The Future of Cherry Blossom Park (Part 1)

I was working on our latest songwriting project when I heard someone at the front door. Cecile called to say that she would go and see who it was. A few minutes later she brought the visitor into the room. It was Ben Henry-Lloyd. I rose to greet him.

"Ben. Great to see you!" I began before moving the conversation on to overdue pleasantries.

When I worked for his father - Willard - at Henry-Lloyd Construction, Ben was reaching the end of a long apprenticeship. Willard wanted his son to have practical experience in all aspects of the business, not only to understand that business and gain numerous skills, but also to appreciate the expertise and the day-to-day issues his employees faced. Part of that time was spent working alongside me in the office. Now that Ben is in charge of Henry-Lloyds, he maintains the high standards of the family business.

"You're right," Ben was saying, "We need to socialise more. You've done well with your songwriting since you left the company. I confess, we didn't fully understand your reasons at the time, but here you are now - writing for Lionel Grand and others, doing that musical... Great stuff." He paused. "Anyway, you're probably wondering why I'm here."

Cecile provided the reason. "He's trying to track down Rowan."

Ben nodded. "That's right. I called at his house and Angelica said he was working part time at Mellowdene Van Hire. I went there to speak to one of the Truffles and Eustace Barrington said Rowan was helping out in the garage. I went next door and Murphy Van Dyke said that he'd left for the day but he'd said he'd be calling at his sister's. So here I am."

"I told Ben that he's not been here yet," Cecile added as we took our seats..

Rowan left his job as an architect with Henry-Lloyd Construction some time ago in order to go traveling. He went missing for ten years before unexpectedly returning to Mellowdene, complete with wife and children. (I've covered that in previous tales.) Rather than returning to his previous career he has taken a sequence of short-term jobs in an assortment of fields. We explained this to ourselves as the remnants of his desire to have variety in his life. Fair enough, but he was a brilliant architect.

Ben sighed. "Whilst I'm waiting, I may as well tell you. You worked for us, and then you've had a long while not working for us. Maybe you can offer a balanced opinion."

"If I can," I replied.

"I need to speak with Rowan about the work he did designing Cherry Blossom Avenue," said Ben. "The company is faced with a problem."

o 0 O 0 o

Before I go any further I think it would be advantageous to give you an overview of the local geography. This will help you understand the positioning of Cherry Blossom Avenue in relation to other landmarks and more familiar locations.

My home - Butterglove House - has an address of number one, Dandelion Lane. (This is marked with a red circle in the partial map below.) If you come out of our front gate and turn left, you would soon reach a junction. A right turn takes you onto East Dock Lane which would take you past my favourite snack bar (marked 11) and on towards the dockyards and the river. East Dock Lane then veers left and changes its name to Yew Road. If, on the other paw, you should take a left turn out of Dandelion Lane, you would find yourself on a curving lane where you will find the residence of Horatio Seadog. This lane is called Bluebell Row and it, like Yew Road, both terminate at a long thoroughfare called Wedge Road, so called because it runs towards and alongside a significant geological feature called The Wedge.

How to describe The Wedge? Well, from what I recall of my school lessons, we have to go back to the beginnings of Sylvania. When the land was settling, denser rocks didn't settle as much. The Wedge was of those geological features that remained higher than the adjacent landscape and it is appropriately named. It rises steeply as it progresses southwest towards the river to the height of four or five critters and then levels off until it reaches the end. At that point some people might then refer to it as a small cliff looming above Wedge Road, but that sounds over dramatic to me. Granted, it looks a bit like a tall wall when one emerges from Yew Road but we are used to it. It can look quite majestic when the evening sun catches the variety of minerals embedded within. 

A number of years ago a group of Mellowdenians decided to take advantage of its height and arrange to build a house up there. It was a marvellous vantage point for looking down river. An access road was built which had to snake back and forth to make the gradient more manageable and this road became known as Wedgewynde. It led all the way to the end - a promontory overlooking the river - and it was there that the large house was built. Riverview Point. This is now the holiday home of Lionel Grand. (Marked 18.)

 

The elevation at other side of The Wedge was originally not as stark. It didn't appear quite as cliff-like. It was more akin to a collection of rocks and boulders that diminished in size as one moved south east.

