Pleachers, Beetles and Binders - a day spent hedge laying

The weekend started with a gorgeous sunrise.

This morning's sunrise, captured through the top of the fedge.

Sue and I had signed up for a spot of hedge laying organised by the CSSG (Cambridgeshire Self Sufficiency Group). We've done a fair bit of conservation work and woodland management in the past, but hedge laying was something new to us. Thankfully we had Mick on hand, Mick who pretty much runs the CSSG and who is an absolute mine of knowledge.

Our hedge was located a fair way away down in Haddenham in The Fairchild Meadows. The local committee and helpers from around the village were keen for someone to help them lay about 100 metres of hedge. Mick had been looking for a hedge to demonstrate on and to let us loose on for a while.

This old woman (the one on the left) was pleased to see us laying

the meadow hedge in the traditional way.

The dog is, apparently, an ex champion at Crufts.

This was it's first long walk for a few weeks as it had to be put in a kennels

as its owner had rolled her car!

Mick showed us how to cut, bend, twist and tie a ten year old hedge into a neatly laid hedge. And why would you want to do this? Originally it was mainly to keep in livestock, though these days this is more usually done with fencing. But it also rejuvenates a hedge, using its established rootstock to spark plenty of new growth from the base.

After a little pruning on the good side of the hedge, we learned that you basically perform a shocking piece of tree surgery low down on the main trunk, cutting at an angle almost all the way through until you can bend the whole tree over. The half-severed trunk is now known as a pleacher.


This part of the task was surprisingly satisfying, although the blackthorns in particular occasionally bit back!

Next part of the process was to drive in hazel stakes at 18" intervals. I hadn't realised the importance of these. They are woven together using long hazel or willow binders and provide a framework through the newly laid hedge so that it doesn't get damaged by the wind.

Then it's time for the beetle to come out. I have no idea if I heard this term quite correctly, but that's what it sounded like. It may just be a very local word. It is basically just a big bit of stick for tamping down the woven binders to secure the pleaches and brushwood.

And that's it!

We didn't quite get the whole 100 metre stretch done, but some folks are going back tomorrow, hopefully to finish it off.
What we did achieve was pretty impressive though and I can't wait for one of our young hedges to get old enough to be laid. (that sounds so wrong, but I can't think how to rephrase!)
Or I could be really brave and tackle the twenty foot high roadside hedge... or that might be a bit too ambitious.
However, I could possibly apply some of the same principles to gradually try and rejuvenate it. It would be reassuring to think that there was something beyond the rickety fence should the sheep ever decide to jump.

Fedging, not sledging

Before I write anything else, I have just been down to let the chickens out and had the great pleasure to watch two barn owls perched and flying around the sheep field. One is the most ghostly one I think I've ever seen. The owls are becoming active at the moment. Last night a pair of Little Owls were duet calling from over near the veg patch somewhere. I mimicked their call and managed to get both birds to fly into the Ash Tree just outside the patio doors. Amazing!
But there was a reason for the pair of barn owls being quite so conspicuous this morning, for a fortunate forgetful moment meant that I had to nip back to the chicken pen to close one of the doors. Without this slight senior moment I wouldn't have seen the Short-eared Owl which was flopping about over the field. So three owl species in two days. That can't be bad!

It's been a bit wet and windy this last week, but ridiculously mild. The soil is too wet to work for a while, so I've turned my efforts to other jobs. I pollarded some willows which I planted about four years ago and was left with an assortment of logs, sticks, twigs and whips. Only one thing to do... build a fedge!
Last year I experimented with this, but I really just stuck a few sticks into the ground in a pattern and hoped they'd grow. I took the chance to inspect them the other day and only about half have taken. Some weren't pushed into the ground far enough, some I think were just too thin and some were older wood with less chance of rooting.

