I think my mood became low when Tricia told me that a JCB excavator had just moved on to a site that is to be developed for housing and that it was ripping out the hedgerows. Hedgerows that were hundreds of years old. I am almost moved to tears by this action. My stomach is churning with anxiety and despair, and I am gripped by such a strong feeling of inadequacy at my inability to do anything about it.
Tricia is so strong willed and fights and rails against greedy landowners and developers with all her heart. Yesterday she even went so far as to confront the local farmer in person and tell him what she felt about his selfish wanton destruction of our countryside. I am so proud of her.
But me? All I do is sit here seething with anger. Gnash my teeth and say what's the bloody point of fighting? Money talks and money wins the day. We have no chance of winning.
And the horrible thing is; the horrible thing that makes me feel so inadequate, is that I feel ashamed that I am not more confrontational. And why am I not fighting tooth and nail? Because I don't want to spend what is left of my life being Mr Angry that's why.
"Please Tricia," I say to her when she brings me the latest bit of bad news about more land being sold off, "please don't tell me any more. I don't want to hear it."
Maybe I shall just sit here on the rickety bloody fence until someone knocks me off it. Someone in a JCB excavator no doubt.
OR MAYBE NOT!
