In 1963 we bought a house in Southfields, a few hundred yards from the All England Lawn Tennis Club. Every year since then we have, for a fortnight, had to elbow our way crossly through tides of tennis fans. During those weeks, Wimbledon Park, which lies beyond the wall at the end of our street, is given over to cars. That invasion irritates me as much as the human traffic. The park is shared space, but it is our shared space. I resent the intrusion. It is not grand landscape: it is bordered on one side by the raised track of the District Line, on the other by Wimbledon Park golf course, and is laid out in sports pitches and a running track. But it's a good place to throw a ball about and does have a lake where, once in a while, I check out the wildfowl.

LRB 19 August 2004 | PDF Download