Saturday, January 23, 2010
3) London SE: To the southeastern stockbroker belt, where private roads lead unwelcomingly down pine-shaded slopes, and the buses are empty because everyone's packed in their cars. To a ladylike suburb which ought to have a temple but instead has oaks. I find my quarry, once proud upon the hill, recently surrounded by a redbrick housing estate. Desirable properties, no doubt, but a pastoral panorama despoiled. Temporary fencing encircles the faux village green, giving the sodden grass a chance to recover before spring. Then the rhodedendrons will bud, the wind will blow, and local residents will waft barbecue smoke aloft from neighbouring gardens. This is how London fields disappear, post haste. [take a look]
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