Dodging raindrops

When clearing watercress channels, the only wet should be: the stream in which volunteers are wading; the moisture content of the vegetation being removed; and the sweat patches on our T-shirts (waterlogged plant-life ain’t ’alf ’eavy).

The weather could have been more unmannerly.  At dawn, the situation could most politely be described as “steady downpour” with a 90% chance of “heavy rain” mid-morning.   Precipitation, however, put itself on hold for session-start and end, and managed to keep itself tolerably in check in between.  (Was that the odd rumble of thunder we heard in the distance?)  And ducks are famously fond of the rain anyway:

The camera was not so enamoured of the atmospheric conditions when the moisture level rose:

Once more, the tasks for the humans on site – besides taking photographs – were to keep the water-channels open.  By cutting or pulling out excess plant growth.  Again.  Piling risings on to bank or bund, for water to drain off and invertebrates to make their getaway.  Again.  Wheelbarrowing cuttings to compost heap.  Again.  [I repeat myself when under stress.  I repeat myself when under stress.  I repeat myself when under stress.  I repeat myself when under stress.  I repeat –   Ed.]

The taskforce split into two, to work respectively up- and downstream from the road bridge.  Upstream, an enthusiastic group of volunteers from another organization had already shifted piles of cress on to all along the bank.  Welcome to our newest volunteer! who was getting stuck in straight away under the eye of one of the old and bold.

Downstream, Green-Gymmers were more spread out, and a tad more demonstrative about taking pride in their work.  One paused for a photo-call:

“I did!”

Upstream, cress was piled straight onto the bank.  Downstream, a team effort was required to barrow it across the beds, and transfer it to our waiting expat …

 

who in due course carted it away to the compost heap:

Further downstream yet, another volunteer was able to use the muck rack to drag floating cutting on to the bank – an admirable demonstration of technique and ingenuity:

The exertion plus humid weather worked up quite a thirst and appetite for cake – and conversation:

“I like it!”

Back in the water

Green Gym working in water again: the chalk stream at Ewelme.  Clearing water channels.  Again.  Weeding where watercress should be growing.  Again.  

For all that we have done this so many times before, inevitably the session began with discussion of what, exactly, is a weed at this site.  A complication is that one unwanted species is a type of watercress, but apparently, “It’s the wrong sort of watercress.”

As usual, it was then a question of volunteers deciding whether to remove unwanted plants with aid of fork or by hand, and how best to get risings in wheelbarrow. 

At that point, the session departed from the usual pattern for this job.  The Green-Gym team began work with ten water-based volunteers and one longshoreman.  This week, however, a different system was tried out for wheelbarrowing stuff to compost-heap, and returning empty barrows to where they were needed, in the stream.

Whether the new system made for greater efficiency is one for management to decide.  

It made the position of dedicated longshoreman redundant.  Which doubtless the longshoremen’s union is not happy about ;)  All the same, it is probable that, come tea-break, Green-Gymmers’ appetites were of habitually tigerish proportions.  It was thirsty work, for all that feet were in water, and more of the wet stuff was – occasionally – falling out of the sky.

There was nothing we could do about the several big areas of very short cress.  Watercress appears to have stopped growing where large quantities of mud have accumulated.  Which may be due to low levels of water in the stream.  [You would almost think someone was trying to drink all the water in the stream – Ed.]  Another time we, or other volunteers, might be invited to have another go at digging out the silt?  But not today.

Which way to go?

Two groups, two towns.  Because one town ain’t big enough?

Yes, this morning, for the first time in our history, Wallingford Green Gym ran two sessions simultaneously.  We’ve grown that big.  Or, more to the point, there was a limit on the amount of work needed at the site where we had first been scheduled to go; also a limit on the amount of space in which to work safely and happily.  So, rather last minute, it was arranged for: one group to keep our first commitment, at St Leonard’s churchyard in the town of Wallingford; and for another, larger contingent to work not in the next town, but in Ewelme village.

This naturally gave rise to all sorts of possibilities for Green-Gymmers to head quite the wrong way, emails sent not to arrive, &c.

Wallingford bridge, marked up for an event a few days ago

Some of us had visions of volunteers wandering about in a fog of confusion.  Not least because there is history of people trying to find St Leonard’s, fetching up at the wrong church, then wondering why there is nobody else about.  The building with the iconic spire in the background here is St Peter’s, which happens to lie on the same street:

Wallingford Bridge, early morning last Sunday

In fact we needn’t have worried.  [The future’s never ours to see, is it? – Ed.]  Today dawned bright and clear from the start, both literally and metaphorically.

That one is St Leonard’s – photograph taken first thing this morning from the opposite side of the River Thames

At Ewelme, most of the work was in Ewelme Brook: in most places, just ankle-deep in water.  (“If you’ve got wellies, all welly and good.”)  Our target, Great, aka ‘Hairy’, Willowherb:

Its flowers may be a pretty pink, but it crowds out species such as Ewelme’s iconic watercress.  It is called Great on account of its size, not because site managers think it is ecologically great.

Most of our number, then, set to pulling the plants by hand, to extract as much of the root system as possible.  This being hard work, and it being such a lovely day, inevitably it was not continuous labouring on the part of volunteers:

It was decided pretty quickly that more than one wheelbarrow would be needed for efficient moving of ex-willowherb to compost heap.  There were, after all, 14 of us plus site warden on location.  One Green-Gymmer was accordingly despatched to fetch another barrow from the centre. 

After they had been gone some time, a call arrived on the session leader’s mobile.  It was the volunteer asking if someone competent could be sent to help with the job?  The first person sent had been completely unable to fathom the business of padlocks and keycodes!

The advantage for the first volunteer having to wait was the unexpected bonus of having some time out in the most beautiful, peaceful location.  (Peaceful because all the other Green-Gymmers were far away, downstream.)  It was a joy just to stand and watch a young family:

Look out for the ducklings on the concrete bund in the video

The advantage of having finished up sending two bods to the centre, was that two wheelbarrows were brought back.  Both extra barrows ended up being used in the stream.

Wheelbarrowing vegetation to the compost heap was obviously a job for a stevedore working on dry land.  Other shore jobs were:

Compost-heap management

Relocating tadpoles from a pond which is rapidly drying up

For many Green-Gymmers, working in Ewelme Stream on a warm sunny day brings back fond memories of childhood summers spent splashing about and having fun in the water.  Tadpoling takes this to another level!  It is a pastime one absolutely associates with being about age 6.

At tea-break, the urge could no longer be resisted, for session leader at Ewelme to telephone oppo at St Leonard’s and ask if they needed reinforcements.  Much of the conversation which followed, seemed to be on the subject of supplies of cake. 

Eventually the question was asked:

Ewelme to St Leonard’s: How many of you are there?

St L: Six.

Ewelme: Six Green-Gymmers?

St L: No, I’m counting legs.

Those three pairs of legs (and arms) must have worked hard, because apparently that group – with assistance from other people, who live near the churchyard – filled six builders’ bags with the surplus vegetation they cut.  The idea is that a generous portion of the churchyard is set aside as nature area, but there is a limit to how much luxuriant nature is welcome on site:

Here too it was warm work:

Which group had the better morning?  I would not like to hazard a guess!