Age brings out the batty side

Last week there was going to be a 'Bat Watch' in our local woods guided by our Local 'Batman'.

This sounded interesting so after a really hot day my neighbour and I proceeded to the appointed meeting place to await developments at 21.30 just as it was getting dark.

People of a certain age go fully equipped for expeditions. I was no exception and dressed in the shirt and trousers I had spent the day in and a pair of comfortable open sandals together with my trusty fast frame camera we waited fully expecting to go into the main woods which had clear paths and very little undergrowth. What could go wrong?

As the appointed time approached so the problems began to emerge. During the day the temperatures had reached 28 degrees and it was particularly pleasant to feel the cool breeze coming off the harbour and the sun coursing its way towards the horizon.

Only 5 minutes to go to the appointed hour. Boy, it was getting cold, I wish I had worn an anorak. Still only a few moments and we would be on the move into the shelter of the woods.

The appointed hour arrived and we were on the move after pleasantries had been exchanged. Wonderful.   WRONG... we are going to the other woods.

Now this woods is the nearest we come to an Everglade in this country. Full of undergrowth, full of collapsed trees and founded on marshy ground which frequently floods after heavy rain.

Oh well nothing for it but I wish I had brought a torch like the rest had instead of a camera.
We enter the hinterland and things begin to squelch under foot. Still OK but getting darker by the minute.
After two encounters with unseen trees, brambles bamboos and course shoulder high grassy reeds we continued forward.

Now, I had done the gentlemanly thing and allowed the ladies to go first but gradually I was being left behind only accompanied by one gentleman who actually was being delayed by my slow progress.

Suddenly things got better. Someone had laid small logs on the pathway to provide a stable foothold.

You must bear in mind, in my defense, that it is now pitch black and that is why I did not see whatever being or thing which leapt out and attacked my ankle wrestling me to the ground in the process.

Fortunately, as I described before, the ground in wet and marshy. I forgot to say that it is black and smells of rotting vegetation. This shows up particularly well on a light brown and white shirt and cream trousers.

So picture the scene, I am now trying to swim to the bank in this goooy mess trying to hold the camera out of touch with the marsh and desperately trying to seem as if I was enjoying it instead of feeling very embarrassed about the whole thing in case the ladies came back to help rescue me.
With the help of my new friend, I eventually managed to locate in a sitting position and release my twisted leg from the beast below.

Back in the upright posture it was suggested that the best thing to do was for me to abandon the expedition as things could only get worse.I gratefully accepted this and I was guided to safety and civilization by my favorite guardian angel who then released me to squelch my way home.

What a good way to spend the rest of the weekend nursing a twisted knee and a damaged pride.

I MUST BE BATS

The way of the changing world reaches our little haven

                                              ‘UNDER THE DEADWOOD TREE’
                                                                  OR
                                            ‘THE PLIGHT OF THE HUMBLE TREE’
                             
                             With apologies to Thomas Hardy and Nikcolai Rimsky-Korsakov

It beggars belief that in this day and age when we are urged to plant trees and protect our environment
and wildlife that people can object to this.

Over the years, Maisemore has become a placid and peaceful place for it’s inhabitants and the
wildlife and a haven away from the trials and tribulations, angers and frustrations that many people in
this fair land have to endure.

It seems that twenty first century living is now catching up on our peaceful enclave.
Maybe some of us have blinkered eyes regarding the future and others would rather live with the
mechanical age all around them.

Perhaps I am missing the point when I think that trees, birds and other wildlife are considerably
superior to watching upgraded Burger Vans making very occasional movements during a day but
returning back to their roost by the evening to sit gently rust away. Perhaps there is an advantage in
having a taxi rank on the estate. Perhaps, there may be a reason for two person families to have three
vehicles even though they can only drive one at a time.

Perhaps living away from the true centre of trees and wildlife of our peaceful little haven brings about
the nurturing of a demigod minority wishing to impose their own peculiar form of control on our
neighbourhood without thinking too much about the long term effect of their 'meaningful' proposals.
Seems like they find a power that they did not have in their previous lives.

Fortunately the eyesores of modern living do not affect everyone, probably protected by the planting
of trees and scrubs at an earlier time in the growth of Maisemore.

It is a wonderful time now in the year of the Queen’s Jubilee for us all to celebrate this occasion by
Maisemore’s own contribution in the form of a tree.

But, NO! This will go against the wishes of the ‘People who know’ and bring hell and damnation to
us all. But then again, some will be pleased about this especially the Republicans and Non-Royalists
amongst us.
I rant, I rave but in the end I have to make a decision!
Do I turn a blind eye?
Do I join the ranks and spend my money on a static caravan on the Green?
Do I do some midnight planting?
I don’t know. Perhaps you can help?
But, bear in mind I am not moving .....yet.
The Soarer