Category Archives: trees

farming, Health and safety, Hill Farming, trees, Wales

Lumberjack’s assistants ride again!

We’re still reeling from the gales of the last several months; tidying up what we can.

But some things are beyond us; we need a Lumberjack; Tree surgeon Barry and we are juniors again!

Here’s the pared down problem. Half a ton (maybe more) of oak suspended precariously over a broken fence, through which the sheep have already escaped. They were oblivious to the danger — we were not. They have been retrieved and taken to a place of safety.

Here’s Barry putting on his harness. He assesses the situation.

Up he goes.

Would I like to have a go? Well actually yes I would! He doesn’t ask again.

Suspended from much higher, he dangles, assessing the problem; it’s all a question of balance, most things are.

All tidied up, Bill and I hauled the lumber down to the barn in the trusty trailer with the surprisingly co-operative quad bike, since the war in Ukraine it prefers to be called an ATV. No one was shot.

I chauffeured the surgeon to his next case in the truck. As I didn’t have my reading glasses, Barry worked the 4-wheel drive gear stick — I did the rest and felt like a rally driver.

Here’s the next challenge, Bill risk- assessing. He knows this slippery and grumpy character — the tree, that is, that made us call for help in the first place. Fortunately when bucked off this bough Bill rolled like a parachutist avoiding major injury!

With consummate skill the mixed hazel and hawthorn is coaxed from the arms of it’s neighbour and no one is injured this time.

Tree Surgeon in repose — taking well earned refreshment.

Thanks Barry

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trees

Historic Trees

This cedar at Charlecote seemed particularly monumental, then I read about these trees in Mary Elizabeth Lucy’s autobiography. She lived there from 1823. The beauty of trees is that they have long memories.

and can remind you of days gone by. Like this chestnut tree at Hever Castle, home of Anne Bolyne

What tales it could tell; Henry VIII, cavorting in its shadow, but it is discrete, it looks away and stays mum, a survivor.

Here’s another survivor; a chestnut at Ightham mote, in Kent. You can tell its a sweet chestnut, even in winter, by its spiraling bark.

Here’s a relative youngster, not Bill, he’s there for scale — another chestnut, this time at Upton House. The heritage trees at National Trust Properties can be huge but don’t get the attention from visitors that they deserve. It’s usually on the way home that I wish I had brought my tape measure to record their girth and try to work out their age.

Monterey pines at Plas Newydd on the Anglesey bank of the Menai strait, only about the same age of me, but beautifully lopped by the tree surgeons of the National Trust, to grow straight and tall and strong.

So few of our trees have the room to reach their full potential — or our hedges, for that matter!

Here’s a hedge with attitude. Yew hedge at Powys Castle.

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Natural Beauty, Nature Photography, trees

Relax in the Woods — it may never happen!

The hill above the house.
Anyone for angina?

An escape from the stresses of the week, here and in the States — I wish I could send you all the crispness of the air and the scent of the woods.

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trees

An afterthought on my Oak post and a Plea

Welsh Oak is said to be taller and more upward stretching.

Welsh oak at home — tall and proud.

The English Oak is said to be broader and spreads more.

However, how the tree grows has a lot to do with the density of its planting. A single tree in the middle of a field will stretch out sideways, its fellow in a dense wood with shoot up (slowly) to find the light!

My friend Sue’s favourite oak — it lives in Wales but certainly spreads like an English Oak!

Large, old, spreading oaks have a tendency to split their crowns, so heavy are their outward stretched arms so they have evolved to rest their lower branches on the ground. This can annoy some gardeners who worry that the weight of these will actually cause the crown to split and they are tempted to cut them off, often also in the name of aesthetics, tidiness and ease of mowing.

The head-gardener at Cholmondeley Castle knows how to treat his charges — this wonderful old fellow is starting to rest more of its weight on its elbows.

Taking the strain off its old heart and supporting its crown.

Another bugbear of mine is ploughing around oaks — those wonderful freestanding old trees in the middle of fields of wheat, oilseed rape or pasture — it is sad to see them stunted and struggling in areas where farmers plough right up to the trunks, disrupting the superficial rootlets and associated fungal hyphae. Farmers who understand their trees leave a good wide area around them undisturbed and you can see the difference.

These great solitary oaks can live for hundreds of years, providing homes for all sorts of creatures and shade for stock — they are worth nurturing!

Old Oaks in Suffolk
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