Those people whose homes are surrounded by residential development used to be able to console themselves with the thought that things couldn't get any worse.

While residents with glorious views of green fields and woodland might at some time in the future face the prospect of a builder moving in and replacing them with bricks and breezeblock, at least there was no chance of that happening to those who already had no open view.

Don't you believe it. As long as there's a bit of garden to go at, there's chance that it might be built upon.

A growing number of owners of homes with modest plots of land at the side are selling them off to builders. The foundations are dug, the cement mixer arrives, and within a few weeks there's a whole detached house where a lawn used to be. And probably not a mere two-storey house either. Three storeys seems to be the norm nowadays.

They tower over their neighbours, the windows on the top floor staring down into the bedrooms of the poor devils who have the misfortune to live behind or at the side of these monstrosities.

The people in the house who have parted with their garden to accommodate this new construction don't mind that they're barely an arm's width away from it and now only have a small plot at the front and back.

Soon the "FOR SALE" sign will be going up outside their home, they'll find someone prepared to pay more or less the asking price, and armed with the money they made from selling their spare land to the builder they'll be off to less congested pastures new.

There are so many houses springing up so close to other houses these days, overshadowing them, taking away their light and their privacy, that you wonder what planning criteria govern them. All you need to do to get permission to build a house or even a row of tall houses, it seems, is to be able to make available a plot of land big enough to accommodate the ground floor.

Consequently already built-up areas are becoming strangled. Existing residents are having their quality of life damaged and the value of their house, to them, reduced. But never mind so long as it lets the Council claim that it's increasing the amount of building on brownfield sites (which is what gardens are and what the Government wants) rather than on greenery.

"You can't buy a view," a planner once told me, dismissively. Maybe not. But a lot of people pay the price they do for their house because they think it's worth it: for the view perhaps, for the privacy, for the fact that there's a decent gap of a garden between it and the house next door and nice trees on the boundary.

When other houses are plonked close to it, the trees are felled and the view vanishes, it becomes not worth the money that the homeowner paid for it. Some of its value has been taken away.

If we're to accept that there's such a huge pressure on property that this building orgy must continue, at least it should be agreed that it's long past time for the law to be changed.

Those who profit from the disappointment and distress they cause to existing residents through the theft of their view, privacy and peace of mind should be obliged to pay them compensation.

Well it seems only fair, doesn't it?

Butterflies really spread their wings

What with the plague of daddy longlegs (or jinny spinners or whatever you choose to call them) and the reported sightings of spiders the size of hamsters, it seems that this prolonged summer has been a perfect one for insects.

I noted some weeks ago how many butterflies we'd enjoyed watching on the buddleia in our garden.

Well now that plant has finished flowering those butterflies which remain have turned their attention to the deep pink sedum that's just come into its best. The other day a large, bright Red Admiral spent three hours moving from head to head gorging itself.

There are butterflies about now that I don't remember seeing in childhood gardens in Yorkshire as I stalked around with my Observer's Book of British Butterflies (1952 edition). Where were the Peacocks and the Meadow Browns, the Orange Tips and raggy-winged Commas? There only seemed to be Cabbage Whites, Small Tortoiseshells and Red Admirals.

This last couple of weeks we've had an abundance of Speckled Woods, which I've never really been aware of before. These dark-brown butterflies with creamy yellow markings seem to be everywhere. Yet my extremely battered Observer's book tells me that they're more plentiful in the South than the North.

Mind you, it was published more than 50 years ago. A website now tells me that they're more plentiful in the North than the South! I could probably do with seeking out a newer edition that takes account of global warming!

Tree-mendous idea

It's a nice idea of the Friends of St Ives to invite individuals to sponsor a tree at £20 a time in a new area of woodland on the estate.

If the Friends' Wood does half as well as the new copses planted some years ago by the Friends of Northcliffe up on the playing fields at Shipley it will be a fine addition to the greenery.

I walked past these clusters last week. It doesn't seem long since they were saplings. Now they're sturdy, mature trees, splendid areas of mixed broadleafed woodland enhancing the landscape and nurturing wildlife.

If you feel able to take a long view these days, planting a tree (or sponsoring the planting of one) is an excellent investment in the future.