Autumn 2014 - Out on a limb
I had cleared a lot of weed out from the shallower water, where it was easy to wade. With chest waders I wouldn't be able to get to the centre of the pond and keep dry, though keeping dry was the least of my concerns. I didn't trust this stuff and having a large matt close around my chest as the wind changed direction made me even more cautious, I didn't want to provide cover for the local newspaper who would no doubt be overjoyed to run a "Drowned by an Alien" headline.
The plan was to cut a strip all the way around the edge of the pond so the weed was no longer anchored back to the shoreline. Once it was free I would find a way to drag the entire mass over to shallower water.
So I set to cut my way right around the perimeter. By this time I had done so much weed cutting that my wrist joints were aching, I could do no more than an hour at a time. At first the weed would bind on the sides of the blade as I tried to cut. Once the cut opened a little, I would wedge my knees in either side of the cut, just enough to ease off the sideways pressure of weed against the blade and gradually work my way around. Once the cut was a yard in length, I would make another parallel cut about a foot further out, then slice it off into a yard long strip. Each strip was raised for the water to drain, then tossed over onto the bank.
It was slow going, but eventually I had a foot wide strip all the way around the top side and around the far bank by the roadside.
Here an old oak tree had a branch growing out into the water, so I started to cut around this too.
[This picture taken June 2015]
Cut a strip, lift, drain, then throw to bank, cut a strip, lift, drain etc. Repetitive work, but it was a lovely evening for the time of year and I was very satisfied with the progress, although here there was still a fair bit of mud, I had to wriggle myself free of it before taking each step away from the bankside and towards the end of the branch. With the last strip cut, I dragged it back to the shore and tossed it up on the bank. It was very pleasant weather, warm, calm and very quiet. Not anymore though, that last strip of weed and possibly one or two before it had landed on a hole in the bank. I heard the buzz first and looked up to see dozens of angry wasps streaming out.
They were looking for someone to blame for the mess that had landed on their home and if I didn't move quick, they would soon figure out that was me. The only way to shore was to wade back through the strip I had just cut, right past their nest, so instead I headed back out a far as possible back along the branch. By the time I made it to the end of the branch I was in deep water, only just below the level of my chest waders. It took quite a while for the wasps to calm down and all the time I had to push up on the branch to stop me sinking further down into the mud.
Eventually I waded back around the pond and when I got back on the bank I could see the funny side of things. As wasps tend to make a new home in a different place each year, I decided to leave them well alone and come back to finish the job the following year.
