Like Mushrooms From the Ground

I took the scenic route through town to mark my special day, even though it’s a little bit longer. I was feeling leisurely and sentimental. On days like this, I go that way to remember life before the ‘phase out.’ Lace curtains in Lukas and Hannah’s living room window remind me of our weekly dinners together that still bring tears to my eyes. I can almost hear their children laughing their way down the blue Karibu slide that stands in their yard. I’ll have to come by and clean the slide, which is gathering dust, and tend to their overgrown bushes. They wouldn’t have liked to see their house this way.

The town is eerily empty. I come back to the present and feel the weight of its silence. Almost everyone left when the mines shut down. We were promised a ‘smooth transition’ and new jobs by the ‘green transition societies.’ But the jobs never came and those that did were in nowhere near the numbers we thought. Tourism plans failed to take off because the acidity of the mines-turned-lakes just couldn’t be managed. There’s only a few of us gardeners out here now tending to LEAG’s solar park sites. Gardening jobs were highly competitive and coveted when they first opened up; they offered good wages, an almost unheard-of pension, and the ability to stay at home. But benefits and hardships are sometimes one side of the same coin. There’s a gardener who lives not so far from me in Welzow. I think his name is Max but he keeps to himself. Electricians come by every once and a while, but they are bussed out almost as quickly as they are bussed in.

When I arrived at the solar park, it was already 5:14. The sun was starting to rise. I checked my work chart. Today, I am scheduled to work on ‘quadrant 7.’ I gathered my gloves, hedge shears, and a wheelbarrow and made my way over. The grasses in the quadrant have been cracking through the pavement, sprouting everywhere as mines once did like mushrooms from the ground. The grasses need to be cut before they obstruct or interfere with the PVs. Last September that happened and we had to call in the electricians. The boss wasn’t happy. I can’t risk making her unhappy again.

There’s a cool breeze but the sun feels warm as I trim and pile up the grasses. I stop from time to time to admire the forest around me, listening to the rustling of the pine trees. It’s hard to imagine that these lands were not so long ago open mining pits. I’ll have to collect some pine cones on my way home and harvest their nuts.

At noon, I take my 30-minute lunch break. I sit in the shade of a PV and enjoy my cold vegetable stew. I play the same Hidato puzzle I’ve been playing for years, then erase my markings so I can play it again. I’ve been getting better at solving the puzzle. Today, it takes me 12 minutes. Not my personal best. I’m a little distracted, I guess.

I return to trimming grasses after lunch. LEAG’s autonomous truck will be here soon to pick up what I’ve trimmed and take it to the biomass energy plant. The truck comes by at 3 pm sharp. Once I’ve loaded the grasses, I take a walk around the grounds, looking out for any unwanted bird nests and wayward roots. I clock out at 3:14 and make my way back home.

This time, I cut through the forest. I’m a bit tired and ready for my nap. Tonight, I think I’ll make a pie from berries from my garden, watch the news, and write to some friends. Lukas and Hannah’s children are teenagers by now. How slow and fast time has passed since they all left.