People from all over the world have appreciated the patio, formerly a porch in a historically significant former house, now a field. The house was first discovered by builders in 1960. According to locals, the builders discovered the house over a three month period, even though there had been no record of a building in that spot before, and no planning permission had been granted for the site.

It was hailed as a major archaeological find by the builders, and a campaign was launched to preserve the site, but the Council demolished it in 1961 to create a field, leaving just a historical door where its historical house used to stand behind it, and it looked as if the door thought the house was still behind it, standing there on its own, so they knocked that too, leaving just the floor of the former porch, currently a patio given the lack of a door. The movement of doors and houses, like a subtle game of chess, so subtle you don't even know you're playing chess, which of course you aren't. But if you look very, very closely, you'll find that you are.

Having recently been downgraded to the status of 'no longer nestling', the former porch is nevertheless perched amid the glorious panorama of Mizzenwood's ancient landscape. Locals have blamed the new designation on building work that has involved extending the surface area and raising the patio on stilts.

Perched precipitously on the edge of the no-longer nestling, currently perched, formerly porched now-longer patio'd, you'll find the caretaker, Alan, sitting on a deckchair, sipping tea from a cup, knee raised up on another chair, cup resting on arm of own chair, foot resting on thing of thing chair; busy at work, up to his neck in deckchairing and care taking.

Resting on the shoulders of the precipitously perched caretaker, parked on the no-longer nestling, now perched, currently wrestling with the voices Alan, you'll find a dog constantly on guard. Too small to be a guard dog, but with stilts and owner to raise his eyes higher than surgically unenhanced legs could ever raise a pair of eyes, he guards his cosmetically enhanced patio from dawn till dusk. Sitting on the shoulders, his holder and sitter beneath a-ssh and ssh while up above are birds a-twitter, and down a-low are nobodies not allowed anywhere near because they're nobodies. But that's just the opinion of one crazy dog. Don't take the dog's word for it.

Climb aboard above. Escape the hustle and bustle, hassle, beatle, shootle, bell and whistle of modern life; rise above it all to the more serene and sedate life on the patio. Look at Alan on his deckchair, sitting above, sedate to date for over four years, a much more effective sedative than the tablets. Sitting silently, hair beneath hat, docked in deck chair, decked in T-Shirt that says 'Dazed and Confused'. "Hello up there," is what people say. "Sorry. Goodbye."

Stand up high and breathe the air and be there to B the air all day long - a day's worth of things to do just standing still and breathing, and heart still pumping along to its simple song, your mind above with the view beneath, the grass in the fields and the trees below your you, floating on air or things as near to air as construction regulations will allow. See for as song as the eye can sing - that's what your eye would say to you if your eye could say.

Glorious, the only word to describe the view from above on the patio. Trees, fields, ditches, the spire of a church, the sound of a bell in the middle of nullwhere, and all the little animals, even littler because you're so far above them, even Little Hitler, the dog who lies under the oak tree to your right. He's almost a pet now. Or the lovely Petal, a cat who runs past Little Hitler, making the unenhanced nobodies below run as well.

Walk around the patio, sit on the edge and look at the view for miles around; trees, hills, fields, hills, heels, hells, head, hills, grass. The long grass providing a soft landing, a happy ending to your view for miles around and round and round and round and up. Unsteady feet and hazy head, daisies wave, still unsteady in head. Yes, you just fell.

A simple breeze on green and blue days around Mizzenwood where you can walk, run, sit or just be. Most people are happy with just being, which does take in a lot of sitting, which may be used to take in a lot of sightseeing if an appropriate location for the sitting is chosen. The previously porched, currently perched, formerly nestling patio is the ideal location, its perchment placed to create a glorious panoramic view.

Every day a holiday, the summer season is always underway in Mizzenwood. Under umbreller day, someone will say this doesn't look like summer at all, but you'll always find something to summer your helloday. A vast ocean of blue above that meets the horizon in a pale B blue where the dark grey green starts, and miles and miles of fields and roads travel road river and rail all the miles to meet you at your feet. Or maybe not the rail since the rail cough so the rail look at the man with the hat if the rail workers will ever recover.