A hyacinth by any other name ...

A month ago all that could be seen was one small green shoot poking its nose up to have a look at the strange new world of my kitchen.
Now there are four flowering spikes of white and blue in full bloom. (The white one on the right is called Cynthia – so I can say ‘Hiya, Cynth,’ when we meet in the morning.)

This is very cheering, not only because for 2 days it has hardly stopped raining but also because of a related problem I discovered this morning lurking behind the sofa. A black mould covered the hidden wall and the wallpaper was shredding off with wet. Outside, the wall also looked very mildewed and as I bent to look closer a huge slosh of water fell on my head. The gutter was blocked, and in overflowing had saturated the front of the house. Rob next door has a long ladder so I set about putting it up. When he heard the rasp of aluminium on render my other next door neighbour, Nev, popped his head out and kindly offered to hold the foot of it whilst I climbed. Although the fact that he has had a stroke, does not see well and was currently watching the Sunday snooker after a prolonged liquid lunch did not fill either of us with great confidence. However, I ascended.

Visiting rooftops always provides a different slant on life. Usually we only experience the comfortable underside of them, usually masked by ceilings.They sit above us like broody mother hens, their down side keeping us warm and dry but on their upsides they bear the brunt of the wild world of weather. The roof of our terrace is of a bowed style often seen in older houses in this area . It slopes steeply from the ridge and then flattens out like a playground slide a few feet from the overhang. It’s tiled with concrete pantiles, an objective being that the water rushes down each corrugation. Not so now.
Instead, a verdant moss garden flourishes in smoothly sculpted mounds and humps, covering every inch of the overhang, much of the slope and is especially thick in the water channels. It is actually extremely beautiful and many small moss-dwellers must call it home. It had also completely blocked the gutter and was busy creating a linear peat bog; a secret carbon sink in mitigation of the gas bill.

Hardening my heart against all these eco-positives though I guddled and scraped along the length until with a satisfied burp the downpipe unblocked and went back to its job of swallowing rain water and debris. Ladder returned, Nev re-connected to the tv, a deep breath of hyacinth, job done – although it may be summer before the wall dries out.



p { margin-bottom: 0.25cm; line-height: 115%; background: transparent }