in places like this . This kitchen garden has been here as long as the house is was built to serve, its ancient walls and old moss covered trees are a part of the heritage of this small London village.

This garden was here when the artist Turner lived in a house just across the lane, It was here when Vincent Van Gough lived and worked in the village. Kings and Queens who visited the nearby stately home would have driven past this spot and perhaps noticed the hollyhocks growing against the mellow brick walls. This garden kept families supplied with food through wars and hard times and it should be allowed to remain for the benefit of others long after I am gone

The titled Lord who owns this piece of land is in a perfect position to see that its history and tradition are maintained for future generations to learn from and enjoy and I am certain that as he is acknowledged as one of the countries riches t men he does not need the revenue that the sale of two tiny houses will bring . Men such as he should be the guardians of heritage, nobles oblige and all that, sadly too often these days this is not longer the case.

I write this way for God knows what reason? Perhaps a sense of hopelessness and the feeling that for me their will always be another battle, and another, and another. Perhaps it is just that I am feeling sad. What ever the reason forgive this maudlin ramble through the emotions of an old war horse. Tomorrow I shall be better, I promise

1 comment:

  1. Good luck with your fight.

    It seems terribly unfair that your landlord should choose profit for himself over the undoubted beauty of your garden and all that it and its history contributes to your community. The world, sadly, is full of selfish greedy men, and it is a shame that honest, hard-working people such as yourself and your family should suffer from the whims of those who can see no further than the ends of their own noses.

    You have my sympathy and my best wishes in your struggle.

    Good luck, and don't let it get you down!

    HommeDePlume

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