Working with this week’s topic prompt of ‘The Walk’, my mind wandered to a recent discussion at a writing workshop I attend on a bi-weekly basis.
This whimsical exchange relating to the merits, or otherwise, of an upcoming naked stroll scheduled to take place at a nearby North Yorkshire town.
Let me start by admitting my understanding of this nude ramble’s motives are limited. For example, I’ve absolutely no idea if this clambake has been organised as a charitable gig, or merely as a liberating show by like-minded Yorkshire naturists.
I’d also like to make it clear the event isn’t one of our writing groups team building adventures… Well, not that I’m aware of anyhow!… And if it is, they’ve omitted me from the invite list.
On the subject of nudity, I am penning this piece on May 1st, which to the uninitiated is ‘World Naked Gardening Day’.
To my cost, I have just learned today is also ‘World Arrested for Indecent Exposure Day’.
A harsh lesson gleaned during this morning’s garden centre visit. A tarry where I learned today’s birthday suit celebrations do not extend to lawfully purchasing garden centre products in the buff. My shame exacerbated further by foolishly undertaking the naturist act of during a chill May Day.
Experienced gardeners advise one should avoid exposing bedding plants to temperatures of below 10 degrees celsius. An advocacy I can now testify bears equal relevance to unclad male genitalia.
Footnote – Quite obviously, the above prose relating to my arrest for indecent exposure on ‘World Naked Gardening Day’ is fictional……. But only because the rozzers never caught me after I legged it from the garden centre through a toilet window. As I write, remain a fugitive from justice.
Saturday would’ve been much more appropriate weather conditions for gardening in the buff. An almost unbroken spell of sunshine making it a beautiful day to work through my gardening ‘To Do List’.
Instead of today’s chilly climes, which make tending the peony rose a no-go this bank holiday… One thing is for sure, not many unclad peonies would rise in these temps… And no, peonies is not a typo… You and your mind, honestly!
God only knows how many gardening naturists take up this opportunity of pruning with your prunes in sight. If truth be told, I can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone garden in the raw, apart from on TV… And trust me, that will be the last time I tune into the Sky Gardening channel!
On the topic of horticulture, I’ve been upgrading sections of my partner Sarah’s rear garden (not a euphemism). These tasks include my staining of timber, installation of fence lights, along with populating pots with gloriously achromatic flora and fauna.
That being said, Sarah has also provided sterling support with her own fence staining stints. Not to mention, affording me frequent ‘encouragement’ by pointing at fence panels to point out “You’ve missed a bit, you slack get!”
At this juncture, I’d just like to state I’m lost as to the point of World Naked Gardening Day. After all, why on earth would anyone want to risk getting soil, or perhaps an overly inquisitive insect, lodged ‘down south’ in the name of horticultural maintenance?… Equally intriguingly, bereft of clothing, where are you supposed to store your secateurs?
I enjoy gardening, especially now as I’m retired and can potter around the yard at a leisurely pace. However, there’s little, if any, chance of seeing me tend my borders with bosker browns resting on a poor unsuspecting shrub. For one thing, I’d hate to traumatise my much-loved plants with such a reckless exhibitionistic act.
I’m up for a laugh as much as the next guy, unless of course the next guy isn’t up for a laugh. However, believe it to not, I do have some boundaries; one of them being not to stroll outdoors while bollock naked.
I’ll leave the nude hedge trimming (again, not a euphemism) and bulb tendering (a euphemism) to the exhibitionists among the gardening fraternity.
Whatever would Percy Thrower have made of it?!
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