Mending Fences

Robert Frost: "Mending Wall"

Our garden is once more fully enclosed and indeed there is much rejoicing!  To quote Robert Frost: "good fences make good neighbours".  It’s a shame that this could only be accomplished by sacrificing our ash tree.

I'm not exactly the outdoors type - the closest I've come to roughing it was a youth hostelling holiday (by car) the summer before my A levels and a long weekend in a static caravan in Barmouth about 20 years ago - in October - brrr.  Even in Thailand, I declined a rudimentary beachside bungalow in favour of one further inland, with a proper shower and a flushing toilet (and a scorpion in the sink, but that’s another story).  To quote my husband: "let's face it - you don't do mud."  Well, namby-pamby softy I might be, but I appreciate the four elements and Mother Nature in all her glory.  And I love trees.  OK, I don’t go around hugging them, but they're wonderful and it breaks my heart to see them cut down.

Our property has five immediate neighbours: three down one side, one at the end and one on the other side. When we first arrived, there was a well-established ash tree on the border between us and Neighbour #3.  About six years ago, we agreed to pollard it because it overshadowed their garden.  Unfortunately, the tree surgeon arrived a day earlier than expected, so our neighbours didn't get a chance to cover their fishpond.  He scattered branches over both gardens and only did rudimentary clear up in ours.  Then, thanks to strong winds and horrible weather, the fence collapsed.  Repairing it was a total nightmare because the ash tree had grown too far across the border, and next door were on at us to cut it down completely.  Eventually the tree stayed and the fence was restored, but it left me determined that no matter what happened, no-one was touching that tree again.  I should add that we'd paid for everything, fence included.

So, last autumn, Neighbour #3, accompanied by Neighbour #2, approached Steve and asked us to pollard the tree.  Our Yggdrasil, bless its little World Tree heart and roots, had grown back bigger and sturdier than ever and the controversial fence was already severely challenged - even before the extreme weather set in.  Of course, I did the "over my dead body, look what happened last time, it cost us a fortune, it's not like there's that many trees left in this so-called conservation area..." speech.  In the intervening period, Neighbour #4 had cleared a substantial part of their garden, although this is now landscaped, laid to lawn with new trees and shrubs and it looks really beautiful.  And Neighbour #5 had cut back a particularly shaggy conifer - dubbed "Treebeard", which overshadowed just about everyone.  Apart from Neighbour #4's stunningly beautiful silver birch, our ash tree was the last tall tree standing.   Neighbour #5 had made a similar request when they tackled "Treebeard" but I'd refused. They got the speech too, and they'd only just moved in! 

I had to admit it: the ash tree was blocking the light from all our properties.  We found a different tree surgeon and he did a brilliant job, leaving nary a twig out of place.  I ended up with a pretty splendid Yule log and everyone was apparently happy.  Alas, no: the poor tree had been so severely pruned, it looked like a totem pole and the trunk had grown so thick, that there was no question of putting a fence straight across without one of us giving up some of our garden.  As an interim measure, the fence panels on either side of the tree were made as secure as possible, courtesy of the husband of Neighbour #2.  However, we were incapable of reaching an agreement on how best to plug the gaps in between, not to mention the fact that he'd shifted the boundary about 1ft in her favour on one side.

The dispute dragged on into spring, by which time none of us had the energy for further fence wars.  Even if we'd agreed on some way of closing the space, the tree would carry on growing and it would start all over again.  So in May we agreed to remove the tree and I made myself scarce while it happened.

You'd have thought that would have been the end of it, but no, there were further bickers about removing the stump and the on-going dispute over the boundary.  On the plus side, no tree at all was preferable to the totem-pole AND Neighbour #3 checked her deeds and said that the fence was down to her.  So, although we'd paid for pollarding, tree and stump removal, she'd pay for the fence.  She also conceded over the borderline.

So why, you may ask, did it take until the last day of JULY to get this done?  Well, the first person she asked was Mr Neighbour #2.  He said he'd do it, but made excuse after excuse until Steve suggested we tried someone else.  Sadly, this was someone we'd already had in to quote when we were looking for a gap-closing solution, and he never called back.  Finally Neighbour #3 asked her gardener to quote.  That was three weeks ago, but as of last night, still no fence.  So you can imagine our jubilation when the construction noises we could hear this morning turned out to be the Reluctant Gardener, installing the fence.

I can't see us ever being friends, but an Englishwoman's home is her castle - and maybe now, with metaphorical moats and drawbridges restored, we can be good neighbours.