A foraging first

The change in climate means the seasons are less predictable. 

This Autumn is a 'mast year' where beech trees produced a super-crop. Other trees have joined them and nuts, seeds acorns and haws crunch beneath our hiking boots when we are out and about.

There are differing explanations for this abundance. Optimistics say the spring weather was ideal for setting fruit and nuts.

Pessimists say rising temperatures are stressing the trees and they feel themselves to be in danger, so attempt to perpetuate their genes by reproducing. 

Whichever it is, Nigel and I have benefited, at least in the short term. 

We noticed that squirrels, instead of burying merely the usual acorns and conkers in our garden were this year bringing us walnuts.

Then our friend Carys showed us a bowl of beautiful walnuts she had foraged near Oxford. 

We were eager to find some.

Finally, when out on a walk with Pascoe, we came upon a walnut tree and added handfuls of the delicious nuts to our pockets, already bulging with sweet chestnuts.

So for the first time we have a bowl of local walnuts. 

I only wish our pockets had been bigger.

And I hope the trees get a chance to rest and recover over winter.

My hero

Following COVID, Nigel and I are just getting our mojo back.  

Something that helped to stir our blood were these facts about private jet flights:

• Up to 50 times more emissions per passenger mile than an ordinary commercial flight.
• Average number of passengers per private jet flight last year was 2.5 with 40% of flights taking off empty. People are even using private jets to ferry their pampered pets about.
• There's an illusion these flights are for VIPs on very important state business. But the busiest day at private jet terminals is Valentine's Day. Hmm.

So when we got the call to march through Farnborough and demonstrate outside the private jet terminal there, we said yes.

Our role on the march was to step out in the road and hold up a banner to stop traffic just while the marchers passed swiftly through.

This meant we were ahead of the rest of the march.

The guy beside me said, 'Have you seen who we are holding up the traffic for?'

I looked behind me at the head of the march.  'Who is it?  I can't see anybody I recognise.'

'Look again, on the right.'

And when I peered closely an unassuming young woman in a plain grey coat turned out to be Greta Thunberg.

I learned later that she was in the UK for her trial, following her arrest in October.  She sat down in the road in front of the Intercontinental Hotel in London where oil bosses and bankers were meeting to discuss how to make the most possible money out of fossil fuels while frying our planet to death. 

(Nigel was sitting there too, but the police didn't get around to arresting him.)

It was definitely worth making the effort to get out and march.  Seeing our young hero made it even more special.