A dull but mainly fine Saturday. A good friend of mine had given me sixteen hazel plants that had been planted a few years ago as a screen in his partner’s garden. I guess they had grown too big so she had them dug up and was looking for a new home for them. “I  know a man with some woods” he must have said and so they came my way – thanks to Jane. They are quite sturdy plants, though obviously have lost a lot of root but hazel are very resilient, so I am confident that with a bit of TLC they will put down new ones this year and pick up nicely in a year or two. Rather than cut them right down to normal coppice height, I’ve left some of the stems on, about 30 cm in order to preserve some of the latent energy in them which should help them recover. I have a fairly open and bare area with plenty of light where I have recently cut back the dense bramble. I’ve planted ten of them here which should eventually become a nice new hazel coppice area. Three more were planted near my camp area which left three to fill some gaps in the hazel coppice I am working on. Here you can see some of them in the newly planted area.

The three remaining ones needed “heeling in” somewhere until I have prepared a space for them. This is when I discovered the buried treasure. It’s an aluminium plate with words stamped on it. It looks like it came off some sort of truck, probably pre 1950s. I’ve tried Googling the company name but failed to find anything about them. An interesting find for my woodland museum though.

Whilst planting, I noticed how the groundcover plants – mainly wood anemone and bluebells, are lurking just below the surface under the dead leaf litter, ready to burst into life again in a couple of months or so. At first glance, the woods look dead at this time of year but closer inspection shows that far from it being in suspended animation, there are stirrings of new life all over. The hazel trees have new catkins already. It’s with that thought that makes me realise I need to keep busy with the coppicing project. I cut back another very old and large hazel that was partly rotten. It will be interesting to see if it either kills or revitalises it.  I had identified three small to medium sycamore that were in this area that could be felled to open it up to more light. The hazel really needs plenty in order to grown vigorously. The result of felling them leaves this area looking quite denuded but I have the longer term vision in my head, of a lovely vibrant area of fresh green hazel bushes. A haven for wildlife and a small coupe back “in cycle” in a few year time.

Yesterday’s forecast was for a sunny day, so what more could I ask for a day at the woods? As I approached the area, the sun was just about to rise. I had a wide vista of the surrounding flat countryside. There was a thin bank of cloud near the horizon, underlit by the approaching sunrise. The colours reminded me of contents of a watercolour paintbox. The sky,  cadmium yellow fading to lemon then cerulean blue, the clouds wet into wet washed with burnt sienna and alizarin crimson. Wow what a start to the day. As I stepped out of the car into my woods, the sun was just visible though the dense wall of trees.

I started the day with an extra vigilant walk around, checking for windthrow after the gales earlier in the week. Nothing much at all other than the top of a tall sycamore having snapped off and now balancing precariously, ready to kill anything that stands too long under it and a rotten birch tree snapped off five feet from the ground. It wasn’t cold enough to need a fire but I lit one anyway just for the pleasure of it. I made a filter coffee and sat listening to the gentle crackle of some larch twigs on the fire and thinking how lucky I am to be here in this beautiful place. The horrors of the wider world are a million miles from my mind. As Van Morrison said at the end of Coney Island “Wouldn’t it be great if it was like this all the time?”

The agenda for the day was simple, bring more logs home and start coppicing the hazel where I started two years ago. I’ve been really keen to get some done to expand the area of restoration before spring arrives. There are small catkins forming on them and we are half way through January already. I identified a few hazel clumps and started with the smallest. I like to cut them using hand rather than chainsaws. I enjoy the feeling of closeness to nature you get working this way. Cutting a tree down can feel brutal but by taking each hazel stem individually and carefully, working the Silky between the stems, you can savour the process and feel a great deal of satisfaction of a job well done and exonerated from any apparent brutality, paid for with your own physical energy. My method now, is to try to complete the whole process of cutting and clearing any brash away in one session, rather than leaving it for another day. I am still clearing up brash from two years ago when I first started and was keen to get as many stumps cut back before Spring.

The two photos are before and after of two small hazels. They are quite weak and may not come back with great vigour but they had a few small whippy rods which I have left and will try to layer by pegging down to get them to root and eventually make new plants. One of the larger hazel stools had an exceptionally tall and thick stem that didn’t look right for hazel. On cutting it down I realised it was a young oak. It’s growing out of the earth at the same place as the hazel. Oak will also coppice so I will be interested to see what happens this summer.

Another filter coffee and a jam doughnut kindly provided by my neighbour, rounded the morning off nicely. The afternoon was spent in the coppice and I managed to deal with five stumps in all. Dragging the brash and piling it into the deadhedge I built, aroused the interest of a robin. Throughout the day, it followed me here and there like a tiny avian supervisor. The opportunity of an easy worm-meal might have been the real reason. It was a welcome companion that just added a little more pleasure to the whole day. Can’t wait to get back  for another session. This one next.

Another fantastic weather day at the woods yesterday. I arrived at a crispy-frosty woodland just around sunrise. The bird feeders were empty and there were signs of squirrel activity, trying to prise the lid off the peanut feeder. I have it securely fixed with wire but that doesn’t stop them trying to bend the metal to get into the nuts. My remit for the day was to cut and chop some 2 year old logs that I just haven’t got around to yet. Clear up the brash where the hazel coppice is and maybe do some more coppicing. As usual I didn’t achieve all my aims. I concentrated on chopping the old logs which were damp and starting to rot. No good for the woodburner at home s0 I decided to store them in my two campfire shelters to be drying out for using there. It’s a nice luxury to have dry fuel stored and ready to use when having a campfire, rather than spending time foraging for it. Nothing much else to report except “The Visitor”

What was the surprise visitor? Ten out of ten if to said Harris Hawk. One of my neighbours was walking the ride with it. I knew he was a falconer and brought birds to the woods but hadn’t seen them here before. It was such a thrill to see this magnificent hunter flying free and landing in my trees. They are not native to the UK but originate from the USA and are at home in woodlands. I was lucky to have a couple of falconry days at centres and have flown two of these. One of the most exciting things I have ever done. We walked my woods and the hawk followed us from tree to tree, often unseen to my eyes. We headed towards the neighbour’s wood to see his Gyr Lanner falcon but stopped half way down the ride. The Harris Hawk was a good two hundred meters behind us when he put a rat’s head on his fist and called the bird. He appeared as if from nowhere and flew straight down the ride, landing gracefully on the falconer’s arm. A truly exciting exeperience.