After a lull for Easter and then wet weather, which delayed progress, the roof is finally finished.
The ridge tiles are in place and the gables have their overlapping edges - so that the rain does not run down the walls.
I thought we might find it obtrusive. Suddenly there's this roof sticking up beyond the brambles where the nightingale sings.
In fact it is mellow, the new tiles blending with the old. From the veranda of our house, looking down the garden, the roof seems like it has always been there.
A bird, unpeturbed by the builders plastering the bedroom walls, is trying to make a nest in the rafters.
The ridge tiles are in place and the gables have their overlapping edges - so that the rain does not run down the walls.
I thought we might find it obtrusive. Suddenly there's this roof sticking up beyond the brambles where the nightingale sings.
In fact it is mellow, the new tiles blending with the old. From the veranda of our house, looking down the garden, the roof seems like it has always been there.
A bird, unpeturbed by the builders plastering the bedroom walls, is trying to make a nest in the rafters.
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