Temperatures have taken a dip in the last few days. A meteorological change that’ll no doubt incur the wrath of those wishing to partake in today’s World Naked Gardening Day.
The current chill will be no doubt distressing for gentlemen participants. Their ‘bits’ and a cold northerly wind not the most cordial of acquaintances. Certainly not if wanting to present the aforementioned ‘bits’ at their most splendid, or risk contracting king cough.
Not possessing the edicts laid down for celebrating an amalgam of horticulture and the human form, I’m unable to shed light as to the inclusion of any caveats to help those involved mitigate against the cold.
Therefore am unable to make informed comment on whether, for example, the wearing of willy warmers is permitted while hoeing flower beds, mowing the lawn and pruning back the wilting spring bulbs. I’d venture that it’d be best for all concerned if they were – From the naturist perspective for comfort and hiding of shrivelled appendages; from a neighbour/passer-by standpoint merely to spare their blushes.
Humans aren’t the only eye-witnesses who perhaps need protecting from potentially grotesque sights of nudity amongst the narcissus. Some opine plants possess emotions similar to the genus that tend them. Consequently seeking to aid the flora and fauna’s well-being and growth via ‘plant whispering’ and/or playing them soothing music.
If those who believe plants have feelings are right, what sort of trauma would the aquilegia, forget-me nots, clematis, hydrangea et al experience if I spent this afternoon wandering around their domain with my chilled booker browns on show. I couldn’t expose my shrubs to such distressing views. Especially when they bestow upon me sights of such consummate beauty.
It’d be an iniquitous of me to traumatise the shrubs and flowers beautifying le jardin de Strachan, by adorned today’s suggested dress-code. These gloriously chromatic botanical species the catalyst to feelings of serenity produced in my sanctuaire kaleidoscopique.
Another consideration against naked gardening is there’s too many bees around to don my birthday suit. I want to encourage these Apoideas into my garden to ply their trade of cross pollination and bug culling; not frighten them to death with sights that should be left in the bedroom or bathroom. Additionally, horticulture maintenance in the buff with bees in situ introduces a risk of manhood sting; something you won’t be surprised I’m keen to avoid.
I’m sure there’s many individuals around the globe, especially where the meteorology is less inclement, who will feel moved to hoe in the buff, prune in the nude or mow starkers. To those brave people I’d like to wish them all the best, along with a warning to watch out as that pollen gets everywhere.
I’ve many uncertainties and quandaries to confront in my life. However, I can say without fear of contradiction the chances of me partaking in World Naked Gardening Day are about as likely as me taking part in World Naked Walking Through A Field of Barbed Wire Day.
Instead I’ll be partaking in World Walk to Sainsburys For Milk Day and World Walk Around Colton Village Listening to Stevie Wonder on Apple Music Day.
