The Woodlander

 

I'm pretty sure that it's hidden in Far From the Madding Crowd but haven't been able to find it. (It's not in The Woodlanders) Our much put-upon heroine goes off with her maid to visit one of the latter's relatives - an 'ingenious man of the woods' who distractingly interests her with the uses to which he can out the materials all around him. Well, I think  I come into the category now. I was putting up my bean sticks but realised that I didn't have enough for the industrial scale I like to engage in. And then I thought of what real old countrymen do instead of buying the neat bundles of bamboo you can get in garden centres. They cut much sturdier and long-lasting poles from hazel trees. That was one of the main purposes of coppicing - along with getting the wherewithal for basket and hurdle making. I had already noted and filed away for possible future use that a couple of my hazels had such suitable growths, and so off I went, wood-saw in hand.

The first Till to do any coppicing for a hundred years perhaps. Maybe 'Uncle Jim' a builder/flint-knapper/gravedigger in Singleton, who died in 1931 did it - who knows ? I got six eight footers, and there still some left on the tree. enough for me now and for next year if needed.  A great sense of historic accomplishment ! Thomas Hardy - and his ladies - would have been pleased.

The wood (- or copse - when does a copse become a wood ? Is there a number of trees ? It's got about 50) is looking completely different from the bleakness of winter. Festooned in shoulder-high cow parsley. Everything out in fresh green leaf  of various sizes.  It looked magical in the evening sun. Easy to imagine fairies flitting through the undergrowth 

Most of the little saplings I planted last Autumn to thicken up the hedges between me and the cruel, cruel world outside have survived  and seemed to be flourishing. This was despite the very cold snap we had which finished off my over-wintering broad beans and all too many flowers of various descriptions. But now all is forgiven and everything looks great. I suppose one has to go with the flow and enjoy what comes. Spectacular Aquilegia this year popping up, unguidedly,  all over the place, even in the paths. A real picture. Interestingly a Amazon driver delivering something last week was most envious of my Birds of Paradise. An expert on the subject apparently, he said 'It would cost you a £150 to get one like that, ' I resolved to take better care of it. 

But of course the best part of the week was a visit by Team Powell. They all tested themselves and were reassuringly normal and stayed inside the house this time  - the first overnighters for a very long while. Despite the grey and threateningly drizzly weather we had a barbecue at the back of the annex which was enjoyed by all. The first day we went for a local trip. First to Redhorn Hill. This is actually a clump of trees up on the north escarpment of Salisbury Plain, which you can see from the garden. There's a well made up by-way from there to Dogtail wood which runs parallel with the fence that surrounds the danger area. Although the vedette for admittance was closed, the red-flag was flying so we couldn't actually go deeper into the plain. Instead we walked along to Dogtail wood and spotted a nice spot for a picnic. We drove there and settled in.  Tremendously wide views to north and south; we couldn't quite make out the house, but certainly got the location. In the middle distance a swarm of bi-planes performed silent aerobatics. The quietness was complete save for the occasional Army jeep and armoured personnel carriers rumbling past on the track above. It was all very atmospheric.

And so in its way was the nearby National Garden Scheme garden in nearby Market Lavington to which we next repaired.  An extraordinary place; allegedly just one acre, though its winding paths and thick vegetation made it seem much more than that. Some great plants certainly but chiefly to be remembered for the great piles if 'rubbish' stacked all over the place. Dismantled greenhouses, piles of wood, great heaps of sacks, bags of gravel. Some large saplings sturdily growing through a purple plastic vegetable container once temporarily dropped by the side of the path, rather provided the clue. This was the achievement of a lifetime. A fascinating visit even if not altogether to our taste. The 'Chiff special shepherd's pie' that evening certainly was, though.

The following day to Bristol and Shelagh, who we found in encouragingly good form, despite her situation. Her garden too was packed with plants, a real refuge from reality for her and for her beloved cats. Again a place hovering on the edge of disorder but with far, far fewer piles of distraction lying around. Just enough though to signify that she's a real gardener ? Not one to vacuum the lawn for a clean and tidy effect. And so to the Botanic Garden,

the amazing Clifton suspension bridge, the expensively trendy village and to the falafel cafe in the middle of Cotham Hill surrounded by hordes of students. It reminded me strongly of our many visits to Granny in her nearby home,  and of course of Cherry's last trip here nearly four years ago now. Hard to believe its actually that much time. .

After a final Chinese take-away enjoyed outside like all our meals at Wansdyke (from choice not necessity), Team Powell departed for their long trip home for a weekend of Martha's dancing classes, Macbeth, revision for Barney's 'mock mocks'  and Chiff's Hockey match. As for me after two days of very special and official  'leave' from Newport it was back to the usual grindstone.....