Over the years, these rocks were plundered for building materials. Eventually it was decided to clear the remaining boulders away and it was noticed that the rock flats beneath would make excellent foundations for new homes. Nevertheless it would take a skilled architect to realise this and design homes to fit into that landscape.

Fortunately, Henry-Lloyd Construction employed an innovative architect called Burdock Rowan Ivory.

The cleared land extended from a large grove of cherry blossom trees all the way to the coastal road and the end of The Wedge where, high above, Riverview Point sat alone. During the planning of the homes that would become Cherry Blossom Avenue, there was a decision to carve some steps to provide additional access to the top of the Wedge. The comparative isolation of Riverview Point meant the house wasn't as attractive to families and there were periods where it was left unoccupied. The steps could help. Since Lionel Grand bought Riverview Point there have been ambitious discussions about adding an elevator platform to provide even more access.

Rowan designed each house differently because of the random nature of the land beneath. This appealed to his sense of creativity and he gave many of the houses different features. However, he wanted to ensure that the different designs didn't clash in appearance. On the contrary - he intended that their differences should give a sense of harmony.

Although the designs were completed, Rowan didn't remain to see the Avenue built. He had long desired to go "adventuring" and left Mellowdene as the contractors were assembling. Henry-Lloyd Construction oversaw the work by trusted construction companies brought in from outside the village. Rowan, of course, didn't return until ten years or so had passed.

By this time, Cherry Blossom Avenue was well established and considered to be greatly desired high-end properties. I think the term "all mod cons" is the vernacular. Rowan's artistry was admired, although many were unaware of the identity of the architect. I didn't know until comparatively recently.

I should mention, although I hope it is obvious, that the Avenue was named because of the grove of cherry blossom trees nearby. The grove was already enjoyed as a place to go and meditate and be at one with nature. Some tasteful paving and seating areas were added and the grove became known as Cherry Blossom Park. To solidify the connection between the Avenue and the Park, additional trees were planted, spaced along the Avenue.

o 0 O 0 o

The problem, as Ben described it, was triggered by the growing population in Mellowdene. Within the village itself, new houses had to fit in with the "feel" of the existing structures. Beyond the village, new homes tend to be more rustic. The Waters Brothers were capable of quickly erecting sturdy log cabins that fit in with the landscape but they were rarely called upon to build within the village itself.

Some months ago, the council had surveyed the villagers to find out what they wanted from new houses. Our mayor, Ramsey Nettlefield, had delegated the job of analysing the results to his deputy, Bill Waddlington. As a consequence, Bill wanted to meet with someone from Henry-Lloyd Construction and Ben went along.

He informed us that the meeting concerned Cherry Blossom Avenue.

It didn't go well.

o 0 O 0 o

(To be continued) 

 

The Unromantic

"You're not very romantic, are you, daddy?"

Hi. Darcy here. The above accusation came from my younger daughter - Helen - a few days ago. I was a little taken aback as this had no preamble, no earlier words to give me a little warning. Consequently my reply wasn't immediate, my mind whirling to find reasons for my daughter's curiosity. I didn't delay that long as my reporter brain kicked in, realising that the answer was standing before me.

"Why do you think that, darling?"

"Valentine's Day. You never buy mummy Valentine flowers or chocolates. You won't take her out for a meal on the day. I know you love her but you ignore the most romantic day of the year."

I played for time whilst I searched for a reason that may satisfy her. "You do know your mummy doesn't treat me either?"

"I'll be having a word with her too," Helen said after considering my point, "but what's your reason daddy?"

"Well, we like it to be special for us, poppet. With everyone else doing it, we feel it's not really for us."

"I think I see... but it seems a shame to me. It would be nice to be romantic any time. You seem to be missing out. Oh, well... Thanks daddy."

With that, she ambled out of the room.

It was then I heard a chuckle. Turning, I saw a face appear over the back of the settee. My elder daughter, Una.

"Where did you spring from?"

"Relaxing on the floor. Meditating. And I heard it was good for the back."

"And for eavesdropping?"

"A good reporter doesn't miss opportunities, dad."

Una's desire to become a significant part of the family business shows no sign of abating. She regularly pops into the office of the Mellowdene Examiner.

"Was this an opportunity, then?"

"You handled it nicely. Helen doesn't know about Valentine's Day like we do."

"Oh, and what do we know?"

"That it's a human celebration. I'm not sure how Sylvanians took it up. We seem to do a lot of that, what with Halloween and Christmas." She stopped abruptly, as if her speech had strayed into unintentional waters. "But they are fun, of course..."

