Friday, August 28, 2020

Squirrelproof Bins


Out for a healthy walk: Sometimes that irrational fear just creeps up on you. Out there, beyond the boundary of senses, no easy navigation possible, like dark waters, too deep for your feet to touch the bottom. Then, that cold breath on your shoulder slowly turning warm. What ravenous beast is this? What's out there, unnamed, rattling on the bars of it's damp dungeon, whispering spells and words to ingratiate itself with golden lies and promises as you lean into the dark spaces? Out there in the blind woods, where eyesight is unreliable, where sounds are tortured and unclear, where signs remain distorted and warped. Mostly just brisk cyclists and clumsy joggers passing by.

You shift your weight, foot to foot, uneasy, troubled. The sweat begins to stick to you. You're aware of your own smell, your nerve's show their clean edges. Sparking with invisible electricity and ferrule dirt. You're looking but not seeing anything, there are no connections to be made. There is no sense to this. A funny looking old dog that's off the lead is almost approaching but meandering across the path with no clear purpose, the owner cannot be seen.

Spittle and fury, limbs writhing and items flying in all directions, whimpering or howling tries to match the sounds of crows and seagulls attacking stray pigeons over on the foreshore. Or peace, tranquility, only the smooth hum of Chinese plastic wheels rings out across the bumpy unrepaired tramac and puddles as they breeze along, fruit shoots and bottles successfully deployed. Mums in leggings and hoodies shoving buggies, headed for the nursery.

You're in Scotland and it's still August. Will this month ever end? Please adjust your face mask and remain 2m clear of fellow humans, avoid eye contact, look serious and take care because our current litter bin designs don't seem to be very squirrel proof. Thank you. 

Here's a drone view of some early Earl Gray tea plants we're cultivating as a hedge against future shortages.

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