But this year's fedge was going to be done properly. Firstly, I would use only the freshest wood. Secondly, I would use a strip of ground cover material to protect the young fedge from grass competition. Thirdly, I would keep to a neat, criss-cross weave pattern. And finally, I would make proper deep holes so I could get the sticks as deep into the soil as possible.

While Sue got busy with the loppers to give each stick a neat, pointed end, I searched out something to make the holes with. I eventually settled for an old polytunnel crop bar, which actually made for the perfect tool.

If I could go back to my youth and choose a career, I would probably become a woodsman, living in a shack, coppicing, making charcoal, green woodworking... it's probably a bit late for that now (especially as some tree species go on a twenty year cycle!) But to have planted my own willow, to be starting to coppice and pollard it and to be using the product to construct my own fedge, outside on a fine winter's day with Sue and the dogs, that comes pretty close to perfick!

Another aside. When I was cutting back the edible hedgerow, which is now into it's fifth year and thickening up nicely, I spotted a nest. My guess is that it belonged to the gang of house sparrows which spent so much of their time in the hedge during the summer months.

My hedge's first nest!
Note the fresh green leaves... at the end of December!

Anyway, here's the almost finished fedge. It just needs some long whips weaving in across the top.

It would have been finished by now but I needed to harvest the long whips. These came from a different patch of willows which I had cut back for the first time in their lives just last year. Being slightly older trees, the year's growth they had put on was amazing, with some shoots almost two inches thick at the base and many whips up to about 10 feet long.

My willow harvest, all bundled up

Any older wood I cut back gets thrown to the sheep who instantly get to work debarking it. I can then use it for any stakes which I don't want to take root. The smaller twigs get devoured and turned into fertiliser, lamb meat and wool! Nothing goes to waste.

An Egyptian mummy points out the offending branch!

But then I had to stop. For whilst cutting another willow down to head height, one of the branches somehow fell down onto my saw hand such that the bow saw teeth bit into my other hand, the one holding onto the tree as I was precariously standing in a V about three feet above the top of the step ladder. I stayed in the tree, but that bow saw had a good chew on my hand!
Not too much damage was done, but I had some quite nasty scratches and it stung.
All is fixed up now and the bandage makes it look more dramatic than it was. It's just on to hold the dressing and to give protection so the wounds don't open up again.

For today, I'll be taking it easy, though I should be able to weave in those whips.

I've just ordered a book on living willow structures, so there'll be more to come next year. Archways, benches, domes...

ed... Update

The fedge is finished!

And the hand is on the mend. The bandages are off and the cuts are healing fast.

Cherry Plums from the Edible Hedgerow

One of the first things I did when we moved in was to plant an edible hedgerow, more for the hedgerow and the birds than for its harvest. It's only a token hedgerow really and doesn't go far towards making amends for the miles and miles of missing wildlife corridors and habitat which farmers have destroyed over the years to accommodate their bigger and bigger machinery. Mind you, here on the fens there probably never were too many hedgerows, just dykes, but a few hedgerows wouldn't go amiss.

I don't intend to lay my hedge as it doesn't need to keep livestock in or out, but I did prune it heavily for its first two years to encourage a nice bushy base.

So now, approaching its fifth winter, my hedgerow has flourished. I even think it had nesting sparrows in it this year. If not nesting, they certainly made extensive use of it.
For the first time it is keeping up to its promise of being edible with a good harvest, several kilograms, of cherry plums already and more to come. The blackthorns are dripping with sloe berries and there are elderberries and rose hips too. We'll have to wait a while longer for hazelnuts and wild pears and the blackberries never got established.

I've since planted the same length of hedge and more again, so in a few years time we'll be overflowing with hedgerow fruits.

Barny's Back!

I have spent most of the last two days grappling with electric fence wire, made from a substance of which the sole function is to tie itself in unfathomable knots. It has been absolutely glorious weather, which is not really what was needed when spending two days working right out in the open. Having said that, the bottom of my land is a very peaceful place to relax... until that blasted fence wire twists itself into yet another impossible knot. At least I've got an instant tan, though that's not really the done thing these days.

