A Green-Gym Mystery

“Two of our forks are looking a bit weak at the knees and may not survive the day.”

So predicted the ‘tool-fairy’ ahead of today’s session, before adding hastily, doubtless recalling a catalogue of previous incidents: “But this is not an invitation to a fork-breaking competition!”  (Slightly unfair: all our fork-breaking has been strictly non-competitive.)

“I empathise with the two forks,” replied one volunteer.

“Who’s bringing the four candles?” asked another.

It had been fine and dry too, till October wandered by.  Nevertheless, a goodly number of Green-Gymmers, all ready with our waterproofs, had volunteered to work on a new site.  ‘New’ in the sense that the venue was new to us; also that this particular parcel of ground is being re-worked from low-grade pasture into a conservation-friendly habitat.  When the project has been completed, the field will be the Cholsey Churchyard Wildflower Meadow until such time that it is needed for burial of the dead of the parish of St Mary’s Cholsey.

Meantime, there is the small matter of preparing the land for re-sowing.  What wildflower seed really likes is bare earth:

For one person working alone this would be two winters’ worth of digging.  For a Green-Gym team, a morning’s work:

Before

After

Waterproofs were not, in the end, needed, as a window of beautiful weather opened up after the wind and rain of the day before, and ahead of further bands of rain and wind forecast for later on.  The rain had softened the soil nicely.  The breeze was just enough to keep us cool as we laboured.  And the sunshine helped the spot to look its best:

Admittedly there was little of wildlife interest, barring an addition to our catalogue of interesting slugs.  I am not sure I had ever seen a spotted or tiger-stripe slug before:

Many hands did indeed make for light work, and the usual lively conversation made the time pass remarkably quickly.  Discussion covered “beer, politics, more beer, religion, more beer, volunteer options, and anything seen on the news which took our fancy.”

The parish churchyard itself is best known for the grave of Agatha Christie, who is reputed to be the world’s best-selling novelist.  The memorial stone which caught my attention, however, was this one, on account of the span of dates instead of the more usual 1914-18 (or, less often, 1914-19, where servicemen concerned had been involved in the war against Turkey): 

Given the location of today’s session, there just had to be an element of mystery about our day.  Nothing to pique the curiosity of M Poirot, or engage the interest of Miss Marple, but a mystery all the same: the mystery of the missing fork.  13 Green-Gymmers went to work with one fork each.  At the end of the session, 13 Green-Gymmers returned to our RV point, each bearing a fork.  Collect up all the forks, and count them: 12.  Go back and check that no-one had absent-mindedly returned to base not carrying a fork: nothing found.  What are we to deduce: that a garden fork has somehow dissolved into thin air?