Scrubbing the ramparts

By ‘C’:

There was no doubting Green-Gymmers’ enthusiasm signing up for this session: “I like scrub clearing!” volunteered one.

The ramparts, from which scrub was to be removed, were the defensive earthworks of an Iron Age fort known locally as Sinodun Camp.  So there we were – a full round dozen of us – doing as probably our ancestors had been obliged to do at regular intervals when the base was operational: scrub-bashing all along the watchtower. 

Armoured gloves our forebears may have had, but they probably did not have Kevlar material.  – And neither did we until this morning and the chance to try out a batch of new, allegedly thorn-proof (“stab-proof”) gloves which had been bought by Earth Trust:

Gloved and tooled up, some volunteers went for the softer stuff in the ditch – nettles mostly – which could be slashed very satisfactorily with a good long swing of the arm:

Others headed straight up the slope – the hard way, cutting down all before them with shears and loppers:

A few made their way round, via a path, to begin the task from the top of the ramparts (“better views”).  Here, it seemed to not so much a question of which tool to use, but whether to use a tool at all:

The scrub was so varied that several volunteers reported that one moment they would be tackling nettles, which could be slashed.  The next they would be up against a mature thistle, which called for shears.  After that, they might be faced with an infant thorn-bush, which called for loppers or pruning saw.  Of whatever variety, there was an awful lot of it – scrub, that is – to be cleared.  Some workers almost disappeared from view:

The slope itself posed its own challenges.  It made for an interesting test of balance:

Soon the call could be heard, “You can see where we’ve been!”  Those who had chosen to proceed directly up the slope, were the ones best able to judge their own progress – watched over by a Red Kite:

Site warden, on quality control: “That is perfect!”

Even those three, however, travelling up the slope, seemed to find it hard to credit as they neared the top:

And having finally reached the upper rampart walkway, they proceeded back down via the path, and started all over again.

Tea-break was most welcome today!  Re-fortified by tea/coffee + cake (rather than hot pretzles), more volunteers began to tackle the task of collecting the cut vegetation for eventual disposal via a bonfire:

The volunteer in the background: not collapsed in a heap, nor even metaphorically lying down on the job – just crawling towards the target from the best angle.  As far as I know, no volunteer was to be seen upside down over the course of the morning, although I am told that one Green-Gymmer rolled gently down the slope at one point – no harm done.

We still believe that doing good things for our health should be fun.  Indeed you could say that Green Gym is the exact opposite of the medical model of approaching health (“Hey that's my aspirin!”).  So, as usual, there was some lively chatter as we worked.  Some revolved around the subject of the weekend’s Bunkfest, at which some members had been on stewarding or donation-collecting duty.  The headline act on Saturday evening was said to have been quite good – some Québécois outfit I had never heard of before.

Green-Gymmers being who we are, as we worked and chatted, we were also very solicitous  towards the non-plant species encountered:

Given our location, and mental images (probably entirely fanciful) of Iron-Age ancestors holding out against Roman legionaries, it was entirely understandable that there was also some joking about whether the Roman Army had come up with the idea of Kevlar.  After all, as is well known, the Romans did invent rather a lot of things. 

Meanwhile, care was also taken in regard to those plant species not condemned to be removed.  Early autumn it may have been, but some wildflowers are still going strong:

To complete the delight of the morning – for those who were not staying on – the weather was decidedly varied, but pleasant.  The wind was strong.  One wonders how creatures which look so frail, such as butterflies & moths, can fly perfectly well in such conditions.  Being a southwesterly, however, ie blowing towards, not from the north, the flow of air was mild in temperature.

At session end, we could look back and realise the scale of the task.  Ours was only the first of 8 (eight) work-parties scheduled to work on rampart-clearance this season.   

It was also time to review the performance of the gloves.  Many of us had been seriously impressed, but one Green-Gymmer was ruefully contemplating his sore hand, and reporting that one thorn had got through:

For those who were able to stay on a little bit longer, there was an extra treat: helping with the moving of a small flock of sheep.  They really aren’t the brightest of creatures: a few threads short of a sweater, as they say in America.  So, when sheep are being moved along the public road, even a short distance, it is good to close all gates which can be, and to post people along the route to block off obvious places where they could deviate from the straight & narrow.