The bottom of my land is a place of long, undisturbed grassland surrounded by the young trees I have planted, which are finally starting to look like they may one day actually become big, grown-up trees. At least one pair of skylarks seem to be nesting down there, constantly serenading me from somewhere up in the blue sky. A Meadow Pipit, too, made frequent visits, its mouth full of grubs for its young, and a female Reed Bunting broke cover a couple of times.

But best bird news of all is that I have had daily Barn Owl sightings for five consecutive days having virtually not seen one for well over a year. Hunting during the day is a sure sign that it has young to feed. After a population crash over the last couple of years, it will be brilliant for the barn owl to again be part of our fenland landscape.
The Little Owls, I presume, have young too. They are very active during the day flying between the old Ash trees and even perching out sometimes. They too seem to be faring well. I have seen four in this area within the last week. The pair of Yellow Wagtails continue to add a splash of colour to the pig enclosure and finally I have heard a cuckoo this year. In fact I saw two fly acoss the neighbouring field being chased by a blackbird.

Yellow Wagtail

Today my job is to plant 66m of bird-friendly, intruder unfriendly hedge. I wouldn't normally be planting bare root trees at this time of year since they would have long come out of their winter dormancy. However, those folks at Ashridge Nurseries have had them in cold storage and are selling them off half price.
The bird-friendly hedge consists of the following native species: Hawthorn, Wild Cherry Plum, Wild Privet, Hazel, Wild Damson, Guelder Rose, Blackthorn, Dog Rose and Field Maple. I've ordered extra hawthorn slips just to make sure it becomes impenetrable and I shall be using it to fill any gaps in our boundary with the road. Any left will be planted as a windbreak.
Who knows, one day Barny may well be spotted hunting along my new hedgerow.
 

Hedging my bets

This Sunday just gone couldn't have been more different to the previous one. Thunder, lightning and hail were replaced by bright sunshine. Great tits burst into song (they do this whenever there is a hint of spring in the air. Will they never learn?), blue tits prospected for nest sites and, most delightfully the first skylark song of the year rang out all day long.

There was still a fairly stiff breeze though. This is a price we pay here on The Fens in exchange for huge skies and 360 degrees of almost uninterrupted horizon. Another plus is that the breeze has managed to dry out the ground a little. The mud is now a little less slippy and a bit more sticky!

I've resisted surrounding our land with laurels or leylandii, but there are times when I wish there was a bit more shelter. The same goes for the chickens and my vegetable plants. Pigs and sheep don't seem so bothered.

Give it a couple of years and this will be a magnificent privet hedge.

So I have come up with a plan, but it's one that requires a fair degree of patience. I've decided to plant a series of hedges to break up the worst of the wind. I'd already done some of this with an edible hedgerow, which is growing and thickening up nicely, but at this time of year deciduous plants do little to stop a harsh wind blowing through.

So I spent this Sunday planting 150 bareroot plants. I purchased them on the internet and I have to say I was very pleased indeed with the quality of the plants. They had excellent root systems and should settle in very quickly. After yesterday's post about the merits of taking cuttings, I could have gone down the cuttings route for my hedges, but a three year heads start was, in this case, well worth it. I can always add the cuttings into the scheme if they take.

The main hedging plant I've used is good old privet. It holds most of its leaves throughout the year, it grows relatively quickly and its fairly easy to keep at a reasonable height, which means I can still scan the fields for birds and still enjoy expansive views. It's not the native form, but it still provides a very reasonable habitat and cover.

More privet to give the chickens a break from the wind.

I also purchased a moderate number of copper beech plants. These are, in fact, Sue's early Valentine's present as this is her favourite tree. Not just a good looker, copper beech also hangs onto its leaves through the winter when its kept as a hedge. Not only that, but they rustle. I love a bit of rustling.

The geese inspecting my new copper beech hedge.
Come back in five years and listen to them rustle
(the beech leaves, not the geese!)

