Guerilla gardening

Last year I engaged in a spot of guerrilla gardening, but I fear that I may have been over-enthusiastic.

For some bizarre reason, I find myself responsible for organising the volunteers who maintain our churchyard. I suspect that I was standing closest to the vicar as she contemplated who would take over from her when she left the parish. She asked and I could not think of a good reason to decline, so de facto, I became the person who makes sure that our local God’s Acre is cared for. We have a contractor who cuts the grass and maintains the meadow areas, but the rest is down to volunteers.  4 or 5 times a year I organise a working party to prune, weed, pick up sticks, care for untended graves and generally make the place look nice. The local primary school usually come up at least once a year and the children spend an afternoon tidying and becoming familiar with a space that belongs to them as part of the community. In years to come, it will be their responsibility to care for this important environment and they might as well start as soon as possible.  Whenever I post that a working party is due, lots of people “like” the idea, but few actually turn up. Those that do are not generally members of the congregation. They are friends and acquaintances who recognise that the churchyard is an important community space and are willing to devote a couple of hours a few times a year to help out. Tea and cake is always provided, and perhaps that is a draw.

This week was the first working party of the season. A fallen tree was made safe, a gravel path was hand weeded and compost was removed from the bins.

As I wandered around checking things, I was pleased to see that previous efforts to enhance the area are beginning to bear fruit. The hundreds of snowdrops and bluebells that we planted a few years back, in lieu of flowers for the funeral of the husband of a ringing friend, are well established and thriving. The rabbits are now more under control and rogue sycamores seem to have accepted that their attempts to take over will come to nought. The contractors have done a brilliant job in creating meadow areas, although after 4 years of input they have not re-bid for the contract this year. Energetic moles continue to be a nuisance.

However, I was somewhat alarmed to notice that my liberal sprinkling of wildflower seeds last year has been perhaps too successful. There are foxgloves and forget me nots all over the place. I do not remember what other seeds were generously broadcast amid the memorial stones, but no doubt, time will tell. Perhaps I was not sufficiently aware of the fertility of the ground that, other than the odd deep hole, has not seen much disturbance for centuries. If only my own garden was so obliging.

If the weather does not stunt the wild flowers and if any new grass contractors do as good a job as the last lot in managing the wild meadow areas, then the churchyard should be a riot of colour in a month or two. I just hope that the flowers do not decide to colonise the gravel paths, because that will be extra work.

Meanwhile, if anyone enjoys  Alexanders in tempura batter (I hear they are all the rage in posh London restaurants), then we can provide enough for an army. They probably date from the time that the Romans occupied the area and, together with the bricks in the church walls, are evidence of their settlement. But you have to volunteer with a trowel and secateurs first.