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After all the beauty of the newly fell snow, comes the nastiness of the ice.
We have had one casualty already. Just a broken wrist, but a reminder of how close beauty is to pain.
I have today cycled in the snow, then on the snow, and I would never exchange that experience for anything.
Trying to replicate some of the wonderful compost toilets seen in Climate Camps and similar projects, I got involved in the FolkUs festival in Sanford Housing Coop.
I planned to build fully functioning compost toilets for the event but, after some mild objections expressed in private (not every one manages to see urine as liquid gold), I decided to have just straw-bale urinals and latrines.
I am writing this report about the hours I spent in La Ilera, just about thirty. I arrived by car in a spring afternoon to what, at that time, only looked like an open field with a fence in the middle and some planted sticks.
I learned very early on that the sticks were actually trees that M. was planting as a beginning of her forest garden project design, which was completely strange and new to me even though I had already heard something about permaculture.
#34 phoned me to tell me a story of a lost contact lens and the need for me to go to his house to pick up a replacement. When I arrived again at the camp, he was eagerly waiting for me at the top of the gate. Many people had climbed there to witness the stops and searches taking place right outside and to make the newcomers a bit more welcome.
The next three days were similar in structure to one another, although the mood in ourselves, and around us, changed gradually until it was completely different on the Sunday than it had been the first day.
The day routine started with breakfast and a neighbourhood meeting almost at the same time. Then the camp would re-organise itself in working teams until lunch, and then whatever had been left unfinished in the morning, would continue to be done in the afternoon.
Food for some thousand people had to arrive on foot from the nearest roundabout, about half a mile away, because vehicles were no longer allowed down the local road that led to the camp.
We looked to our right and we could see some lights in the distance. We figured out that they were torches inside tents. It was about one in the morning after all, so it was fair enough that most people would be asleep by now.
Then, ahead of us, on the road, two human figures waved their hands to indicate that we should stop. Police.
We set off at about three in the afternoon with our camping tents, sleeping bags, lots of water for the journey, some spare clothes to last a week and a lot of dry food from FareShares. Both our bike racks were fully loaded, with two pannier bags and the tents and sleeping bags on top.
Just realised I can go to “Camp for Climate Action”, otherwise known just as just “Climate Camp”, at least four days at a time. I could go by bike with D. who is also free. Called him, arranged to meet on Thursday afternoon.
They keep saying it is only five of six hours, so, even if we go slower and take seven or eight hours, we can get there at about nine or ten, setting off at about 2pm.
It is all arranged then.