Maybe she had a point but that wasn't what struck me at that time.

"So you believe in humans, Una?"

"Oh yes. My research supports that."

"And where did you do this research?"

"The records room has a file on them."

"You've been in the Examiner's records room?"

"Yes. Miss Antonia lets me go in..." said Una, hastily adding, "...as long as I promise not to look in the confidential file cabinets. Which I wouldn't."  

    

"Right..." Did I need to have a word with Antonia Petite? Probably not. 

"Anyway," she said, hurrying to change the subject, "I don't think you're unromantic. So what if you don't do all the Valentine Day stuff? You do other romantic stuff. I worked it all out."

"Worked what out?"

"There used to be three special days you'd celebrate with mum. Every year on the same date. We'd have babysitters and you'd go out. Flowers, little presents, a posh meal. Romantic stuff. And then it became four days. Same dates again."

I had a sneaky feeling I knew where this was going, but I let her continue.

"And then I realised," Una said, throwing out her arms, "that the new date started after Clop was born. I did some rough sums and realised that all these romantic dates were a few months before our birthdays. Me, Danny, Helen and Clop!"

"Erm..."

"So I figured you and mum were celebrating the days you found out that you had a new baby on the way!"

Well, it was as good a reason as any. I forced a smile on my face. "Well spotted, Una."

She beamed. "I'm going to be the best reporter ever. After you, of course."

What could I say? I settled for, "You certainly have the Fielding curious mind."

"I do. And now I'm going to lie down again and meditate for a bit. Only..."

"What?"

"Helen might be a little young to know this..."

I stopped myself from laughing. The age gap between Helen and Una wasn't that large.

"...so it might be a good idea to distract her. If she thinks you're romantic on Valentine's Day, that might do the job. Get mum some choccies."   

"Choccies."

"Just a suggestion."

With that, her head disappeared again.

I might have been mistaken but I thought I heard her add, under her breath, "and we like choccies."

Yes. Romantic.

o 0 O 0 o 

      

Upper Mellowdene

Mellowdene. The name was well chosen. A valley with a mellow climate and people. A wonderful place to live. Moderate rainfall, snow that rarely reaches the village and a mountain range that offers protection from the north wind. And yet, our friendship with the Polaris family has made us aware that some Sylvanians are more comfortable living in a cooler temperature.

The friendship has grown over the past couple of years. We periodically invite Pete or Paul Polaris with their families to socialise and have a meal at our house. We've dined out at the Mousehole (formerly the Seaside Restaurant) on occasion. Initially we hadn't been to their home because of travel practicalities. They have transport. We don't. And their home is... well, I will explain.

The distribution centre for their business - the Polaris Cold Store - is within walking distance. One has to follow a winding road through the foothills up an incline to a small plateau, but it isn't too stretching a journey provided that the weather isn't too extreme. As already mentioned, that is rarely a problem. (*See Hot and Cold - July 2021 - if you want to read of the time I visited the Cold Store.)

However, their home is further up the mountain. I had once been taken to see the nearby coolsalt processing plant but never to the Polaris's home. The road continues until it reaches a larger plateau where there is a community of crittizens who like the colder weather. We still consider these residences part of Mellowdene but for clarity the community has garnered the name Upper Mellowdene.

o 0 O 0 o

Cecile, the children and I were trundling along the mountain road towards Upper Mellowdene, driven by Sven Beaufort in his taxi.

"So you haven't been to the 'Upps' before," said Sven. "It can be a bit of a journey by foot. It's one of the reasons that we bought some cars. We hadn't thought of starting a taxi business back then but it sort of evolved."

"But Mellowdene Cabs are based in the village, aren't they?" said Cecile.

"Most are, since we expanded," Sven replied, "but we still have a couple in regular use for boogying up and down the mountain. It's enough since the Polarises have their own car and their delivery bikes. My brother isn't averse to providing lifts in his ice cream van, either."

Beverley's attention was grabbed by the mention of ice cream, of course.

"Do you make all your ice cream in Upper Mellowdene?" she said, attempting but failing to seem nonchalant. 

"They do," said Sven, "although I prefer the fruit snow cones personally. Vincent can't understand it!"

"We sampled some of those when we visited the Cold Store, didn't we Brendan?" I said.

