“Sunshine, coffee, cake …”

“… what more could one ask for?” remarked one volunteer.

Answer: windspeed a little lower in this exposed part of South Oxfordshire, the cynical might think.  Nevertheless, it was indeed a very good morning for getting together with friends in the great outdoors:

The work – our bit to help transform plain field into butterfly-friendly meadow – would have been easier if the soil had been a tad less heavy.  However, we would far rather the soil be “a bit sticky” (as Green-Gymmers described it, with just a dash of understatement) and the sun be shining on our backs than if the earth had been nice & friable from a period of dry weather, while the rain was pouring down the back of the neck.

Tasks did not consist entirely of digging, though there was plenty of that:

 

There was also the planting of a tree ... 

the transplanting of plugs of wild flowers ... 

the cutting back of a hedge-line ... 

and jobs where it was not entirely clear to the onlooker what Green-Gymmers were doing, but the side warden said they were doing it very well:

There were also some distractions, eg the neighbouring farm, and the frequent trains:

Plus, of course, cake at tea-break.  Including lemon-drizzle.  – Just bad luck on those of us for whom today was the first Green-Gym day of Lent 2015!

Extreme Gardening

Today was one of those occasions when volunteers had to be kept well away from the neighbours.

This was one of the neighbours’ houses:

Green-Gymmers had to be set a task well away from them not because our activities would have disturbed them, but because they would have been constantly distracting us.  This on the way to our work-site:

And these were next door’s children, having a wonderful time in the great outdoors, getting thoroughly messy from head to hoof:

Pigs in their natural habitat – woodland – are a rare sight nowadays.  These ones were very happy pigs.

Our task was to help bring back old woodland to coppicing rotation.  In the early 20th century the area probably had been managed for coppicing (hazels and some standards).  That the woodland is old, is shown by the presence of bluebells – yes, proper English bluebells:

Come March/April, this woodland floor will be a haze of blue:

In the meantime, there were old trees to be cut back.  Here is one which had been done earlier:

Note the brash piled round the base (to obviate depredation by deer), and some leading shoots left so that the tree can regenerate (even if some hungry deer do get through the defences).  During the extensive briefing we were told, “There are more deer in the UK now than ever in history.”

Cut wood was recycled, according to size/straightness, as:

• Stakes and binders for use in hedge-laying
• Logs for firewood
• Brash to put round the stumps
• Material for brash piles neatly constructed so as not to intrude on bluebell habitat

This involved much use of time-honoured tools and methods.  Here a happy Green-Gymmer deploying a billhook:

There was much instruction given on the angle at which to wield one’s billhook.  “A 33⁰ angle” definitely came into it somewhere …

There were also some interesting alternative uses of tools.  This, for example, is not a billhook carelessly left on a stump.  It is for cutting lengths of string:

And this is not a hurdle for a hedgehog gymkhana …

nor a hoop for an extreme version of croquet.  It is for holding a bundle of sticks off the woodland floor, while the length of string is tied round:

The soundscape included, to our delight, the extraordinary sound of happy pigs sleeping it off (who knew pigs could snore so loudly?) and a woodpecker drumming, on a tree, as it should.  Apparently the way to identify the species of woodpecker is to remember that a Great Spotted Woodpecker produces a short ‘drum-roll’, and the Lesser Spotted a long one; while the Green Woodpecker is the one which laughs at you. 

“Yes, there’s one at the golf course which does that,” volunteered one Green-Gymmer: “It laughs even before you’ve putted.”

– “You’re not supposed to putt with a woodpecker,” came the rejoinder: “You’re supposed to use a club.”

(Shades of Lewis Carroll there – Alice trying to use a flamingo as a croquet mallet?)

Green-Gym itself perhaps bears the same sort of relationship to normal horticulture.  

For it has been described as “a combination of extreme gardening and walking, plus just being out in the great outdoors” – in the right kit, of course.  Except that at Green Gym the range of ‘right kit’ varies from the old-&-battered-and-it-doesn’t-matter-if-it-gets-torn-and-muddy to the real town & country look:

All are equally welcome at Green Gym!

Same-o same-o

Those Green-Gymmers who had been speculating that task and RV point would be “same as last time” we were at Natural England were right.

The site manager’s plan was ‘more of the same’, but at a different location on the site:

Cutting scrub across on Linkey Down.  If the weather is right I will do some stump treatment.  Hopefully we will have a fire to burn up all of the arisings.

At the right time of year (which this is not), Linkey Down is apparently a prime site for spotting ring ouzels.

If that sounds unlikely, other wildlife to keep an eye out for, when engaged on tree work at a site as species-rich as Aston Rowant NNR, are:

• the Axehandle Hound – steals unattended pieces of equipment
• the Teakettler – eats clothing left on trees
• the Goofus bird – flies backwards (“It doesn’t give a darn where it’s going, it only wants to know where it’s been”)
• the Pinnacle Grouse – flies in circles because it has only one wing; colour of plumage changes with the seasons and the condition of the observer

Okay, I’m having you on: the last four belong to the fantastical world of Paul Bunyan.  They are about as real as these:

One important difference this week: C was away.  So now the mice could play … and this was what happened:

From the session leader for the day
Did “the top of Hill lane” mean at the top of the hill or the top of the lane?  We drove to and fro till we all met in the right place.  The stand-in leader was chastised and teased, and is thoroughly apologetic.

The warden, however, was as cheerful as ever and set us to task, which today was clearing scrub (very thorny hawthorn), so that our woolly friends have more grazing.

It was important to cut as low to the ground as possible, to minimise the number of sproutlets that spring up in the spring, and also to keep the stumps small, so our woolly friends don't get their feet caught.  Loppers were effective for getting into the centre of the bush, keeping eyes well away from branches snapping back.

Sometimes a saw was good to finish off the job neatly.

The warden came round with his paint brush and red stump killer, to make sure that the hawthorn dies back as much as possible.  The technique works, as can be seen by looking across the hillside, and seeing the work from previous years.

Why was the cake bag so big and heavy?  It's surprising how heavy hot water bottles are, but they are just the job when you're on a cold hillside and you want warm apple and ginger muffins cakes, with that straight from the oven feel.  What a treat.  Thank you to our favourite chef!

Two of us cleared a patch of ground on the far side of the wire fence.  It was here that we piled up brash.  Heaving the brash up hill and up over the barbed wire fence and handing it over to the brash-pile builders was good exercise, but very spikey – thank goodness for long sleeves.

Everyone enjoyed this task so much that we want to keep going next time, and perhaps have a bonfire when this first load of brash will have dried out.