Dealing with growth

 

Let’s set aside for a blissful moment the Whitehall farce that is proceeding with all the foreboding of an approaching hurricane. Despite the “turmoil” around the thorny question of economic growth, it is very evident that on our beloved (and for now, at least, legally protected) Common, the biological type of growth has been carrying on in the way it tends to do – even considering the summer’s drought.

Areas A and B, the species-rich grassy sections on the Warren Road side of Fox’s Beck, are cut on alternate years. As any faithful readers with retentive memories will know, it was the turn of Area B to be cut this year; the job to be completed in the rather short period between the end of the bird nesting season and the end of September. The critically important cutting part of the task was indeed done on time, and the working party a fortnight ago did an amazing job in clearing away a vast amount of the resulting “arisings”. However, some had to be left for later, including a small amount on Area A, where invasive reeds and Michaelmas Daisies need controlling annually.

So it was on another gorgeous autumn morning that 22 volunteers convened at the civilised time of 10.00 am. Not only is that the biggest turnout of the current cutting season, it is also the best of the whole year so far. The sky was a fabulous blue, there was only the lightest of breezes, and in the sunshine the temperature was pleasantly warm; warm enough indeed to prompt the early discarding of coats and jumpers.

Spare a thought however for the winch crew, sequestered in the deep shade cast by the Alders growing alongside Fox’s Beck. When they emerged into the sunshine at the half-time break, they were quite surprised at the difference in temperature.

What was somewhat different about this particular day’s task was the distance between the material to be shifted, and the place it had to be dumped. This was taken from the dump site.

Indeed, the long black bit of string which I am told (quite forcibly) is a rope, was only just long enough. The contingency was an extra length of string rope which it was to be my job to connect to the end of the main rope and onwards to the drag sheet itself. I was quite looking forward to that, which tells you something. Anyway, my little ambition was thwarted, but no matter, bigger plans than that have come to nothing recently.

The distance involved meant, mathematics being what they are, that each pull took considerably longer than our usual, shorter pulls. We have clever people in charge, and the order was issued to pile the sheets high. We would have sold them cheap, but times are hard, and nobody wanted to buy. We were aided in this audacious plan by having nice dry material to shift. Thank goodness for the winch; hauling those sheets by hand all that way, as we used to do, would have meant at least one more session required. Here’s one of the last sheets of the day on its way to the heap.

Of course, it’s not all about the winchers; nor even the tireless guides of the sheets being pulled, among which I am proud to be numbered. No, the stuff has to be pitched onto the sheets, and that’s down by the wielders of forks, known as forkers.

The giddier members of this group are known as silly forkers.

Once the forkers have forked and the guides have guided, the stuff has to be tipped out, creating ever-growing heaps. Thankfully, this too is done using the power of the winch, as it used to be the hardest part of the process pre-winch. Although they rot down over a few months, the heaps can be quite high; clambering over them requires a head for heights, and it’s easy to lose sight of your fellow sufferers workers.

It will come as no surprise to regular readers of this blather that an hour into the session we broke for a break. Unusually, your correspondent found himself some distance from the oasis, which explains this distant view of the assembled multitude. It being such a nice morning, there were several groups of walkers making their way along the boardwalk, and it’s a testament to their British reserve that none assumed that this was merely a kindly refreshment stop laid on for thirsty walkers.

With 22 volunteers, we had the luxury of being able to divide our forces. Some went off to do some scrub control…

… others tidied up the edges of the boardwalk…

... and some struck out into the depths to remove some of the Himalayan Balsam plants that had survived the earlier cull. That’s them, carrying the white sacks bulging with the offending plants.

Team Leader Kevin broke out the Tree Popper; an incredibly useful tool for uprooting Alder saplings to prevent them from colonising the area.

At the end of the session, Area B looked like this…

… and the bit of Area A that was dealt with looked like this.

All that was left was to trudge off-site, taking the tools back to the store, whilst whistling a merry tune (unlike the rest of this post, that bit’s made up).

Here is Team Leader Margaret’s message of thanks:

Hello all.

Weren't we blessed with a beautiful autumn morning? Thank you to the 22 volunteers who helped to finish area B. In fact we managed to do some scrub bashing, Himalayan pulling and edge tidying. You can all be very proud of what you have achieved. The task for the next working party has yet to be finalised, so look out for Julie's e-mail.

We send out love and best wishes to Les and Margaret.

Margaret for the team leaders

 On a wildlife note, we spotted flying overhead with hungry looks in their eyes a Heron, a Buzzard and a Kestrel. A friendly Robin kept us company at the dumping point too.