Lakeside Logging at Norton Conyers - January 2019

January 31st

-7.5 Celsius as I passed Nunwick on the way to Norton Conyers. It is the morning of the 31st of January and the coldest night of the season has been endured across the country. The bitter temperatures have bitten throughout much of the month, but the January weather concluded with a numbing vengeance. I walked around the outside of the gardens - senses heightened with the sub-zero temperatures amplifying the eerie silence. Every leaf, twig and blade of grass fixed and fragile in a coarse, crisp shell.

Frosted Garden Gates, 31st January 2019

8.30am

1.15pm

January 3rd

The year had started without frost. Giles and I began 2019 by removing the remainder of the apple tree Malus 'Beauty of Bath' which had been cut down before Christmas. Snowdrops (Galanthus) were beginning to emerge around the tree trunk, and these were lifted before digging up the earth. With axe and chainsaw, thick roots were cut. With rope attached, the tractor was used to pull and twist it out of the earth.

The chainsaw was used once again by Giles and the trunk broken into logs. The earth was replaced - extra compost added and Snowdrops carefully replanted. The job was completed - leaving barely any trace of the 50-year-old tree which once stood. The 'Egremont Russet' planted in close proximity now had space to grow and flourish.

Into the Woods

Next - into the woods. The initial stretch of the pathway was cleared, and habitat piles tidied and consolidated. We then ambled towards the lake, with tools in hand. The area surrounding the lake had been untended for years and it would be a significant undertaking to cut back foliage and retrieve fallen trees from the water. We would spend much of our January days working by the lake.

Starting on the south bank, overhanging branches, brambles and bamboo were cut back, gradually revealing an enhanced view across the lake. I was then employed to cut climbing Ivy (Hedera Helix) on trees to prevent them from being weighed down. I remarked at the woody stalks of the Ivy - some of which were thick enough to be small trees themselves.

Ivy (Hedera Helix)

As we made our way around the lake, we came across a headstone - for a horse. A small pet cemetery also exists in the woodland near the house and - as I later discovered - across the lake.

Luxury
A Chestnut Gelding
Died 18th July 1918
Aged 16 Years
A Celebrated Hunter
& Jumper First in the
Kings Cup at Olympia
1907 & 1908
Malise Graham

The Emergence of Life

As the month progressed, subtle glimmers of colour emerged. Most prominently, vibrant strands of lemon and lime sprung from a beautiful Witch Hazel (Hamemelis) to the east of the Orangery. The Hamemelis has a sense of gentle, graceful movement about it - the flowing flowers like the tentacles of a sea anemone. In the dull January light, the Witch Hazel seems to emit its own source of light and bears a delicate scent which belies the season. 

 Witch Hazel (Hamamelis)

But, the reality is that new life is all around us even at the dullest, darkest time of year. Knowing where to look for it is the key. As we walked towards the western garden door, Beth spotted a Hepatica in the undergrowth - it is a small, violet flower of the buttercup family. There is something very special about these small glimmers of fresh colour - a clear display of thriving life and a promise of new life to come.

Hepatica

Lakeside

The lakeside clear-up continued. A Willow (Salix) lay in the water - parts completely submerged and sitting in thick mud. Removing it was a real challenge. Loppers were used to remove branches, before a rope was tied. The tractor was then employed to wrench the tree out of the lake. But there was not enough room for manoeuvre and insufficient leverage; I drove the tractor around the perimeter of the lake and into an adjoining field, stopping behind my previous location.

The tractor wheels slipped and struggled to gain traction as it heaved, and Giles climbed onto the trailer for extra ballast! And after moving onto fresh ground the remainder of the tree emerged from the water. The mud in which it had been buried was very smelly; moving it into habitat piles was an unpleasant business!

Willow (Saxis)

The lake was starting to reveal itself and its true beauty. As the month progressed, bright blue skies created stunning reflections in the water.

