Holy Headline!

By ‘C’:

High summer is when the chalk grassland of the Chilterns is robed in the most gorgeous floral finery:

When The Queen finally gets to deliver her speech to a new parliament, Her Majesty will not be dressed more superbly than the humble downs.  (IMHO.  Wonder if one could still get sent to the Tower for comments like that?)

The only drawback is that all that growth means it is sometimes not so easy to see where one is putting one’s feet, and so stay the right way up on the scarp.  There are plenty of rabbit-holes, ant-hills, etc to upset the unwary:

The site manager being a little delayed this morning, gave us the opportunity to wonder what the crop in the blue field was, which we could see from the RV point.  Linseed seemed the most likely answer. 

(What’s the difference between flax and linseed?  Nothing really!  They are the same species: Linum usitatissimum.  It’s just that the plant is/was more commonly known as ‘flax’; and its seed, ‘linseed’.  This can cause some confusion if someone goes to a health-food shop to buy omega-3-rich linseed or flaxseed, and is faced with a bewildering range of products with different names.)

Our main job today was to re-inforce a line of ‘exclosure’ fencing with some chestnut paling.  The little area from which predating deer, rabbits, etc are to be kept out does not, of itself, look terribly interesting:

Certainly not when compared with the view the other way:

The enclosed area, however, is an experimental site: one of only ten in the country, which are  subjects of a long-term study.  For the past 45 years, scientists have visited the spot annually to measure the growth of the scrub, and so determine what happens if there is no intervention at all on the land – no input from humans, no input from grazing animals.

The first, and physically most challenging, task was to haul materials up the slope:

There was no easy way to do that.  Nor was there any particularly easy way to unroll each delivery of paling.  (Let me never complain again about not being able to find the end of a spool of sellotape, or that a loo-roll refuses to unwind!)

Fortunately, the actual installation of the paling was something which was very suited to the Green-Gym way of teamwork and devising the best techniques as we go along:

“We’re pretty good at fencing, I think” 

(Yup: it’s comic-book criminals who are very poor fencers)

“This seems to call for a high degree of trust”

Biff!  Boff!  Crash!  Most of the job done in no time, it seemed. 

Then it was time for a well-earned break.  Refreshments were unusually highly-organized this morning:

A new line: a no-added-sugar alternative to cake

Drinks colour-coded: orange mugs – café au lait; blue mugs – tea;
and in between, designer mugs – black coffee

In the second half, there were a few finishing touches to be put to our section of the fence-line:

The upgraded exclosure is not yet complete, for the three rolls of chestnut paling were not quite sufficient to cover the whole length:

That gap, however, could be left to another day – and to someone else.

Meantime, we could spread across the grassland, and continue with the never-ending job of keeping down encroaching scrub.  Any species of tree could be removed, with the exception of juniper, which is a rarity.  Wild rose and hawthorn, for instance, are pretty; and it seemed a shame to take out them.  All the same, they are not wanted where they are in the wrong place.  The target scrub came in different sizes, but so did the ‘tree popper’ tools. 

Some targets were more tenacious than others:

This might be tricky, for instance.  But Green-Gymmers are good at fast thinking and team work, as well as zapping things.  In an instant, the session leader had realised this situation called for another pair of hands and, presumably, the bat grade of tree popper:

At session end, I hope all volunteers felt more than just a slight twinge of satisfaction.  Especially as our morning had not been spent at the expense of the misfortune of others – unless one counts the rabbits, deer, etc who will, when the exclosure is completed, have to seek somewhere else to dine.

Cracking wheeze!

By the Session Leader:

At 8 this morning rain was pelting down, and the wind blowing half a gale.

"There's beautiful South-Oxfordshire countryside out there somewhere"

Some anxious emailing took place, speculating whether we should call off the session.  The local weather forecast, however, was adamant that the downpour would start to ease off at 10 am (our start time) and would have ceased altogether by 12 noon.  

Two volunteers decided they would rather stay dry.  [Which is entirely understandable.  We, after all, know you wouldn’t find a Green-Gymmer crying, “Don’t let him get me involved in anything with any work in it!” – Ed.]  The rest of the group, in good WGG fashion, were happy to go ahead.  We therefore set off from our respective homes to converge at the pre-arranged meeting point on the Earth Trust Wittenham estate. 

Next problem: gusting winds had brought down power lines, and Clifton Hampden Bridge was closed – on the route of the volunteer bringing the tea-crate.  Moreover, said volunteer, being relatively new to this, did not know the area well enough to find the detour.

Now that could have led to a spot of bother, a ‘no teas’ situation.  But don’t worry: the site warden rapidly cooked up a Plan B, which took into account the proximity of the Earth Trust offices.  And in fact, plan B did not need to be called on.  Our newest regular volunteer is evidently a Green-Gym natural: he realised he did know the way to the home of another volunteer (who happens to be an old friend, who was not able to come to Green Gym today); and from there got help to deliver the vital tea-crate to the session after all.  10 out of 10 for enterprise and initiative!  Whatever happens, we do like to be able to say we’re right behind each other at Green Gym, and that “Everything’s under control.”  Which it usually is.

The rain was certainly under Someone’s control.  It stopped ahead of the forecasters’ schedule, at 10:00.  The wind was still playing up, though.  [Later we discovered that a not very well-promulgated yellow warning for Wind had been issued. – Ed.]  This led to site warden making a late change to the morning’s task.  We had been due to be working higher up the slope, in the Clumps area, trimming a ride; but that did not seem such a good idea given the climatic conditions.  [Good call!  It would not have been pleasant to find oneself beneath cracking trees. – Ed.] 

Instead, an impromptu working party with a wider group of workers was organized for near the Earth Trust offices.  Some staff who would normally be at work behind desks, but had found they had no internet connection first thing this morning, came to join us.

Our new work-site was the ‘garden’ zone, beside the children’s play area:

Another group had built an empty wooden structure that would become raised beds for demonstrating How to Grow Your Own Food.

As a base, comfrey was to be cut and laid as the first layer of the bed.  Comfrey, aka comphrey (Symphytum officinale), acts as a compost activator.  Which would help break down the next, more woody layer to go down:

Piles of compost were then to be dug out, wheel-barrowed to the beds, and spread out as the main layer:

Despite some initial misgivings (“Will there be enough soil to fill the beds?” followed by: “Will there be too much soil?”) the operation went remarkably smoothly.  There was only the occasional “Weight Overload!” episode with the wheelbarrows.  And one of the residents of the compost was deftly retrieved and relocated to a more suitable hall:

At last, the last of the barrow-loads was tipped in.  Cue photo-call of volunteers and Earth-Trust staff together:

Finally, the bed was smoothed and left ready for a final layer of top soil, once the base has settled:

It had turned out a most pleasant morning – and all the better for having been able to meet some of the people who are more often (from our PoV) behind the scenes at ET.