Seaweed
Stephen and I drove down to the beach for our walk this morning but on reaching it we saw it was covered in the type of seaweed that I like for the garden. Over the years l have lived here, I have tried all types, but this kelp is the best. It breaks down quickly and the plants seem to like it. There is another type that I like too. This one is a pinky, soft material which forms a nice protective coating around the plants, particularly helpful as the dry summers approach. I don’t see the pink one very often and it is more difficult to pick up. When doing so, it reminds me of the rousing days, when we had to pick up big bundles of lambs’ wool. We learnt to scoop the edges together and roll the pile creating a large armful that would stay together. This method works well on this seaweed.
We returned home for the motorbike and trailer, thinking the seaweed would be an easy picking, but it wasn’t sitting on the surface as it appeared to be, rather, the bottom part was stuck in the sand, making retrieval difficult. We still managed to fill two trailer loads in a relatively short time though. We then deposited our spoils into one side of the compost bin – the other is ready to use for the vege garden, due to be planted shortly.
Before I met Stephen and before I got sick, I would do five or six loads of seaweed and not only that, I would place it straight around the plants, working from one end of the garden to the other, until all the plants had a generous amount of this natural fertilizer. With the sandy soil that we have, any goodness is soon leached through and applying compost is a continual process.
I am grateful that I am back collecting again and although two loads was my limit, at least that is better than nothing. The bike was one I bought several years ago and frustratingly had become difficult to start when we needed it. My son fixed the starter motor for us and advised us to drive it regularly, which I have been doing. On the days that Stephen doesn’t come with me for the walk, I take the motorbike. And so this morning, the old girl purred into life just as we had hoped.
One might ask why we drive to the beach when it is only 500 metres away. The answer is simple – there’s a great big hill to climb on the way home. Whilst I used to walk to the beach, my fitness is not quite back up to that standard. I am getting there though. But I tell myself, if I walked all the way, the motorbike wouldn’t be getting its exercise. There is always a reason for the things we do!