Twig Brooms

26^th March 2015 

Two things made me happy this morning:

1) A tracksuit clad group of old folk were out in the sunshine this morning kicking their fluorescent cluster of feathers up and down for the morning exercise they commit to every day. I watched them for a bit, astounded at how good their responses were. Seriously, forward flicks, instep kicks and behind the back tricks – not one of them was below 50; I’d go so far as to say that some were significantly older than that. Their reflexes were amazing and put me to shame when I considered that already this morning I tripped over my front door step (the very same one I walk over most mornings and evenings with no consequence), dropped my phone and narrowly missed a death scooter because I was examining the afore mentioned dropped and thankfully not cracked handset – I guess I can’t blame the deadly silent death-scooter driver this time.

I love how in China, you can drive/walk past a random piece of space, derelict building or beautifully managed park and there will be a group or individual practicing Tai Chi, feather kicking, Kung Fu, random arm flinging, Chinese dancing, anything and everything! They know how to use space and have no more hesitation about lunging (literally) past you in the street than they would simply strolling by.

2) That the street sweepers use brooms entirely made from twigs. Well, I say entirely but actually that’s not strictly true. The handle is a normal handle, I think, but the ‘brush’ is constructed from twigs and sticks. Environmentally friendly, entirely functional, renewable, classic and actually quite enjoyable to listen to. I reckon, and I’ve given this considerable thought, that we should adopt those in the UK. Seriously, it would be so much more fun than using one of those cold, hard, health and safety awarded brooms. Nah, you want a broom that can tell a story, a broom with personality; a naughty broom that is unique, not uniform; one that will lose a rebellious twig now and again but will take pride in scooping up their old mates the leaves and enjoy having a hearty reunion.

A twig broom is not going to take any messing from an anarchic piece of chewing gum or pathetically stroppy wet piece of paper. Absolutely not! No bending of plastic bristles uselessly, desperately flexing atop the old receipt undeserving of such attention shall occur with a twig brush.

Imagine how many more people would want to sweep if they knew they could use twig brushes! Kids would get involved, the weak and feeble could have a go. Worth some thought, I think.