As I climb the hill towards our house I note our flourishing bay tree, which regularly has to be pruned to prevent it obscuring the first floor window in front it. I remember planting it shortly after moving into the house about 20 years ago. It was a miserable little thing in a pot too small for it; doubting if it would survive, I planted it in the rough, shady side of the front garden, and let it fend for itself. Fend it did, and has now achieved around 30 ft and a burgeoning spread, which discourages competitors.
Among items of information listed under the heading Britain the Vital Statistics in the Independent: average number of miles walked per person per year in Great Britain - 189.
In the Grove, with most of the trees, now stripped of their leaves, you can see where, last summer, birds had their nests. "Bare, ruined chapels where, late, the sweet birds sang".