A couple weeks ago we went out for an evening drive (it’s light until about 9:30) and on our way home we drove through Clipsham village for the first time. When I saw a sign that said ‘Yew Tree Lane’ I assumed it was another example of the English giving a small road an evocative name to taunt people like me. As we came trundling around the corner I saw a tiny Georgian house almost hidden by this strange clump of clipped yew trees. The sculptor in me loves shaped trees and hedges; the crazy woman in me loves yew trees…they’re poisonous and there are yew trees alive today that are well over a thousand years old. Magic! I craned my neck farther as the Goblin obliviously drove past a grass lane lined with clipped yew trees. I turned and said, ‘Did you see those yew trees? They’re clipped! I must go back!’ Of course I’d hoped he’d immediately turn back, but he merely said something like, “We’ll come back…it’s going to rain.’ and drove on. English goblins hate rain.
The following evening I reminded him I wanted to go back and see the clipped yew trees and he’d already forgotten them. How can anyone forget a lane of clipped yew trees? I made sure he wasn’t able to forget again so he drove me back this past Saturday afternoon. [Read more…] about Clipsham yew tree lane…