Follow by Email

Thursday, 24 May 2012

New ridiculous stuff on Tuesday and sunshine on Wednesday

Tuesday was Short Stop, organised by LASSN The details of my first guest left me almost speechless, I will not identify the referring agency for what will become obvious reasons. He has been refused asylum here and after much thought has taken up the Border Agency's offer of being sent back to his home country. Now you would think that this should and could happen quite quickly, after all I can book a plane ticket to almost any where at the click of my mouse. But no, it can take months and meanwhile this person is left in limbo, although I believe in the Biblical limbo one did not need food, drink or a roof over one's head. So he is dependent on charity; of course on some occasions people in this ridiculous situation turn to stealing for food, so then they go to prison, which is a very expensive way of dealing with people who just want to be put on a plane. I am sure someone will explain to me why there is this delay, but to most people it will seem insane. Anyway I find him a room for the night, and the two other referrals as well, with lovely residents of Leeds who take in a stranger.

Then Wednesday, on the Cleveland Way south of Scarborough. The luck of the Coasties holds again, when we start work at 10am there is still a thick sea fret, fifteen minutes later the fret has cleared, the sun is shining and we are taking off our fleeces and jumpers. The strong people are repairing steps, I am sent off to do a light prune. Now in the National Park offices a Coasties Cut means something, a big, big cutting back, sometimes in extreme circumstances over a metre of blackthorn, right down to the ground! But that is in the autumn and winter; no I must be aware of nesting birds. So I have a lovely time, wandering south along the footpath trimming here and there where the shrubs are intruding just too much onto the path, I can be more vicious and I am with the bramble. It is mostly hawthorn, it is in blossom and the strange, sour smell fills the air. After a while I reach the cliff edge, here it is gorse, also in flower, that I trim back. Down on the beach the tide is out and a few people are down there, taking advantage of the sudden warm weather.

Then I see a hovering bird of prey, at cliff level, the plumage is reddy brown, it is a kestrel, seen for me from an usual angle, usually they are high overhead. This one swoops onto the beach and then flies off.

The few walkers who pass tell me what  lovely job I have, I explain that I am a volunteer, which is why I can dawdle if I choose! I'm not sure that they all really understand, never mind it is too lovely a day to go into more explanations.
dawdling down to the sea

Two very different days this week, but all part of the rich pattern of my small society.