Walk slowly
I am walking around, through and in a patch of land by the edge of a river which I take care of. It is not a garden although food plants are grown in containers and some of the plants that grow wild are edible. Think nettle soup and bubble and squeak with nettles (I never know which is the squeak in the traditional potato and cabbage dish), water mint tea and dandelion salad. Using feets as a measurement where one feets is the length of my clumpy, waterproof shoes. The patch is 62 feets and, variably, by 41 feets. It is an ecotone, sometimes land, sometimes water. When it is wet, it is very, very wet and needs more than waterproof shoes to cross it.
Today, I am walking slowly, paying attention to everything around me and focusing minutely on the many seedlings that have sprung up due to the increase in light as the three willow trees were pollarded at the end of last year. It has rained and the earth smells good, petrichor I think it is called. I am wearing shoes because of the nettles but in the small areas of grass, it is possible to be barefoot. Under the trees, the earth is dry and cracked even after the rain due to their roots. Insects climb in and out of the cracks – ants and little beetles mostly. I move a twig with my toe and a centipede tries to find somewhere new to hide. Moving so slowly and quietly in this tiny area brings home the amount of life in such a small space and makes me think of the ecological damage being done when, here, it is abundant in living things. Cultivating the wild seems to be a good phrase to describe what I am doing here.
I walk here every day but with a purpose, but today, I am wandering, not following the edge just looking, hearing, sensing, smelling and occasionally tasting especially the water mint.
The floods which happen several times a year bring with them ‘delights’ such as Himalayan Balsam and the orange variety which I remove due to their explosive seeding habits. Later, there will be an immense growth of pennywort in the water which chokes the oxygen in the water. Yesterday, there was a small oil spill which has driven away the shags which were catching fish. Hopefully, I will see them back soon.
I begin counting and naming species – creeping buttercup, creeping nettles, dock, water dock, dandelion, celandine, ground ivy, ground elder, elder, sycamore, willow, giant willowherb, figwort, evening primrose, garlic mustard (another one for eating), white dead nettle, reed mace or bulrush that is slowly shedding its seeds, reeds, moss, bracket fungus, wood avens alongside ants, gnats, earthworms, centipedes and, at this moment, one blue tit. A great spotted woodpecker was here this morning with chaffinches, moorhens and mallards. I can hear other birds in a nearby wood as well as traffic nearby.
I am becoming wary of stepping on the hundreds of seedlings that I can’t yet identify. Do I need to? Is it not enough for me to know they are here?