It is with a very sad and heavy heart that I must annouce the passing of my favourite sit spot.
Well, not it's passing so much, as it's no longer my favourite sit spot.
It has become the victim of it's own success.
There, beside the Greensand Way was a massive and gnarly sweet chestnut tree with some logs beneath it. The view looked south, with an Elizabethan manor house behind the trees to the right, an associated park with deer and a good many kestrels and, more recently, numbers of buzzards. And that ever present call of crows and the laugh of green woodpeckers. Best of all, though, was that view south looking across the Weald.
Once upon a time it was a secluded and separate spot that one could take rest and shelter beneath whilst out for a bike ride. There was (and still is) a pathway some 200 odd yards away, and along that one could see the rare walker.
That was fine.
But as the years wore on the number of walkers increased. That was OK as well, so long as they stayed to the path. Then slowly the number of people (and their dogs and the three most aggravating words, 'he's only playing') who would divert and come walking along by my sit spot increased.
I accepted it stoically. They would wander pass, often a friendly 'good afternoon'.
Then the number of people taking that diversion increased. It got to the point that you could guarantee several people passing.
And then the worse happened.
Despite the fact that I would be sitting there, enjoying the splendid isolation, some people would stop and sit on the logs as well. Invading my privacy.
Of course, they are more than welcome to. It's not my tree or logs. But it's not a question of 'rights', it's a question of courtesy.
And now it's getting too frequent.
The rot has been setting in for some time. I've tried to tell myself it doesn't matter.
But it does.
Time to let it go.
The only consolation I can take is that with the increase in numbers has NOT come the inevitable increase in litter.
It has stayed clean and unspoilt.
But just too many people.
RIP, my once and faithful sit spot. We've had some good times and I would like to thank you for the very many hours I have sat beneath you, watching the birds, having a ham roll, doing some writing, or maybe just doing sod all.
I hope you are the same friend to the (annoyingly) great many people who now pass.
I'll try to be strong, but I'm having a bit of bottom-lip quivering...
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tissue please.
