A familiar scene

By the session leader:

We arrived at the watercress beds today fully waterproofed, under grey skies.  But then.  Within 3 minutes of starting work, the sun blasted through the clouds, jackets and jumpers were shed, and there were calls for sunglasses.

This dashing pair of wellies sparkled in the sun with its inset cats’ eyes.

Today’s task was an old favourite: making a 2-metre-wide channel through the water cress:

Cut stuff was floated/dragged downstream …

and forked up on to the bank ...

where a wheelbarrower waited in eager anticipation:

After tea, our task was to attack and seriously reduce a clump of reeds, slashing at its feet and hauling its roots out. 

“This was what turned a great session into a really great session.”

Our last 15 minutes involved nearly everyone, clearing up the roots and rhizomes, forking and barrowing the heavy soggy rooty mats up to the compost. 

When we had finally finished clearing up after ourselves, counted all the tools back, and turned for home, this was the now tranquil scene – with smoothly flowing stream – we were leaving behind:

In the sunny uplands

By the session leader:

We left our homes shrouded in mist, so what was the day going to be like on the top of the Chilterns scarp?  Would the sun be out when we got there?

Answer was YES:

Looking out over the valley, we could see the ominous bank of mist that we had left behind:

Getting to the work-site itself, however, was not going to be easy.  Our target was the ‘goat enclosure’, where we were to tackle banks of brambles.  (The goats, who were previous residents of the enclosure, gave up on the job some years ago, leaving it to madcap humans, such as Green-Gymmers, to carry on.)  The slope may have been fine for goats, but it was too steep, wet, and slippery for us to get down by the most direct route.  The brambles which had been cut back in previous years – and have since embarked on a determined regrowth project – also made for an interesting trip hazard.  So, slowly and carefully, we had to take the long way round:

It was only when we had arrived that we appreciated the scale of the task ahead.  In front of us lay a formidable bank of brambles still to be cut – some of them defended by hawthorn and wild-rose.  We spread out, some to the right …

one in the middle …

and others on the left:

Those were the Green-Gymmers who could still be seen.  Others rather disappeared from view, as they followed the instruction to cut “channels” through the bramble-banks, to open up the way for those who will follow on after with brush-cutters:

After tea-break, a short sharp shock of a bonfire rapidly disposed of the brash …

while other volunteers battled on against the bramble fortresses:

By the end of the morning, the view into the distance looked much clearer:

Behind, the sun through the trees and smoke created a quite magical effect:

To round off – because I can’t think of any way of introducing the subject, but it’s a cute photo – here is a picture of my friend Mickey, whose agility rivals that of squirrels in running across a clothes line and stealing food from the bird feeder:

Target Orange

By the session leader:

This pond has been quietly refilling:

Why was it ever empty in the first place?  Because it had been deliberately drained, and left empty for several weeks, to remove all traces of carp, its fry, and its eggs.

The carp had been a problem because they so dominate a pond that other species cannot live there.  So: no great crested newts; no invertebrates; no weed, as carp feed at the bottom, and stir it up …  In fact, very little pond life at all, besides carp.

The carp themselves went to a good home.  250lbs of them were transported to Lancashire, so that they can grow on in peace without muscling out other wildlife.

While the pond was just a sea of mud, it would have been too much of a temptation to passing dogs.  (Site-warden’s dog Jack included.)  So it needed one of those orange-netting fences all round it.  Now, all was safe again, so: enter Green Gym.   We lifted the fence – detangling it from the brambles – rolled it up, and lugged both it and the metal stakes up to the landrover.

Our other task was coppicing hazel: all those marked with an orange splash.   We don’t need to be shown any more how to create a neat stool, with the cut trunks sloping outwards, and finished off the way this site-warden requires, with one or two young upright stems left to give the plant a head start in regenerating from next spring.  And orange is of course the colour-code for the target, not a code-word for the agent used.  Our tools were just hard steel:

Assessing the situation before the first cut

If carp are the bullies of the pond, deer can be the big-boys in woodland.  We all know they are very sweet, bouncy creatures, especially when sighted in an unexpected context.  Their browsing habits, however, can be seriously damaging to young tree-growth.  Some stools had piles of brash left on top to protect them from being grazed …

but this one had a rather neat netting-surround:

 

From the photograph below, you might think Jack had been trained as a team-member:

It does look as though the dog is helping to carry the binders.  But no: he just wanted to play.  It was us humans who had to carry the harvested hazel-rods up the hill.

[Green-Gymmer still going strong towards session-end – respect!  While my colleagues were hazel-coppicing in the South-Oxon countryside, I was engaged on a very similar task in North Devon.  Except that there the brash had to be piled 2-feet high, to ward off Red Deer, who like nothing better of an evening than to wander down off Exmoor to enjoy a social with nibbles: fresh hazel-shoots seem to be their favourite delicacy.  Oh, and the slope was a little steeper, which meant that from time to time this happened:

I’d have been able to pick myself up quicker, if I hadn’t been laughing so much: no harm done

If any fellow-Green-Gymmers were caught out by the slope at Wittenham, they were smart enough not be caught on camera.

Normal service for publishing the blog should be resumed next week.  Thanks to our readers for their patience. – Ed.]