And so to the coppice this morning to coppice some more coppice. We were last here on April 21st, exactly three months ago, and in that time it had become a bit more overgrown but still had a unique aura. About a mile away from the road and surrounded by fields it’s very quiet and the tall trees create a dome letting through a mere dapple of sunlight.
The coppice coppiced today is to be used to make a fence around the other caravan in the farmyard and I was looking for thicker branches no thinner than my skinny arms but definitely not as thick as Fred’s. It really is a case of trying to see the wood for the trees. At first glance there seemed to be very little suitable coppice in the mass of dark green but eventually the right trees popped into vision. It’s a bit like very slow hunting.
M had left me in the coppice to coppice away while she went off to an appointment and not having a clock on me I just carried on. And on. I’d remembered to take my camera with me this time and, after a break, took a few photos. Checking back through I remembered the camera time stamps them and by golly it was 2.30pm! No wonder I was getting hungry. Turned out the car had broken down hence the delay, but it was actually quite nice to be lost in time and space in coppice world.
It occurred to me that I’ve really got myself tied into clock watching while here because of the “six hours a day five days a week” WWOOFing deal. While it’s handy to make sure I’m pulling my weight while also not being exploited it’s still annoyingly similar to the 9-5 employee routine I was so keen to escape. Other than the 8.30am breakfast it’s not been strictly adhered to by M – it’s been me who’s been mainly aware of it, adding up the hours I’ve done and knocking off when they reach six. Often this is because I’m knackered or pissed off with a tedious job, but I wonder if there’s more to it than that.
Anyway, a successful coppice trip with 12 bundles of 3-4 big pieces ready for Fred to deliver later in the week.