Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1889

The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1889
by Angharad

Copyright © 2012 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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After dumping various offspring at educational establishments I met up with Gordon Ross at the entrance to the woodland the bank had purchased. He was waiting for me and had taken a preliminary look around the edge of the wood.

“I’ll show you what to look for. Most of it’s detailed on this.” He handed me a leaflet–not that sort of leaflet, a piece of paper with pictures and writing on.

I shoved it in my bag and pulled on my gaiters and walking boots. I had a camera with me. and if we found any signs of it I intended to take pictures. Gordon was pessimistic, suggesting that as it was already in Surrey and West Sussex, it was almost certain to be here as well and being dispersed by wind, it meant there was no way of keeping it away if we didn’t already have it. It seemed more inevitable than anything else, simply a matter of time.

We walked through the fallen leaves and it wasn’t long before he spotted an ash tree and sure enough, the signs were of the disease. Lesions on the base of dead branches and on a nearby tree we saw fungal lesions all the way along a dead branch. Parasites infuriated me and I felt angry that this wretched fungus which had come to us courtesy of Denmark, had no brain function, yet had me, the supposed cleverest species on the planet, up an ash tree.

It struck me that the problems with these contagious diseases was, that if they killed all the host species, they’d die as well. Seems they hadn’t thought of that, at the same time they had, because it rarely happens that all the host species die, either because they avoided contact or had some immunity.

Now while trees aren’t that intellectually smart either, they aren’t entirely passive and do produce toxins or other substances to either ward off pests or release substances to warn other plants that an attack is happening. It apparently happens to some plants which are subject to massive infestation with caterpillars. They secrete messenger substances to warn other plants that they’ve been attacked.

Unless it’s middle earth, it’s unlikely the trees can uproot themselves and walk off, let alone go round Tolkein to Hobbits, which is probably just as well, because collecting firewood might be difficult.

After two hours of wandering round the muddy woodland, it looked like we had a real problem, and the disease was present in probably twenty percent of our ash trees. I felt gutted, woodlands and forests would never be quite the same again if we lost all our ash trees, and all because we don’t grow enough timber to meet our own needs as a nation.

Even finding acorns and hazel shells with definite dormouse marks of them didn’t cheer me up. Gordon was pleased to have the shells–I’ve got loads of them–so he could show his kids, and that they were confirmed by an expert, one Dr Cathy Watts, meant he was sure he could show them with certainty.

We walked back along the main ride back to the cars. I’d have to visit the place again with the bank’s surveyor and see exactly where he was suggesting we put the field centre, because if it was where I thought it was, I’m going to object. There is a group of oak trees which have trunks a dozen or twenty feet in circumference. They’re probably a couple of hundred years old, and I want a preservation order on them to prevent any felling.

Goodness knows what species of animal or plant we have here but some of the scarcer ones might include purple hairstreak butterflies and white hairstreaks, I was sure some of the trees were wych elms. Wych is an Old English word meaning pliant, so it’s elm trees with bendy boughs.

The ash dieback did worry me, but there was nothing I could do about it. I should have been elated, a whole wood for me to play around in whenever I want–but I felt down–not sure if I was up to directing the project or even directing the efforts to control the tree disease. How many more of these bloody diseases were we to become affected by, if it’s not ash dieback, or blue tongue in ungulates, or myxomatosis in bunnies it would be some as yet hitherto unknown disease affecting whatever we held dear. God, I hope it’s not some virus that kills dormice, then I would have to shoot the Pope and his god. Sometimes I think the Cathars and Gnostics were right, assuming there was some sort of deity, it’s as imperfect as his creation, and answers to the name of Demiurge. Thankfully, it doesn’t exist along with any other of the sky pixies.

I got back in the car and had time to grab a sandwich from a corner shop before I went to collect the girls. Somehow ash dieback had cost me most of the day. The girls had known where I was going and asked me how it had gone.

“There’s a significant number of infected trees, which we’ll need to fell and burn.”

“We’ll help to chop them down, Mummy,” she offered.

“We won’t be chopping anything, we’ll do it with chainsaws, which are noisy and dangerous.”

“Will you be chainsawing, Mummy?”

“I doubt it, darling. They require a certain amount of strength to use because they’re quite heavy and they can kick back and take off arms and legs, or even heads.”

Three young women made gagging noises in the back seat.

“Will Daddy help you?”

“No we’ll leave it to people who’ve been trained to fell trees.”

“Can’t we use the wood for the fire in the lounge?”

“We’re not supposed to move it around in case the spores of the fungus get even more distributed, especially to trees which weren’t already infected.”

“What is spoes, Mummy?”

“Spores, Meems, are like dust but they’re actually like seeds of the fungus. It’s how it spreads. Like dust blown about in the wind.”

“If I don’t eat any more beans, will that help, Mummy?” Trish pretended to ask this in all innocence, but I’ve seen her do it before. Which when I ask her what she means she goes on about beans creating wind.

“I hate to say it but we’re talking about the wind, not flatulence.”

“Wossat?” asked Livvie.

“A posh word meaning farts,” answered Trish, and I tried not to catch her eye in the mirror or we were likely to run off the road.

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