‘Is there honey still for tea?’ asked Rupert Brooke nostalgically from Berlin in his Grantchester poem of 1912.

And one assumes this is the kind of village which very shortly, in The First World War, the poor guys in the trenches imagined that they were ‘fighting for.’

But the other day it seemed completely unreal. 

The streets were deserted:

The road signs were old fashioned:


The impeccably mown village green had pretty stripes:

And this was the view from our table in the pub garden:


I half expected Miss Marple to hove into view, knitting peaking out the top of her bag.

 ‘Inspector, I think I know now who killed……..’

Lesley and I were visiting clients living close to this south Midlands village. 

Of course context is always important in garden design, but in rural situations it is vital.

So if we don’t know the area, a trip to the local village or town and its pub (!!) is essential to pick up atmosphere.

The garden we were there to see had huge potential, but as for this village I am still processing it. 

Of course I knew it was real, but it didn’t feel that way.

Nostalgic. Yes. Real? No! 


I was however quite sure we wouldn’t follow the lead on the Cordyline!