We’re making great progress. Most of the bush has been removed from the southern boundary and we’re half-way across the eastern boundary, where the majority of the jungle and fallen trees are located. We have four rather large piles waiting to be burned (I think I feel like a boinfire party, cold Kubulis and a cook-up for that occasion) and some rather snaggy bush, elephant grass, and dead trees to negotiate. But we’re getting there.
One of the guys helping me, Michael, has lost the bravado of a month ago when he announced he was impervious to red ants and bete rouge (chiggers). After several weeks of itching, he now needs coaxing to get in there. Today I noticed he had been raking for an hour, so I sharpened a machete, gave it to him and nodded towards the bush. “Ayee, bete rouge in there, for sure!” he protested. Honestly.
It’s funny. From time to time I come across a plant I’d like to leave alone. Today it was a young tree fern growing on the bank along the eastern boundary. I cut around it carefully, pulling everything else away to leave it standing proud of the weeds and free to grow. Half-an-hour later, it had gone. I looked across at Michael; he was swinging a machete to zombie music, lost in his own world. I grimaced and felt sorry for the bush (or anything else for that matter) lying in his path.