Rosehippy Syrup

Rosehips

Wednesday 24th October 2012
Is there anything out there?

For all I know there could be a giant flying saucer parked half a mile away in the middle of a field. It could have been there for several days and nobody would know. For I am beginning to question the existence of the horizon, let alone the sun.

There really aren't many outside jobs which are satisfying in this weather. I did spend a morning extracting thistles from the meadow. A couple of skeins of geese flew low over, though I couldn't see them in the low mist.


No. This is the sort of weather to be staying inside doing homely things such as finding ways of preserving hedgerow fruits.

Sue picked a bowlful of rosehips over the weekend and had found a H F-W recipe for turning them into a syrup, reputedly good for coughs or as a drizzle for ice-cream.


















After de-stalking, the rosehips were whizzed in the food processor. The great thing about this recipe is that you don't have to spend hours on the fiddly task of extricating all the hairy insides (does anybody else remember using this stuff as itching powder, stuffing it down the backs of people's blazers at school?!).

Then they were scolded in water twice and drained through a muslin jelly bag overnight.

Into the resulting clarified juice was dissolved a good wodge of sugar and the whole was boiled up and jarred.

Delicious, perfumey aromas pervaded the whole house. It somehow smelled of an autumn evening.

The finished product. You won't find this in the shops.

Wind in the Willows, Birches, Rowans, Alders...

Saturday 21st January 2012

The sun still did not show itself as it broke the horizon, but the sky was more promising for the day ahead.

Wind in the Willows, Birches, Rowans, Alders, Hazels, Crab Apples, Field Maples, Guelder Roses, Dog Roses, Ash trees, Dogwoods, Blackthorns...

We know when it's a windy day here. The sun comes up! Well, that's how it seems sometimes. A Westerly wind especially announces itself. The front door howls and whistles. Today was a breezy one - not unusual out here on The Fens. There's nothing to stop the airflow and it's better to embrace it rather than try to fight it. Important to remember that when ahead lies a weekend planting trees out on the most exposed parts of the farm. Today the wind swung round to a Northwesterly, bringing with it several squally showeres of decidedly chilly rain. So it was that I found myself huddled up in the lee of what remains of the haystack. But today's task was a "whatever the weather" task. The 430 trees which arrived too late to begin planting on Thursday now needed my attention.

What they'd look like in two years, five years or twenty years time is hard to imagine, so I like to drive stakes in where the trees are to go to get some sort of picture.

Since moving in to Swallow Farm, I have been keen to preserve the views across the surrounding farmland to the horizon. At the same time, there is a definite need to provide some element of shelter from the winds. The prevailing wind sweeps in from the Southwest, which is why whenever I stake a tree the stake goes on that side of the tree. So I have come up with a policy of breaking the airflow with a series of short hedgerows which still preserve the views as far as possible. I have planned the same for the new woodland areas, to allow breaks in the woodland through which to admire the openness of the landsape. Not only that, but I still need to be able to scan all around to look at the birds!

Our land is very long and thin, running west to east, so I have also used the perspective as far as possible to plant as many trees as possible and still keep open the eastern horizon where the sun comes up. 

I managed to place 430 stakes in a morning. In the afternoon I began the daunting task of planting the trees. Each one is barely a slip, so they can go into a T-shaped slit in the ground made with the spade ... in theory. The bare root saplings need their roots protecting from drying out until just before planting, so I take about 25 out at a time and transport them around in a bucket of water, giving them one final dip before planting. Under no circumstances should they be stored with the roots submerged long term. They will drown.