In mid-January, Giles cut up a recently felled cherry tree and this was transported to the woodyard using the dumper truck - a huge undertaking, which unfortunately took its toll on the old machine. A section of the bodywork came loose, which required welding. But once Giles had attended to it, the dumper truck continued to fill the woodyard throughout the month, and the last day of January consisted of felling and logging an established Ash tree (Fraxinus).

Hopeful Plum at lunchtime

Hopeful Shandy at lunchtime

Snowdrops

The snowdrops quickly grew and filled out throughout the month - the budding flowers gradually appearing plump and heavy. They are a welcome sight across the estate, adding patches of winter joy to the barren earth.

Snowdrops (Galanthus)

Keepers Cottage

Towards the end of the month, we made our way down the lane to Keepers Cottage. Earlier in the month I had ventured in this direction before starting work; I had seen six herons in one field and four roe deer in another - all at the same time!

Work was needed in the garden of the Keepers Cottage, and foliage needed clearing. Derek, Emma and I had the unenviable task of removing a very hardy Philadelphus (Mock Orange), which was obscuring the view from the kitchen. The Philadelphus grows small bowl-shaped white flowers in the summer, with orange centres. However, when removing this shrub from the earth, it was difficult to imagine that it was capable of growing such delicate flowers. It took a great deal of digging, axing and leveraging to remove the base of it from the ground.

Derek attacking the remains of the Philadelphus

With vast quantities of Ivy removed from brickwork, and last-years growth cut back, we left the Keepers Cottage. Giles and I would return on the next working day to remove an aging conifer and unhealthy plum tree (which was also obstructing a window). Both of these were easily removed with spade and tractor.

Cold Shandy huddling into one of the gardener's lunches to keep warm!!

Ivy

We were all exasperated with Ivy towards the end of the month; cutting it back from walls and trees had kept us occupied for days around the lake and in the wider estate. We spent much time clearing in the woodland to the north of the house and at Wath Lodge which is 3/4 of a mile away. But this is necessary to prevent it from 'taking over' and causing damage.

January

January 2019 - a cold, yet physical and incredibly satisfying month. It was a pleasant surprise to see the subtle beauty in nature at this time of year, but also a delight to enjoy the clean, glimmering frosts and low, rolling mists which provided atmospheric backdrops. However, it was also a month in which I witnessed some of the most dramatic, beautiful skies I have ever seen - a selection of which I now end with.

Digging for Norton! Norton Conyers, 22nd March 2018

Spring has seen more than its fair share of false starts this year. I suppose it usually does, but then this year, there have been several heavy snow showers - interjected by mild sunshine - in March!! However, as I drove up to Norton Conyers today, I recognised a difference in the tone of the sky that suggested that this was Spring sunshine. Blue skies in winter tend to be slightly paler and cloudless, and the light offered by the Spring sky is unmistakable.

As we greeted each other this morning, the mood was cheerful and relaxed - all of us commenting on the lovely weather, and what a difference it would make to the day's work. It is true: good, mild weather is liberating for the gardener. Less layers to worry about; your whole body is more relaxed; there is no dread - or danger - of getting soaked to the skin before you've done half an hours' work.

Wheelbarrows, spades and forks were needed for our first task. Alyson and I hauled multiple full barrows of compost from the heap, and spread it generously over a huge, empty border. We had soon emptied the compost bin; quite a feat, having seen the quantity in the pile at the start of the day!

As she plunged her spade into the compacted earth, Alyson told me of the toads that had made the compost heap their habitat in years gone by. There were none today though!

The improved weather was good news for the garden's flora; the warmth had brought a few bees out of their slumber. We had been planning to aid the pollination process the previous week, but in the absence of a suitable brush hadn't been able to do so. Giles commented "Perhaps we won't have to use Shandy's tail after all!" Nevertheless, he thought the bees would still need some help, so in the afternoon volunteer Sue borrowed a brush from resident artist David and went about pollinating the peach stamens.

