Grandpas Garden
I Came home for a short visit to see dad and we went across to see Grandpa. I sat with Grandpa for a while in his bedroom looking out across the valley whilst he retold old army stories which I had heard many times before. After a short while dad came back into the room with 3 cups of tea we all continue chatting for a while whilst drinking our tea then dad asked me if I'd like to see what he's been doing in the garden “yes” I say “I'd love to.” Grandpa decides he's going to come as well so we all venture outside!
As we get to the back garden dad begins to point out which bits he's been working on and what he's done. There is a clear improvement, mainly due to the fact that he's cut down the hedge which separates the two sections of the garden this allows you to get a really good view of the valley. Whilst Dad is telling me this Grandpa is pocking his walking stick at the ground saying “I'll have to get out here and do some weeding.” This seems to be mildly irritating Dad as Grandpa seems to be more interested in the weeds than all the work he has done to the garden. At the side of grandpas house his new neighbours are re building there house, in its present state it seems quit an imposing structure with all its scaffolding up, as it drastically alters a space which I have known since my earliest childhood.
We walk down to the bottom garden along the way dad points out all the flowers in bloom. The delicate structure and colouring of some of the flowers is quite extraordinary. They are like jewels from another world. As I look at them I start to think how silly this thing called art is and how completely unable it is to compete with such natural structures which lie unknown in the corner of my Grandpas garden .
Once we are in the bottom garden we can see all the new housing estates which have been built over the last 7 years. They still sit oddly for me within the context of grandpa's garden, as this was all moorland when I used to come here as a child. It seems like we are looking down upon a different reality. I am glad to be stud at a distance from them, as they seem to suffocate me somehow. It is as if they are saying hey everything's normal everything's fine, don't worry, aren't we friendly everything is clean and shiny here, almost as if they are little mazes which people could loose there whole life within without even realising. They don't seem to work in relation to there surroundings, as if they could have been placed anywhere in the UK . Grandpa seems equally irritated by there presence. I think to my self if they seem so alien to me then how odd must they seem to him?
I decide to gather the three of us together at the bottom of the garden for a group photo the first attempt goes a little wrong as I stand in front of dads head which I realise at the last minute and try to move out of the way which makes grandpa laugh. On the second attempt I get it right but on reflection maybe the first was better! It is nice to see a picture of the three of us together (just missing Graham).
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