Two of us extras were stationed, for instance, at a junction.  The positioning was finely judged, in relation to the war-memorial:

If we kept behind the line of that, then we were not so close as to deter the sheep from walking straight past (as they were meant to), but we were close enough to prevent them from wandering down towards the next village.  Oh and we were to stop any traffic. 

Not a lot of traffic-halting was required on this stretch of highway ...

and the sheep did indeed obediently trot straight past our location:

It may have been a different story further up the lane, but at the end of the operation we saw the last one safely in to their new pasture:

New experiences

Five ways to be immediately happier have been helpfully identified for us by one of those government advisors on ‘happiness’.

Speaking at the 2015 Hay Festival, Prof Paul Dolan from the LSE supplied this handy checklist of Things To Do:

• Listen to a favourite piece of music
• Spend 5 more minutes with someone you like
• Go outdoors
• Help someone else
• Have a new experience

For many of us taking part in Green Gym this morning, the exercise ticked 4 out of those 5 boxes – or all five, if you count the sounds of nature as favourite music.

For some of our volunteers, this was a new part of a favourite site.  For others, there were new tasks.  For some, the whole thing was a new experience: not quite as ‘different’ as A Royal Night Out, but definitely out of the normal range of experience in our urbanised times.  

First task was to attend to the needs of livestock on site:

If these sheep are looking sad, it is because they are in the waiting room, so to speak, for the vet.  Their feet are hurting, plus they have been separated from the rest of the flock (by people they do not know, namely Green-Gymmers), and are in a strange place.

Having moved poorly sheep, Green-Gymmers could then attend to the main task, for which we had been engaged this morning: to erect more chestnut pailing, as deer & rabbit exclosures around a coppice.  This was part of a much larger project, to make for more diverse woodland.

The first phase of the project had involved cutting down old trees.  This may seem counter-intuitive, and in the short term gives results which do not look pretty.  This was where we were to work today:

Another group had done the coppicing over the winter; and, more recently, another group had drilled pilot holes for the fence posts, which had been put in very loosely. 

If the situation looked unpromising, we had only to glance at the compartment next to it, to assure ourselves that the technique really does work, and is worthwhile:

Here’s one we did earlier (a couple of winters back)

Preliminaries this morning were to knock in the fence-posts properly with a drivel; and roll out the pailing, and wire the sections together:

Only occasionally did Green-Gymmers apply themselves with such enthusiasm that it led to a mistake (sorry: learning-experience).  Here the pailing had been neatly laid out – the wrong side of a small tree:

On other occasions, it was in the nature of this morning’s task, that individual Green-Gymmers could find themselves doing quite a lot of waiting and watching.  This could be waiting for colleagues to finish what they were doing at the other end of the line:

Or it could be watching while fellow-volunteers were given a tutorial.  Here, ‘How to Use a Monkey-Strainer’ (something we do only every couple of years or so, and then forget):

Once mastered, the strainer kept wire under tension, while one volunteer held the far end with fencing-pliers, and another hammered in staples to secure the wire in place against the post:

Note safety precautions: gloves in use, except for the hand wielding the hammer

Tensioned wire in place, it was time to raise the pailing, and attach it:

This was where the Green-Gym experience included interacting with the Great British weather.  As we were preparing for the session, it had seemed unseasonably windy, prompting one volunteer to remark, not entirely seriously:

I think we’ve cut summer, and gone straight to autumn.  It must be another of those government cuts!

As the pailing was raised to the vertical, it could not be simply leaned against the fence-posts.  Volunteers had to hold it upright, or it would be blown over by the next gust of wind.

Finally, chicken-wire was added to the fence, to secure the area against rabbits:

Where we could, we used plastic ties to hold it in place against the pailing:

There was not quite enough time to complete the chicken-wiring, but you could certainly see where we had been today:

Before: session-leader contemplates the job ahead

By tea-break (session-leader has decided, “This is great fun!”)

By session end: (session-leader still saying, “This is Green Gym at its best”)

Meanwhile, the vet had arrived.  Some volunteers got the chance to assist, as he treated his patients for footrot (an infectious disease, common enough in sheep, though rare at this site) by the usual means of foot-trimming and injection of antibiotics.  This morning, that meant cleaning out and spraying infected hooves, and giving the first of two shots of antibiotics:

Although the wind continued to be a bit naughty, the rain thankfully held off – until we were back in our cars, on our way home after what was, I hope, a thoroughly enjoyable experience for all volunteers.  The treated sheep, apparently, can be expected to be feeling better by next week.