- Changing the date changes nothing – I suggest we opt for celebration
- This invasion day, we’re asking you to pay the rent
- ‘The Gentleman’ shows that Guy Ritchie can still Guy Ritchie
- The fire-affected people of NSW don’t want ad hoc policy, they want to be listened to
- We’ve had an anti-corruption body since 2006, so where the bloody hell are they?
Officially, Nude Gardening Day has come and gone, however, I will say that the sentiment should be carried on throughout the year. Get it all out, who cares? I dig it.
Recently, the world celebrated Nude Gardening Day.
I’ve never gardened nuddy before and I wouldn’t say I’m a naturalist; more of an “occasional-nude-enthusiast”.
Many moons ago I posed naked for Radio Adelaide (the University community radio station) for the front cover of their quarterly subscriber magazine. I had the station logo artfully painted on my left bum cheek and then lay down in some long spring grass with a big floppy sun hat on. It was liberating and daring and nearly caused a couple of bushwalkers to have heart attacks.
Once my partner and I, on a scorching hot day, went to the local nudist beach, stripped off and ran into the ocean. Despite a handful of people being around, including a guy that was a bit pervy, it felt exhilarating and we laughed our sandy arses off for hours after.
So when the article popped up in my feed this week, declaring this unique day, I thought “it’s time to nude up and get gardening”. After all, those autumn leaves weren’t going to rake themselves and one doesn’t want to die with regrets, does one?
Unlike the photoshoot over 20 years ago, my body is chunkier and there are saggy bits from having babies (and eating too much cheese), but honestly the older I get, the less I care. The autumn sun felt magnificent on my buttocks and the gentle breeze reached parts that don’t usually catch the breeze.
The article that I read about World Nude Gardening Day didn’t go into the perils of using tools and being in the great outdoors, of which there are many. Nude gardening is not for the absentminded; no-one wants a bamboo steak up the butt, ant bite on your lady bits or a nasty accident with the pruning shears.
Harder to manage was the fact that the neighbour and her elderly mother, who now lives with her, were on their back deck which is significantly higher than our yard and overlooks one corner. But even if they copped an eyeful it might be a thrill for the old chook and give them something to gossip about.
We’re too bloody worried about nudity these days, our kids are all prudish and everyone melts down with a flash of accidental side-boob. How are we supposed to be cool with our bodies if we’re always hiding them away?
The Scandinavians have got it going on, with saunas, skinny dips in icy lakes and that “whippy thing” they do with birch branches (maybe I’ve got some long distant Scandi blood in me).
So even if you missed World Nude Gardening day, here’s the challenge: do a nudie run, let your teenagers see you wandering around the house in your undies, grab your lover and have sneaky shag on a secluded bush walk, go for a spontaneous skinny dip or get your kit off in your own backyard…
Feel the sun on your bum.
Life’s too short not to.