Shedding my leaves 14th October 2018

I live on the side of a hill overlooking a lush green valley. Behind me, the remains of King Offa’s castle. In front of me the village green that boasts two splendid Horse Chestnut trees. This time of year the trees are magnets for the local children. I’m so glad that conkers still have a seasonal pull.

This Sunday morning I’m sitting in my office gazing out and loving that I live here. It was only meant to be ‘temporary’ but it will be 21 years next March. Time, I both think, feel and know, to move on. If things really go in seven year cycles then I need to have moved out by the next vernal equinox, and this winter I need to downsize my stuff.

It’s still early and the green is quiet. No closet conker hunters as yet! As I watch, gently, very gently the Chestnut trees shed leaves. Quietly, very quietly they fall. How easily these trees let go when nature calls. How simply the earth recycles her waste.

There has been so much on the news this week about the speed with which climate change is happening and the gross need for us humans to reduce our impact on the environment. I have felt this keenly and resolved to modify what I buy. I will reduce my dependency on packaging by making and baking more using locally grown produce. As my plan is to move ‘off-grid’ I need to reduce my electricity use to a complete minimum. To this end (and to ease the transition) I’ve started to preserve orchard fruit through drying using the residual heat from my wood-burner.

As I mooch around my lovely home I begin to pull out items that no longer serve me well. The disposal of each one requires deliberation and careful planning. When, I wonder did I unwittingly become a consumer? How did my life get so cluttered and complicated? Why, can’t I just shed my leaves and know they will be recycled and help nourish and nurture future generations? Now then, can I compost the feathers from my surplus pillows and re-use the calico?