Not a ruin in any dramatic sense, not a monument in any conventional one, it is the kind of thing that only becomes legible when you know what you are looking at, and even then only just.

Windfield was once a demesne, the managed private landscape surrounding a landed estate. Such estates frequently used small ornamental copses, clumps of trees planted in deliberate arrangements, to give visual rhythm to an otherwise open landscape. The effect was aesthetic and often symbolic, a way of marking ownership through the ordering of nature itself. This particular copse, roughly circular and about fifteen metres across, appeared on Ordnance Survey mapping at the 1:2500 scale, surveyed between 1912 and 1916, as a small enclosed stand of trees. It was one of fourteen broadly similar features recorded across the same area of the demesne, suggesting that whoever designed this landscape did so with considerable intention, distributing these planted points across the gently rolling ground in a pattern that would once have read clearly from a house or a carriage drive. The trees are long gone now, cleared at some point after the survey was made, and the enclosure that contained them has left only that faint mound in the grass.