Next, Alyson and I dug up shrubs in the adjoining bed. They had spread, leaving the middle of the plants dead. Splitting the plants would rejuvenate them, and help them to thrive. A layer of compost was turned into the earth, before replanting. We then weaved supports - like inverted baskets. They were very attractive in their own right.

The afternoon: more digging. In the vegetable patch, 'Green Manure' had been planted to act as a natural fertiliser; in order for it to do this, the row had to be dug up. I began to tire - the cumulative physical effort was beginning taking its toll on my back. However, I finished the job, turning over the plants and digging them back in.

Giles had ventured out to collect timber planks earlier on in the day. Transporting these across the garden was the penultimate physical effort of the day. Giles and I carried them - around 30 - from the middle garden gate to the vegetable garden. We placed them approximately where they would be finally installed for the raised beds.

I finished the day digging up exhausted lettuce plants; the massive roots were heavy. I wheeled them over to the compost heap, and the cycle of decay and growth continued.

Although I felt physically exhausted, the mental effect was invigorating. This had been another extremely productive day, and we had all worked very hard to make this substantial progress. 

Sheep Wrestling at Norton Conyers! 12th March 2018

Today was wet. The rain fell relentlessly, unceasingly. And it was cold too. For the first time I felt a pang of regret at choosing a career in the outdoors.

I let out a sigh as I zipped up my jacket, lifted  my hood and ventured out to face up to this miserable day.

I drove along the Wath road - less of a road, more of a lake patched with tarmac - and the water sprayed up above my windscreen.

The snowdrops to the West side of the house lay jewelled with shimmering droplets and the daffodils were beginning to unfurl their sunshine - much needed on a day like today.

As we dropped off our belongings, the mood was that of dread. We looked to Giles - where would we be working today?!

Giles must have seen the desperation and pleading in our eyes, and taken pity on us; we were to give the garden's benches their annual linseed oil treatment in the Bothy. We were all delighted at this news - the mere prospect of working indoors was quite exciting; it didn't really matter what we would be doing!

As I opened the door to the bothy for the first time, a dead Woodland Jumping Mouse (Napaeozapus insignis) was revealed in the entrance on the gravelled floor. Plum hadn't found it - yet. It could have been sleeping - such was its almost perfect, clean fur. Bex picked the poor dead creature up and buried it.

A roll of steel wool was gathered, along with a bottle of linseed oil and a few rags. The benches were positioned in the dull bothy, and we split into pairs. Balls of rough, crunchy steel wool were rolled and scraped along the wooden surfaces, removing debris and damp grime. 

Next, the two groups battled for one bottle of Linseed oil - its sweet and fragrant aroma quickly filling the bothy. Oil was rubbed into every crevice, before the bench was turned over and the process repeated. Leather wasn't a good choice of glove for this task; they quickly absorb oil, so the yellow material quickly turned black.

And, so the benches would be fit for another year in the British weather.

I headed towards the apple store next to treat the garden tools. A knife was needed to scrape of layers of dried mud and soil, peeling back the layers of different days in gardens.

The oil was applied, and also to the metal ends. They looked sharp, new and shiny - pieces of equipment to be proud of.

However, before my work was done, Alan arrived, and set to work dismantling the greenhouse outside the apple store. I would be needed to help him with this process.  A ratchet was used - quickly

whipping out nuts and bolts and the frame was soon dismantled - going into storage for the time being, with potential for relocation in the future.

We returned to the Orangery for our tea break, which was welcome in this cold, saturated atmosphere. I warmed my hands on my cup and let my jacket drip-dry on the back of a metal frame. Following a rest and a chat, Giles lead the way into the adjoining peach house. The peaches were beginning to blossom, and a robin sat on the branches, before darting away. 

In the absence of the helpful bees in the cold weather, we would soon need to pollinate the peaches ourselves.

