Fire and Cold Water

By the Session Leader:

The bonfire was burning bright as we arrived, and so was the sun.  

February, they say, is “the border between winter and spring”.  It was definitely winter at first light today.  Spring from around 9 o’clock – very convenient for those wending their way to Green Gym.  Winter again in the afternoon.

We had a great choice of tasks today, on a return visit to Millbrook Mead.  Some of us set about disposing of brash, which had been cut in previous sessions, by chopping it up into bite-size portions and feeding it to the fire:

If fire did not appeal, there was water to work with/in instead.  There were two ponds to clear of well-established reeds.  The first thing to do there was to find each pond.  This was one:

“Did someone say something about there being a pond here?”

Then there was the matter of clearing each one, while loftily ignoring remarks from passing colleagues about “more water-raking”:

Reach and pull – with special ‘water-raking’ rake …

then toss ‘product’ on to bankside pile

That’s one pond done

And now the other pond is revealed too

The village brook accumulates rubbish and litter, but after several bags full collected by Green-Gymmers, it is now pristine.  [Who knew that humble litter-picking could be such an interesting sport to watch for those pond-clearers now leaning on our forks? - Ed.]

Litter-picking GG style

– note snowdrops in the foreground

The brook also gets overgrown.  So those with wellies (sadly, mine sprung a leak) tackled the brambles, ivy, and other assorted overgrowth to reveal the brook flowing full tilt towards the river Thames:

Spot the Gymmer

Other side streams and gullies needed clearing too, without disturbing the frog and his/her frogspawn, and the nascent Loddon Lilies. 

“Mind my Lilies!” cried the warden when some of us were bordering on the too-enthusiastic.

The snowdrops have already been mentioned – they were gorgeous:

There was also some fascinating fungus to be seen …

before it was time to count back tools, count up volunteers, and head home before the weather turned, and some decidedly cold rain started to fall.

No ill wind

By ‘C’:

A scarf for work on the scarp would have been good today.  It was a bit draughty on the crest of the Chilterns.

– Those specks in the background: not a flaw in the photograph (or on your screen), but Red Kites using the up-draught to gain height for zero input of effort.

Our own effort this morning was being put into – surprise, surprise – more coppicing.  

Of spiky stuff mostly (hawthorn and blackthorn), intruding from the fence line on to what is meant to be open chalk grassland.  Come summer, the area we cleared should be a riot of colour with wildflowers, butterflies, etc.  And did you know (we only learned this today, from one of the information-boards on site) that the Chiltern Hills were created by an aftershock from the event which formed the Himalayas?

Meantime, the first action required of Green-Gymmers was to mind the sheep, while the site warden turned the landrover into the neighbouring field to deliver essential equipment (tools and tea-crate):

That is what warms a session-leader’s heart: to see volunteers automatically stepping forward to help out, without having to be asked.  Would I expect anything less of experienced WGG folk?  No!

For a moment or two afterwards, it looked as if the sheep were following the Green-Gym men …

but no, they were headed towards the Natural England landie, probably in the expectation that its appearance meant extra treats for them:

Some of the flock hung around for quite a while:

With cows, one might well conjecture that such behaviour arose out of curiosity: that they were interested in what we were doing.  With sheep – very sweet, but “dumber than a handsaw”, as they say in Wisconsin – one could reasonably assume they were simply checking there really were no goodies they were missing out on.  Notice a few of them still lingering in the background here, as a Green-Gymmer sets to, moving the first batch of timber he has cut:

Good ol’ Mr W seemed mischievous at times this morning.  When it came to laying out for tea-break, the waiting staff (alias ‘C’) found the breeze was blowing away granules of instant coffee between heaping on to spoon and loading into a mug!  Similarly, one of the volunteers found he had to adjust aim, to allow for wind direction and speed, when using the sweetener-dispenser. 

OTOH, the wind did an excellent job dispersing the soundwaves from the site-warden’s chainsaw.  This meant we could work alongside, with our muscle- and character-building hand-implements, without being disturbed by the racket of a power-tool: 

(Note no helmet today: just safety goggles.)  That there was a power-tool in operation, also meant that one volunteer who knew he would be arriving later for the session, did not need to phone the group’s mobile to get directions: he found us just by following the sound of the chainsaw.

Coppicing rarely feels like hard work at the time, but some very conveniently placed trees – which are meant to be alongside the fence-line – made for a welcome rest at half-time:

By then, the weather had also greatly improved.  From the improvised ‘tea-rooms’ there was quite a clear view:

And indeed there was not a spot of rain all session.  The first drops began to fall a few minutes after we were back in our respective cars headed for home.

Warm Hearts on a Cold Day

By the Session Leader:

If Green-Gymmers have a slightly romantic outlook on the countryside, it is because we always look on the positive side. 

The supposedly south-east wind Tuesday morning may have felt rather more easterly than southerly, but at least there were no snowflakes wandering along its well-sharpened edge.  And really the weather was not as bad as last time we had gathered beside the Thames to bestow loving care and attention on a grove of hazel.  At least there were some views to be seen on the way to the work-area:

We’d never noticed before Christmas trees planted like ceremonial sentries (why?) either side of Brunel’s bridge: 

A distraction from the question brought up every time we go under this bridge: how did Brunel build the arch brickwork that slopes one way on the river side, is straight at the top, and slopes the other way on the land side – while the newer half of the bridge, not Brunel’s, is straight all over …

We could see how the gantries for the overhead cabling were mounted on the bridge.  Someone asked if they had got consent, as the bridge is a listed building.

But we were here to do our own job.  It really wasn’t very lovely at the start of the session, but all the more reason to get stuck into some warming work!  “Coppice a third of the trees; that is, take out every third tree” were our instructions.  That, however, meant making decisions.  Which is definitely not what most Green Gymmers expect to have to do.  How do you decide on which is the third tree when you are surrounded by them?

We were relieved to be told, “If in doubt, cut it out.”

But who is this alien figure appearing out of the woods?

It turns out to be one of the more sensible Green Gymmers with protection of the eyes against the hawthorns that had in places encroached in force on meadow and hazel-grove.

“Chopping things down / in my little red helmet”

(to the tune of In and Out the Dusty Bluebells)

[Safety-glasses and goggles are available for any Green-Gymmer who cares to use them.  They are part of our standard equipment.  As are plain helmets.  A helmet with visor, however, is more than we provide from our own stock.  There are, of course, occasions when a session leader has to decree that such PPE (Personal Protective Equipment) shall be worn, rather than leaving it to individuals' discretion; eg helmets when felling taller trees; eye-protection when tensioning wire. – Ed.]

After the tea break it turned much nicer.  [Still not a vastly romantic Valentine's Day setting, though – Ed.]  

In spite of the sun on our faces, we still did not manage to achieve all we had set out to.  Lots more to do here; and lots more warm, dry weather needed!