Musings from the Merse
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
SCENTS OF SILENCE
Hutton is mostly inhabited by incomers of one vintage or another. Very few amongst us were born here. But it is not a long-range commuter stronghold-as say Paxton will become as the denizens of Kanes Close and the Orchard inherit the earth. As those of the community who are in paid employment work reasonably locally. Two or three are teleworkers,commuting to their own keyboards only. Not all are actively involved in village life-the societies are predominantly older folk and the workers away from the village are on the whole not the coffee evening/morning Village Hall habitués who have been the backbone supporters of money raising events for the new hall and very few recent incomers seem to bother with the church which in many rural communities is (still) at its heart. But attendance at services is not high and we are likely to lose the local incumbent within the next 12 months and be pastorally cared for from a village down the road but outwith the parish boundary.
I asked a not too recent newcomer, peripherally involved in local affairs what if anything he disliked about local life. Isolation? Lack of shops and other amenities townees take for granted? No Channel 5? None of the above apparently:
'Smell he said. 'Like today'
I focused my nose. Yes there was a smell. Slurry. Wafted on the wind and once in your nostrils it’s a bit like tomcat territory marking scent. Reluctant to escape. It is not an every day event, but more often at this time of year and after 9 years here I hardly notice it anymore. This guy, bucolically challenged, has been around much longer than I have and it still gets to him. He can only escape by leaving for work early; returning late and keeping all windows hermetically sealed. And praying for the wind to change. 'I did not move to the country to be stunk out' he said. But he has and must live with it. Or return to town.
It’s a bit like low flying aircraft. Very irritating when it happens but you put up with it for the greater good. For the sake of the Defence of the Realm (or bombing crack heads amongst the Taliban) in the case of the planes and for the sake of good crops with regard to the slurry. I said all this.
He was not convinced.
And sniffed disapprovingly.
In the circumstances that was a mistake
Hutton is mostly inhabited by incomers of one vintage or another. Very few amongst us were born here. But it is not a long-range commuter stronghold-as say Paxton will become as the denizens of Kanes Close and the Orchard inherit the earth. As those of the community who are in paid employment work reasonably locally. Two or three are teleworkers,commuting to their own keyboards only. Not all are actively involved in village life-the societies are predominantly older folk and the workers away from the village are on the whole not the coffee evening/morning Village Hall habitués who have been the backbone supporters of money raising events for the new hall and very few recent incomers seem to bother with the church which in many rural communities is (still) at its heart. But attendance at services is not high and we are likely to lose the local incumbent within the next 12 months and be pastorally cared for from a village down the road but outwith the parish boundary.
I asked a not too recent newcomer, peripherally involved in local affairs what if anything he disliked about local life. Isolation? Lack of shops and other amenities townees take for granted? No Channel 5? None of the above apparently:
'Smell he said. 'Like today'
I focused my nose. Yes there was a smell. Slurry. Wafted on the wind and once in your nostrils it’s a bit like tomcat territory marking scent. Reluctant to escape. It is not an every day event, but more often at this time of year and after 9 years here I hardly notice it anymore. This guy, bucolically challenged, has been around much longer than I have and it still gets to him. He can only escape by leaving for work early; returning late and keeping all windows hermetically sealed. And praying for the wind to change. 'I did not move to the country to be stunk out' he said. But he has and must live with it. Or return to town.
It’s a bit like low flying aircraft. Very irritating when it happens but you put up with it for the greater good. For the sake of the Defence of the Realm (or bombing crack heads amongst the Taliban) in the case of the planes and for the sake of good crops with regard to the slurry. I said all this.
He was not convinced.
And sniffed disapprovingly.
In the circumstances that was a mistake
Comments:
If town people can't hack living in the country smells and all they are very welcome to go back to the cities with the sweet aromas of exhausts, factory chimneys and sweaty people in Tubes. Give me manure and slurry every time
# posted by 
: 2:02 PM
: 2:02 PM
I'm with anonymous - cities are ok to visit, but having lived in several in my time they're not for me. Low flying planes are a passing distraction - no noise, noise, no-noise it's over that quick - ok it might be over that quick 15 times a day, but it's a small price to pay for near silence the rest of the time.
I find it really noticeable when I go to even small towns how noisy and smelly they are.... and don't get me started on the 'black snot' capital of the world - London!
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I find it really noticeable when I go to even small towns how noisy and smelly they are.... and don't get me started on the 'black snot' capital of the world - London!