I planted a single species area of hazels, planted fairly close together so that when I eventually coppice them they grow up nice and straight . If I had a larger area I would intersperse the occasional ash tree to grow above them as standard trees. Then a line of Scots Pines on the exposed side of the land to eventually provide a majestic windbelt. Finally 50 Sycamores, for quick growth and quick coppice. The only species in this woodland scheme which is non-native, sycamore has been quick to adapt to life in Britain, and our native buglife has been quick to learn to exploit sycamore in return. One of its main benefits is that it is reputedly immune from rabbit grazing. Ultimately though, sycamores on the coast seem to act as a magnet for warblers on migration, so maybe one day my small migrant trap might attract something unusual like a Yellow-browed Warbler. Everything I plant has at least one purpose, be it for a crop, visual attraction or for the wildlife.

Magical Morning

 Saturday 7th January 2012.

Nearly missed my sunset photo this morning. Not that I woke up late, just dawdling down to the spot where I take my photos from, raising my binoculars once too often. It's so warm the great tits and collared doves have started singing their springtime songs.

Sometimes you get two sunrises as a thin line of cloud often hugs the horizon. The second can be more dramatic as the sun tips its head above the cloud.

This is not unusual enough to justify the title of this post though.

That honour goes to the magical Merlin which cut through the morning air and scythed its way across the meadow. These diminutive falcons are masters of flight, capable of amazing speed and agility, performing astonishing acrobatics and twists and turns in pursuit of their unlucky prey. As it crossed the field towards the meridian obelisk (it's in that clump of 3 tall trees you can see in the top left picture) flocks of finches, starlings and woodpigeons split apart in blind panic and scattered like exploding fireworks. This is only the second merlin I've seen here. If it stays, it'll only be for the winter as it breeds in more northern climes. The local meadow pipits, which did not show themselves this morning, would probably rather it moves on before then!

After that exciting start to the day, I set to work planting trees. I finished putting in the edible hedge, then a greengage to replace the one tree I Iost last year (still clinging on to the hope that it comes back). Next, a line of poplars, then ten small-leaved limes and ten sweet chestnuts. These multipurpose trees are scattered around the veg plot, the forest garden and the orchard. Some I shall coppice to make harvesting easier and to produce poles. Others can grow to their full size and grandeur.

I made slower progress than I planned today, and when darkness halted my outdoor work for the day, I was fast asleep within 20 minutes! I woke up mildly aching, but in a good way. Anyone who's done a day's hard physical work in the open air will know the feeling I mean.

Tomorrow, the birches, dogwoods, willows and the evergreens. That's the aim. If it doesn't quite work out, there's always another day... Except I found out today that the next 400 trees will be arriving on 19th of this month!!

Hedgerow Jam, Here We Come.

The courier van appeared at 11 o'clock. I'd just finished mending the wheelbarrow and had started to move the hay stack. Anyway, all jobs have been put on hold, since from experience it is important to get bareroot trees planted as soon as possible, especially if you can take advantage of good weather and good soil conditions.
I impatiently opened the 4 packages to check the order. I was impressed with the quality of the trees I received. Thanks to Ashridge Nurseries of Castle Cary. I was also reminded that I did not have 137 trees to plant. I had 188! One of the items was actually a whole hedge.

Here's what 188 trees look like.

Hopefully in a couple of years they'll be looking a little more impressive.
So, after changing my mind several times about the location of the edible hedge, I prepared the ground and set to planting. By dark I'd managed to get 50 trees in. The last went in by feel rather than sight. In a few years the jams and jellies will be flooding out courtesy of this hedgerow. Just imagine what I can concoct with elder berries, hazelnuts, wild pears, dog rose hips, blackberries, sloes, hawthorn hips, crab apples and cherry plums.

Other stuff
Another cow got onto the road today. They provide an excellent traffic calming measure!

Chickens and Carbon Offsetting.

