Progress in the Copse



Wednesday 2nd May 2012
Another dull start to the day.

Every single tree I planted courtesy of Lincolnshire's Hedgerow and Small Woodlands Grant has survived. Peering down into those plastic tubes a variety of fresh green leaves peer back up. Some have even made it into the fresh air above the confines of their tubular home. So the plastic tubes, which cost about five times as much as the trees themselves, have done their job so far in protecting the young saplings from the ravages of the hares and the worst of the weather.

But there is one more threat. Believe it or not, the grass growing around them could kill them, competing for the soils resources but also emitting growth stunting chemicals. At the very least, it will seriously inhibit their growth. I could spray round the base of each tree, but this does not sit at all comfortably with my beliefs.
So instead, I will need to keep the area around each tree well mulched, excluding light and so excluding grass. My plan was to make good use of the grass mowings, but so far it's been too wet to try and collect them. I'm also using every paper feed bag or cardboard box which comes my way. Ugly, but they'll do the job, they'll rot down harmlessly and they can be covered with mulch when I get the chance.

A gentle stroll through the woods  listening to the dawn chorus is just a few years away!

Name That Copse

Monday 23rd January 2012
A promising sunrise.

Sunset over our new copse. OK so it doesn't look that picturesque yet, but just imagine in a few years time. Any ideas for what to call our new woodland? We already have a Weasel Ridge and Blackberry Alley, so a nice cottage-style name is what we're after.

A Copse of our Own

Sunday 22nd January 2012

 For the briefest moment the rising sun peeked through a slither of a gap in the clouds this morning. The sky was a mix of ominous clouds sweeping quickly by interspersed with sky blue glimpses through.



Chilled Chickens

The chickens were strangely chilled out this morning. Unconcerned by my offers of food, they mooched around happily in their luxury enclosure. Perhaps they've accepted that for the moment they are to live within the very spacious confines of their fence. The wing-clipping seems to have worked, with only the guinea fowl and Chick of Elvis wandering. They never go far though without the back-up of the cockerel and the elder chickens. Since they started their worming treatment, their eggs are stronger shelled. We were finding a broken egg most days for a while. Although not of too much concern, it's not a good idea to let the chickens get a taste for egg!

A Woodland is Born

With the help of my wonderful Sue, we managed to plant a mixed copse of 175 trees today, complete with stakes and tree guards. Quite an achievement. This copse is designed to be more suitable to a slightly wetter area of land, so it is a mix of mainly birch with alder and rowan (also known as mountain ash, but doesn't actually need mountains!) All these species do well in wetter ground. This copse is the nearest to the farmhouse and orchard. The rowans will provide their berries and the birches can eventually be tapped for their sap. They are also decorative species, and I have interspersed them with other attractive shrubs and trees, such as crab apples, dogwood, dog rose and a couple of hollies. Alders and birches produce huge quantities of seed and are a favourite food of avian winter visitors such as siskins and redpolls.

At the moment it looks as if I've planted a forest of plastic tubes.

Should be more impressive in a few years time.

We finished protecting the last few trees under a glorious red sunset. When we got in, I realised just how much of a battering my poor hands had taken. It was as if they had been sandpapered... with an electric sander.

A Ghostly Apparition

Sunday 8th January 2012
A sunrise not worth getting up for!

A dash of winter colour
A pleasantly peaceful, still day spent planting some very decorative dogwoods and willows. I plan to coppice these for some unusual garden sticks in the future, maybe an exploration into hurdle making and basketry too. They should be easy to propagate so the next batch will only cost me a little patience waiting for the cuttings to root and begin sprouting new growth.

I am generally happy with my own company, especially when lost in my work outside, but it was nice to have Sue working alongside me today.

Evening wildlife extravaganza
Today's main excitement all happened in the gloom.  The dramatic sunset prompted me to take a  wander round the land perusing my planting work of the last few days. The rule at the moment is never to pass the haystack without bringing back a bale or two of hay. As I dutifully loaded the wheelbarrow with a couple of bales a ghostly barn owl appeared out of the murk. Now this would not have been a notable event when we first moved in and the farm's rodents were firmly on the menu of every local owl. In fact, up to three barn owls used to roost in the stables, but this was my first sighting of one for over half a year. I suspect that last year's exceptionally long, cold winter followed by three months of drought did for the local breeding birds, but there are still plenty in the area so I'm sure the gap will be filled sooner or later.
This was not my last surprise of the day from Mother Nature. As  I unloaded the hay bales next to the asparagus bed, ready for mulching in early spring, a pair of bright eyes flashed open at me then closed again. In the increasing gloom, I peered into my hand to realise I had inadvertently disturbed three peacock butterflies from their winter hibernation. Astonishing to ponder how such a delicate creature can survive an English winter. No point putting them back in the haystack, as they would only get disturbed again, so I gently placed them in a crevice among the hay bales in the stables. Hopefully they will find their way to the bottom and survive to brighten up the spring.
There was still time for another long absent visitor to put in an appearance. The familiar call of a Little Owl came from one of the large ash trees which attract so many birds into the garden. Last winter, a pair of Little Owls were nightly visitors and often came calling well before dark. They moved on (or perhaps just became very secretive) in the springtime, presumably to raise their chicks, and so far this year I've only heard them calling from Don's garden over the road. Let's hope I get to see plenty more of both these owl species in the coming months. They are most welcome visitors to the farm.