The gooseberry bushes still needed pruning. We had started the previous week, and it was a job none of us particularly looked forward to. The thorns are sharp, hard and abundant - spiking straight through gardening gloves and into tender skin. The job was huge - it took three of us two and a half hours to complete, wheeling barrow loads through to the woods.

Gooseberry Bushes

After lunchtime, Alyson was recruited by Giles to start a fire in the old tennis courts outside the garden walls. They were built in the 1950s, but have seen decline over the last 30 to 40 years. It is now a useful area, which I believe was cleared at the beginning of this year. A well-contained space, it was perfect for a fire.

The fuel, and reason for the fire? Junk wood from the stables. Giles was in 'clearout mode.' It's fantastic to see a space being transformed, but also to bear witness to snapshots of peoples' lives; objects were left in the stables by individuals - most of whom would now certainly be dead. Bex drove the tractor - full of wood and earthy detritus, along the edge of the walled gardens. I followed with an old, broken ladder on my shoulder.

The fire burned - with pallets, table legs, broken boxes, ladders, earth - and Beth and I soon returned to the courtyard - I hitched a ride on the back!

After ridding the stables of the main debris, we looked around to see what else we could find. Old turpentine and linseed oil bottles; fire buckets; a beautiful page from a 'His Master's Voice' calendar from Harrogate; chains; small tools and bits of metal - all would have had their place and use in days gone by. Recovered items from the stables were later arranged in the bothy. 

Items recovered from the stables

I took a barrow of junk metal to the yard, and on my return popped in to see Walter's horse. She is a smashing, noble creature. Tame and faithful. We rubbed our heads together and I stroked her warm velvet nose. 

Shortly after this, Giles received a call from the house; Sir James had spotted a sheep in the grounds! We ventured towards the front of the house - it stood, proud of itself in the distance. It kept this distance as we advanced; I soon realised that pace was needed. I marched forwards - beyond the house and through the woods, gathering speed as I went. The sheep disappeared. I ran in its direction, hoping that I would lead it towards a break in the fence. Sadly this was not to be the case. 

I caught up with the sheep on the edge of the estate. It was skittish and lively - they are fast creatures! Thankfully I was faster, and had more stamina. I wouldn't catch it - I would exhaust it. After cornering the creature two or three times (it scarpered on all occasions), it soon began to tire (and so did I). As we darted from side to side, the creature finally realised it could not escape; it fell to its knees, in white flag surrender. I held it down and waited for backup. The sheep was huge - a heavy mass of matted cloud.

Giles, Beth and Bex arrived, and two of us lifted the sheep into our arms, before heaving it to the fence. It took three of us to lift the massive creature over the barbed wire and back into its pasture. The sheep ran off in pure joy and relief, bleating merrily to its grateful family.

We all wondered how it had managed to get into the grounds at all!!

We made our way back to the gardens - myself quite exhausted from the exertion. Giles pointed out the huge ice store on the edge of the estate. As I approached it, I was given no sense as to its sheer depth - a huge bricked wall inserted into the earth - an echo of unrefrigerated times.

Giles pointed out a 200 year old Sycamore tree on our way back, explaining- "It may still live for another 30, 40 years" he said. He also showed us a badger village, which lay along this route - multitudes of setts raised above the earth.

Sycamore tree

A Pet Graveyard lay nearer the house , with 19th Century pets being given particular prevalence. "Tiger, Died 15th June 1896, Aged 4 Years" "Nigel J.S. Graham" was the inscription.

And so, as another day drew to a close, I could again be thankful for the sheer variety of the work that I was undertaking.  The girls went home; I stayed with Giles and pressure washed the pond. The moss flew into the air, and the dirt removed itself from the sides of the pond begrudgingly. It cleaned up nicely - even if it does need resealing later this year!

I returned to my car wet, muddy and hungry, but with a deep sense of satisfaction in my heart.

This was another varied day, but I never thought I'd be a professional sheep wrestler!!