Everything must go!

By ‘C’:

“It’s all got to go,” declared the site warden, with a grand sweep of the arm: “except for the juniper.”

Where we were standing was Bald Hill.  Or at least that is its name.  It’ll be a while before it is bald again.

We had convened at the bottom of the Chilterns scarp.  Twelve of us, not counting this Missing Person.  All we could do for this creature was to sit the animal upright (to be more conspicuous to any search party) – we sympathise with whichever Small Person has lost a friend:

Just a short walk along the lane up the hill, and we turned off into what should be classic chalk-grassland, so more this kind of habitat:

The ‘it’, which had to go, was excess scrub.  Dogwood mostly.  Also some bramble, the odd hawthorn, etc.  Whichever way we looked, there was no shortage of targets.  This patch of dogwood, for example – readily identifiable as “the plant with red stems and broad leaves”:

Or in the other direction, smaller clumps, spread out across the slope:

As for me, I took pity on a juniper, which was struggling to outcompete bramble and wild rose.  Junipers, as we know from previous visits, are just such slow-growing trees!  Without a helping hand, specimens like these are liable to be smothered:

It seems a never-ending task.  In previous years, we have ‘shaved’ other sides of Bald Hill, admittedly with some success.  But watching some of the other volunteers spread out on the hillside above, I hoped our endeavours did not make us a chain of fools.  [There!  I’ve got in my first Aretha Franklin (RiP) reference.  I wonder how many more I’ll be able to manage. – Ed.]

As the sun came out [clean contrary to the forecast – Ed.] it soon warmed up.  Our colleague who proceeded right the way to the top of the slope, where it was breezier, had the right idea, I think:

The task itself was surprisingly warm work: very much a question of keeping the faith.  And, if you were working away with loppers, finding yourself most grateful for fellow-volunteers (R-E-S-P-E-C-T) who were confident about being able to keep their feet while transporting brash down the slope for disposal.  (Need a friend?)

Much-needed refreshment at tea-break happened to fit the task of Doing Things for Benefit of Seasonal Flowers.  – Though several Green-Gymmers commented that the decorations on the cake seemed rather more spring-like than summery:

Despite encroaching scrub, there were plenty of butterflies to delight the eye.  Orange ones, mostly, in various sizes, alongside familiar blue numbers.   

Small Heath (Coenonympha pamphilus) and Chalk Hill Blue (Polyommatus coridon)?

By session end, there were certainly some sections, where we could observe the difference we had made:

Before

After: space ready for other species to grow

Before

After we have downed tools, but not quite finished packing up

There was another familiar experience too: count up number of tools; one missing!

Fortunately, this was soon resolved.  [Whether by finding the missing pair of shears, or doing a recount and discovering they were there all the time, I did not enquire. – Ed.]

When site warden had not returned, we began to make our own way back to where the transport was parked up, out of the way of members of the public: “We’ll be able to make out we’ve done even more than we have ;)”

In fact, our column met site warden’s landie along the way.  So heavy bags of tools, tea crate, etc did not have to be carried right back to the starting point.  Which was a relief, even if the walk back was downhill.

An enjoyable morning?  Yes!  And not just because we can feel we have done our little bit for a countryside which seems under so much pressure at the moment.  There’ll be good times bye and bye?

And we hope the colourful knitted creature, whose name we do not know, is safely re-united with owner & keeper.