A while ago 2 Marshians coordinated the weekends activities.
On the Saturday a litter pick on the Coley Branch line and the following day planting a willow woodland in the marsh near the boardwalk.
Out litter picking coordinator writes:
Marshians pick up every bit of rubbish that they find. They find creative ways of doing so. They use what they can.
A wire shopping basket was repurposed by a Marshian for collecting bricks for dams.
A shopping trolley from the little tent encampment was used to transport soaked through bits of tent gear.
A pallet pulled out of the ditch and dragged to be with others of its kind.
The dig against tea-cup sized black spikey cone things trowelled on, in determination to remove their plasticness from the soil.
2 scarlet elf cup fruiting bodies said hello while making connections in their mycorrhizal way in the soil under our feet.
Beside them some bones, left of a deer spirit that has moved elsewhere.
Snippers were mended.
Wellies tried on for size for future sharing use.
Cans, plastic, glass and metal sorted separately and taken by Marshians for recycling.
Discussions and agreements reached about the little tent encampment. Someone was using it sometimes. A railway line pied a terre, literally. So we left it’s the occupant obviously needs it.
Marshians previously beamed onto the area in May 2025,
There was less rubbish this time, 1.25 hours rather than 2 in the clearing. Time for a long Marshian chat, meet new Marshians, learn more about the area. Mycorrhizal connections.
Marshian spirit will move to the other end of the railway line. Bit by bit the rubbish will go.
The soil and water will breathe more clearly.
And our woodland creator writes:
Sunday morning felt and smelt like the start of Spring. Snowdrops and new green shoots popping through the leafy soil and hopeful bird song was filling the air, along the disused railway line to Footpath 6.
Flooded marshland on either side; willow planting could be a challenge today. At least the rain had stopped, and the sun was peeking through the cloud. In wellies, tentative sploshing through deep, rippling, pools. Only so far up the “footpath” without waders. It’s too deep!
Fortunately, other Marshians were wearing waders, and the willow had to be brought to me. We stood in the pools, relaxed chatting, in the welcome sunshine, whilst we chopped up the willow branches that had been left for us to plant.
So calm and peaceful, surrounded by still waters and birdsong. We planted most of the willow, the bits we could cut through, and started to plant a willow woodland where Cuckoo way meets Footpath 6. We look forward to watching them grow. A very enjoyable, uplifting, morning. Upon returning home, my new waders were waiting for me.
Rural Reading 