Friday 6^th January 2012

Chicken talk
What a beautiful morning. The air was clear, a joy to breathe in. Most importantly, the air was still after endless gales. A pheasant strolled across the meadow, its rich rust and coppery tones beautifully lit by the early sun. There was a shooting party out yesterday, so this one was obviously either lucky or had outwitted them. A light frost touched the ground and a wafer thin layer of ice floated over the surface of the chicken drinkers. A light prod did the job of breaking it. I’m sure a thoughtful chicken could have done the same job with a hefty peck, but they never seem to think of it. Sorry if it’s too much detail, but this type of morning is perfect for picking over the grass in the chicken complex. Their valuable droppings, lightly frozen, are like plucking chicken nuggets from the carton (not that I ever do this). I only wish I could train them where to leave their deposits!

No eggs first thing today. Probably because one of the hutches from the chicken village has been removed for repair.

Part of the chicken village.

Chickens like to sort out their pecking order (who roosts in which hut, which perch, who goes in first, second, third...oh yes, they are certainly creatures of habit and they don’t like change. I’ve also noticed that they seem to lay a little later if the night is cold or wet. But in fairness to the girls, it has to be said they have laid brilliantly so far this winter. They seem to be the only chickens for miles around that have continued to lay. Not sure if they’re supposed to, but we’ve been getting between 5 and 8 eggs a day from 9 laying hens, which would not be bad in the height of summer. And now that the days are slowly getting longer, some of the eggs are huge. No wonder the chickens walk funny! I’d like to think this is because they have plenty of space and freedom and have been topping up their greens and protein intake in the veg garden. They certainly like the sorrel plants, which is surprising as the leaves are as sharp as a lemon.

To keep them healthy, they get a dash of cider vinegar in their water for the first week of every month. They seem to enjoy this liquid and it does seem to keep them in good condition. I wonder if there is a link with the acid content of the sorrel plants too. Anyway, next year I plan to grow them their own patch of favourite plants - sorrel, cabbage, chard, fat hen, as well as a lot of garlic since I’ve heard this is beneficial to their health. Every 6 months though, I like to treat them for internal parasites properly, so yesterday I ordered some Flubenvet for them. This sorts out any problems and their is no withdrawal period from eating the eggs. I am trying the stronger mix, normally reserved for bigger flocks, as it works out a lot cheaper. I just need to measure it carefully.

Carbon Offsetting
I received an e-mail last night to say that a consignment of trees will be delivered today, so that’s my weekend sorted out. 137 treees to plant. I have another order of 400 trees to come this winter, courtesy of Lincolnshire’s Hedgerow and Small Woodland Grant Scheme. This order is for the more ornamental and decorative species - still mostly native. I have small-leaved limes which I hope to coppice and harvest the leaves for salads. They will also eventually contribute greatly to tasty honey from the bees. I have a native edible hedgerow too, which will go along the edge of the forest garden - a mix known as “Elspeth Thompson’s Edible Hedging” - sounds like one of those Victorian quack doctor concoctions. Also a line of poplar trees, for shelter and because they make such a great landscape feature on the flat Fens. Some decorative dogwoods and willows too, which will be harvested for wood and for willow withies to make hurdles and simple baskets. Since each small offcut is easy to grow into a new tree, these may end up on my produce list. Then there’s the larches, pines, spruces and firs which I like to plant for variety. Who knows, maybe one day they’ll attract a coal tit into the garden. These trees will pay for themselves as soon as the first is big enough to be used as a Christmas tree.

Before these trees arrive, I am hoping to move the old haystack inside. The hay is a couple of years old now, so needs to be used, and the polythene covering is ugly and can be reused to cover a couple of compost heaps so they warm up. I have read that a hay mulch is much appreciated by asparagus, so I’ll give that a try too. Oh...and that chicken hutch needs mending.

Bird stuff
The feeders were more active this morning. Lots of house sparrows, chaffinches, blue and great tits in the hedge and at the feeders. On a national scale, the recent high winds have brought a glut of arctic gulls, into the West of the country. Hopefully some of these will gradually start to appear over on our side, so for the next couple of months I shall be paying more attention to the gulls which fly over the farm on their way to and from The Wash every morning and evening. I’d love to have a white-winger (Glaucous or Iceland Gull) on my garden list.