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Taplow Wombles
My working day starts and ends with a brisk walk from my front door at to Platform 4 at Taplow Station. I need 13 minutes to make the train. All too often, I don't leave enough time and end up with a sprint finish down Station Road. There is something mildly debasing about running for a train. Some would rather miss it than be seen dashing, arms flailing, towards beeping doors. But for me running has an advantage – less time to pontificate on the endless trail of litter. I despair when I see it, like graffiti on the magnificent walls of St Paul's Cathedral. And what's even more tragic than the filth being on the roadside is that someone threw it there. Hard as I try, I can't get my head around the carelessness of it all. I try to rationalise it as an act of defiance – two fingers to Society during hard times – but this seems too generous. Whatever the reason, it was there and wasn't going anywhere. So I decided to do something about it. The sensible thing would have been to call the Council or galvanise support from willing villagers, but this was personal and I was impatient. It was making my walk to work a profoundly unhappy one.
I persuaded my children Ben and Lexie to join me. I wanted them to see
the toxic and lasting effect litter has on the countryside and to feel
a sense of responsibility for their surroundings. As it happens, they
were halfway there already. St Nicolas' School has evidently instilled
a civic conscience in the children. I was astounded to hear them
talking about nature and the environment and the importance of taking
care of it. For an hour at least they enjoyed clearing the place up.
We covered the two-mile round trip from Hitcham Grange to Taplow
Station. Working solo, it took me eight hours to collect 15 sacks full
to bursting with fag packets, endless beer cans, plastic bags,
McDonald's lids, straws, cups, boxes, crisp packets, sweet wrappers,
tissues, a toaster, a sodden furry hat, 3 shoes, socks, a bag of
clothes, a condom, 3 hub caps and a partridge in a pear tree. I also
picked up 50 or 60 bags of dog poo. You have to ask yourself – what
kind of person bothers to clear up after their dog only to throw the
result in a hedge a few yards down the road?
The most disturbing thing was the age of some of the rubbish. Grass
roots had a desperate grip on some very old crisp packets and sweet
wrappers but, in the end, the earth couldn't stomach it. Bizarrely this
gave me hope – now it has been cleared up it will take time to return
to that dreadful state.
The spring-clean has worked its magic and the land looks as proud as
punch. For a few days, the walk through Taplow was perfectly unspoilt
and some weeks on it is still looking pleasantly rural. I have come to
terms with the fact that the litter will reappear but I realise now
that I'm happier picking it up than walking past it in despair.
I was quite content wombling along in relative anonymity, as many
others have done before, but our little endeavour has sparked a flame.
Two Cherry children and two Hills led a collection of 9 parents and
neighbours who spent an hour and a half braving freezing conditions and
snow sprinkles on 24th March to fill 19 bin bags with rubbish discarded
on Mill Lane and the Jubilee River footpaths. Another venture is
planned for May. Taplow is a beautiful village. Efforts like these will
help to keep it that way.
Jamie Barnard