"Yeah," said my son. "They were yummy, Bev."

"Hmm. I'd have to sample both to make an informed choice."

Brendan winked at me. "My sister is all for the facts."

Cecile glanced at him briefly before speaking to Sven.

"What do you do about post up in the mountains? Letters and parcels?"

"Well, Pete Petite used to cycle up to the Cold Store and leave post there, collecting any outgoing mail at the same time, but we now have the Snowdrifts living up here. Cheery is a delivery driver and she is associated with the Post Office. She gets about. With her motorcycle she started carrying parcels between the main office and the Tall Trees branch, but it made sense for her to deliver mail to Upper Mellowdene. She will carry our mail down to the main office too."

"Polar bears and reindeer. A proper little community," said Cecile.

"Don't forget the penguins. And the Husky family recently moved up from the main village. I think they missed the snow. They used to live in the snowfields of the South Atlandian Mountains, you know."

"So I believe. Tara Lapine-Frost mentioned it. That's right isn't it, Jack?"

"Certainly is."

 

"She's been a passenger in my cab a few times," said Sven. "Coming up here to collect rocks or plants initially but she has her own garden now." 

He was slowing down as we reached our destination - the Polaris's home. "Right. Here we are. Let the Polarises know when you're ready to drive back down and they'll contact me. I'll be at home until then."

We thanked him and left the taxi. He drove a short distance to some cabins nearby. Looking towards the Polaris residence I saw tiny Beth waving from the window.

We had arrived in Upper Mellowdene .

o 0 O 0 o

Barbara Polaris has prepared us a wonderful meal. A tasty brocolli and blue cheese soup for starters and for the main course a pastry lattice with a vegetable and mixed nut filling. Perfectly seasoned with just a hint of spice to give extra warmth.

Cecile complemented the chef and how she enjoyed that touch of warmth.

"Home grown spices," said Barbara.

"Yes," said Pete Polaris, wiping the last morsel of sauce from his plate, "it might be chillier up here but that touch of heat even suits we psychrophilic critters."

"Psycho what?" asked Brendan. Trust my son.

"Psychrophilic," explained Pete. "Critters who thrive in lower temperatures."

"Unlike psycho bunnies like you, Brendan," commented Beverley. "Thriving in being daft."

"Thank you, Beverley," said Cecile, glancing at me. "I think the cold has gone to our daughter's head. Maybe that ice cream dessert isn't a good idea..."

"No!" Beverley interjected hurriedly. "I was just joking. Brendan knows that, don't you?" she added, eyes pleading with her brother.

"Hmm. Let me see..."

 

There were chuckles around the table. During the hilarity, I happened to notice a secret signal Barbara gave her husband. Pete nodded and Barbara responded by raising her voice. Some sort of announcement, perhaps?

"Speaking of ice cream desserts," she said, "I'm afraid that must be postponed. We have something planned..."

"It's not my fault, Bev," whispered Brendan. "I've got some sweeties at home; you can have a couple afterwards."

Barbara smiled at our children. "You won't miss out. What you need to do is go and wash your paws, freshen up and check you are warmly dressed, for you are going to be taken on a short walk towards the Ice Lake."

o 0 O 0 o 

The Ice Lake is at the far end of Upper Mellowdene. The region gets progressively colder as one approaches the lake. It is an unusual body of water. You might expect a thick sheet of ice over the water - ideal for skating - but it isn't like that. There is a place nearby where critters can and do skate...

...but Ice Lake is different. The water is very cold, and penguins frequently swim in its depths. There is an element of ice - millions of tiny ice spheres - each roughly the size of a pea - covering the entire water surface to a depth of four or five peas, all refusing to stick together. It doesn't hinder the swimmers, slipping through the ice layer to the water below.   

The ice pellets form when some of the water from an adjacent mountain stream overflows and feeds into Ice Lake. The stream is one of many that joins to reach both Sweetwater Lake and the waterfalls that feed our river. 

I don't know all the details, but it wouldn't surprise me if the unusual ice properties are caused by passing through a hollow that is an outlier to Coldmount Peak. This rocky structure attracts the worst of the weather from the north and dissipates it. I suspect Coldmount Peak is another reason Mellowdene rarely gets storms and truly bad weather; something beyond the physical barrier of the mountains. Coldmount Peak captures the lightning, attracts the hail, and channels it elsewhere. 

