This is the edge of a small wood taking up half the area of a high and dry safe field alongside Wilden Lane. When in residence, the cattle spend their nights sheltering in the wood and their days grazing out in the open. This is also the field in which the cows and calves are placed when they are ill, and where they are TB tested. A vicious wind blows from the west through the wood, and across the open grazing area… Read More
Still can’t get to the river bank to finish that bit of willow coppicing.
Mike Averill, Bill Foxall and myself busied ourselves, today, pollarding old, knarly, bent, twisted, and wood worm infested willow trees that have many holes, nooks, crannies, and splits in their trunks. I mentioned a couple of times my surprise at not having encountered wasp or hornet nests, only to find that I was sitting on top of one. All the tree rocking, banging and falling of many long branches, failed to worry the wasps; they continued flying in and out of… Read More
Sunrise: 08.02 Sunset: 03.57
Sunrise: 07.55 Sunset: 04.00 At the southern end of the marsh, close to the main entrance, are perhaps a dozen very old gnarled and twisted willow pollards – reminding me of Lowry’s stick men and women bent by the ravages of time and long, long struggle in dark satanic mills. I don’t know how old our living willow sculptures are, but pollarding can help a tree live for more than a thousand years. These… Read More