Hackfall Woods: 05-11-2019

Since the NCVs met last time an election has been called and the UK media has gone into political over-drive. It was with great relief, therefore, that the NCVs headed off to Hackfall Woods to escape the reach of all but the most persistent of satellite signals and just be at one with nature (even though it meant the usual hard work and general muddiness).

This week's blog is a little unusual as it is centred on the latest ode from our very own NCV Bard - Tony - who, as luck would have it, sent his latest 'pome' to the blog editor a few days before going to press. I hope you enjoy this poetic treasure, illustrated here and there by scenes from the day's task.....

Tony's email:

< Everything these days is gloom and doom - Brexit, the environment, upcoming elections, news from around the world. Why can’t we have something cheerful, positive and optimistic?

This is an attempt to make people feel better.

Tony

MARCH OF THE MASOCHISTS - To be sung to the tune of “Men of Harlech” 

Verse 1:

We’re the conservation army

Swivel-eyed and sadly barmy.

In a gale, or breeze that’s balmy

Out we go again.

Lots of tools....

... for lots of NCVs, who began the day with lots of 'unbirthday' cake from Paul.

Thanks Paul!

Verse 2:

Winter brings us frozen fingers,

Symptomatic flu that lingers,

Sodden clothes in need of wringers

From incessant rain.

Chorus:

Every bump and bruise day,

(Others call it Tuesday),

Tendons straining, backs complaining, and it’s bloody cold and often raining.

Off we go through ice and snow, pretending that our vital signs aren’t waning,

Thoughts of death are entertaining,

Running through the brain.

 

An improved channelling up near Mowbray Castle.

Sysiphus had to spend eternity pushing a boulder up a hill. 

Dave had it easy in comparison.

The forty foot falls were cleared.
Paul raced up the stream like a super hero.
Go Elastic Man, Go!

Dave does his teapot impersonation.

Obviously his way of saying 'Is it lunchtime now?'

Verse 3:

Summer brings us dehydration,

Insect bites and constipation;

And there’s never sanitation.

Squatting is a pain.

Steps were cleared to make them safer, 

encroaching holly and brambles were pruned back 

and culverts were cleared.

The interpretation board was cleared of algae...

... and seating areas were cleared of leaves.

(Of course the leaves continued falling as the workers walked away!)

Hackfall is always magical, but we were particularly lucky to 

glimpse two gnomes string on a log.

Verse 4:

Blackthorn bushes always find us.

Brambles, cleavers try to bind us,

Branches whip and try to blind us

Time and time again.

Chorus:

Swamps and bogs surround us,

Deep ravines confound us;

And disease from rampant fleas infects our every pore and every sphincter.

Wasps will sting us ointments bring us not a shred of help from balm or tincture.

Still, we’re almost glad to think we’re

Going out again! >

After all - anything's better than staying in 

and listening to the radio at the moment!!!!