04 August 2011
It’s disgraceful! It lets down the whole neighbourhood. Well, it does if know it’s there, It’s behind the allotments. If you clamber up the old barracks wall from where BT park their vehicles, or if you fly the police helicopter over a Rovers match, you’ll see it – a tangle of field maple, ash, sycamore, elder, holly, ivy, and brambles.
And the noise! Sparrows jabber, blue tits and great tits cheep, wood pigeons hoot and flap. You can make allowances for the robins and blackbirds, the occasional goldfinch is no problem, but as for the crows and magpies, not to mention the jays – well, it’s blue murder. And the sex and violence come nesting time is something terrible.
The foxes are just taking the mickey, though, aren’t they? They lie there bold as brass on your freshly dug beds, and dig up your onions. Trouble is, they use all that undergrowth as cover to raid the pub bins from. I’ve seen them with their chicken bits. In springtime the females make noises that would make you think the damned were having human flesh for breakfast.
Anyway, if your idea of peace and quiet is some chippings in the front garden with a phormium sticking out the middle, then you’ll invite your local councillor to suggest this so-called woodland is developed into a surprising number of dwellings called Bramble Drive. If not, you’re with the foxes and jays, not to mention the blackbirds and goldfinches.
Post by our lovely guest blogger Old Teasel.
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