In the village where the boys go to school, there is a perfect park. Set well away from the road, with a football pitch and hills to roll down, it is the best place to while away the hours after school. After a while though, the noise and the bustle of children will disaappear, as will the children and all you can hear is excited cries in the distance. They have all disappeared into the orchard. I don’t know who owns the orchard, the grass is deep but it does feel cared for; thoughtfully wild, with trees, bushes and loads of space. The children love it. It cries out for games of hide and seek and tag. there are trees with branches touching the ground, ideal for den making and there are spaces for group games and small pockets of solitude.