I didn't know that Ice Lake held other secrets. Paul Polaris took us up to meet the Waddle penguins and they were happy to explain. It seemed our Polaris friends had arranged this surprise tour.

"It's like a garden down there," said Ozzy Waddle. "We don't dive too low, unlike our DeBurg neighbours. They go really low, tend the water plants and harvest their bounty."

"You mean you get food from the lake bed?" said Cecile.

"Oh yes. Together with the produce from the Snowfluffs at Polarstar farm I'd say Upper Mellowdene was about eighty per cent self sufficient with regard to food."

"That's amazing", said Cecile, "but don't you suffer frost damage?"

"Heated beds, sheltered growing units. The Snowfluffs are excellent winter horticulturalists."

"But the Beauforts will need some lactolia plants for ice-cream," Beverley commented. "The Buttercups have the best crop in the county. We went on a school visit."

"Violet Beaufort has some lactolia rootstock they use as a catalyst but surprisingly that amounts to little. We Waddles provide the alternative. Beaufort's ice cream primarily uses chillweed."  

 

"Chillweed?"

"It looks similar to some seaweeds but is the palest blue. It keeps naturally cold and it takes on the flavour of other ingredients in a recipe. In some cases it enhances the flavour. That's the reason why the Beauforts don't eliminate lactolia completely. With only a small amount of lactolia added to the chillweed, the Beauforts have optimised the flavour."

"Is that why the ice cream from their van tastes different to that bought in shops?"

"You noticed that?" laughed Ozzie. "You must be an ice cream aficionado. The Beauforts create a top quality product. We taught them all they know about processing chillweed. They don't have our range but they are experts in what they do."   

Beverley's interest visibly increased. "You make more flavours of ice cream than the Beauforts?"

"We certainly do. Not just ice cream, though. We do snow cones without lactolia. Some others will taste creamy but use other plants to give it a unique flavour."

Brendan piped in. "I think Beverley wants to know what particular flavours you make."

"Does she, my lad?" said Ozzie. "Well, young lady, we've done the usual vanilla, chocolate, honey and fruit flavours. The Snowfluffs' farm and the cold gardens increase our options. Some recipes you may like - such as carrot ice cream, I suspect. You may not find our range of fish ice creams as palatable."

Brendan laughed. "Sounds horrid. Can I try it?"

Ozzie gave Cecile a questioning look. Not me, I noted. Our new penguin friend had assessed my wife correctly as the boss in our family. Cecile answered with a short nod and Ozzie gestured to his smiling wife nearby.

"Sapphire, my dearest? Would you take these two lovely young bunnies for a tasting of our latest batch?"

We watched our two oldest children follow Sapphire Waddle to a nearby cabin. Regarding the landcape around us, I was glad Russell remained at the Polaris home to play with Beth.  

Cecile turned back to Ozzie.

"You mentioned cold gardens. What are they?"

"They are what they sound like. Like some others in the rest of Mellowdene, there is an attraction to grow plants or home-grown food in small allotments. It requires different skills in these temperatures, but it's a popular hobby up here. We've even got some Lower Mellowdene gardeners maintaining plants here. That chemist lady, for example. I think she grows some medicinal plants."

"Tara?"

"Yes, I think that's her name."

"Cultivating blue feathermint, maybe," I commented, remembering our friend's story of a trek to the ice fields on a neighbouring island. Yes, she would be practical in such matters.

"I don't know about that," said Ozzie, "but it might explain why she's chosen to locate her cold garden at the end of Upper Mellowdene  nearest to Coldmount Peak. If her plants need even lower temperatures, that's the place to be. Good job she has a friend with a skidoo to help her when needed." 

o 0 O 0 o

Our time in Upper Mellowdene had been quite educational. A community within our community, working together up there in the cold.

We had learned of one our friend Tara's projects. We had been surprised at their level of self-sufficiency. An actual farm. We had discovered the origins of the Mellowdene Cab Company. Realised there were now links to the Mellowdene Post Office. Peter Polaris had pointed out a passage beyond the family home that led to his place of work - the Coolsalt Processing Plant. I had seen DeBurg Penguins enter the waters of Ice Lake, the pebbles parting easily so that they could dive to the horticultural treasures below. We had seen the changing landscape affected by Coldmount Peak.

And we had seen Brendan's face after eating a fish flavoured ice cream.

o 0 O 0 o