Woodsman

by Ben Law

  Rowan (Sorbus aucuparia) is abundant throughout Prickly Nut Wood. It thrives on the damp acid soils and readily seeds itself. It grows to a good size, coppices well, and I have used the smaller thin stems to make rustic baskets and the odd walking stick. One characteristic of rowan I have observed is its unusual biological timing. It is often in flower and forming fruit before many other trees have broken leaf; likewise, it is usually the first to shed its leaves in the autumn. I make a wine from the berries and sometimes a jelly, which makes a fine addition to pigeon breast or venison.

  There are a few established crab apples (Malus sylvestris) at Prickly Nut Wood and I have coppiced one of these in the cant of mixed coppice I am cutting. This produces good hardwood for mallets and a fine scented timber for burning on a Christmas fire.

  One or two wild service trees (Sorbus torminalis) appear amongst the coppice. These do not coppice and re-shoot from the stool. Instead, like cherry, they sucker from along the roots. The wood is popular in France for musical-instrument making, but I have never cut one down. I like them to grow on and produce the berries, which, when bletted in autumn, are a delicious fruit and our native alternative to the grape – awkward to pick, but worth the effort. Like apples, the seeds contain cyanide, so remember to spit them out! With its small, maple-shaped leaves, the wild service turns a rich coppery red in autumn and fully complements the mixed colours of the broadleaf woodland.

  One of the questions I am most often asked is about native species of tree versus exotic species, and whether we should only plant native. This is a complex question and, as with all questions regarding woodlands, we need to look at each woodland individually, assess it, and make a decision based upon that assessment.

  Prickly Nut Wood is an ancient, semi-natural woodland and a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI), although the dominant tree species, sweet chestnut, is actually an exotic brought in by the Romans. Chestnut has been in the UK for so long that it is often considered an honorary native, but I imagine for purists, a native tree is one that has grown in these islands since the end of the last ice age and has not been introduced by human beings. There are only 32 species of tree that satisfy these conditions.

  Indeed, there are so many useful exotics that have been introduced over the last couple of hundred years, it would be hard to imagine not finding a place for them in our woodlands. Taking this into account, my thoughts are that I would first assess the woodland and see which species are already there. If it is an ancient woodland with a diverse native flora, then it is best not to add exotics. However, we have to be aware that if our climate continues to warm then the flora of our ancient woodlands will change, whether we do anything or not.

  Take Bradfield Woods, with its wonderfully diverse ground flora. A rise in temperature could see many of these species migrating north to a cooler climate and more exotic species creeping in. If we can predict that the climate is going to get warmer and we are planting up new woodlands, then it certainly would be sensible to look at useful species that will grow well for the next generation in a slightly warmer climate. For suitable species for new woodland planting, I would be considering timber- and food-producing species, so I can envisage a potentially different emerging woodscape of mixed-species woodlands and agro-forestry systems designed for our anticipated needs in the future.

  If we consider the south-east region where I am based, a rise in temperature would most likely see species such as beech moving northwards; even oaks might be on the edge of their climatic comfort zone. I have noticed an increase in the defoliation of oak trees, predominantly from caterpillar attack, and can only conclude that rising temperatures have improved conditions for caterpillars whilst increasing stress in oaks, making them vulnerable to such attacks. Sweet chestnut, because it originates in a Mediterranean climate, should thrive in any warming of the climate that occurs, provided that it is not attacked by blight or Phytophthora, which are causing such devastation to trees in the south-west of England such as Japanese larch. Sweet chestnut has natural durability and produces timber not dissimilar in quality to oak, but has the advantages of being faster-growing and producing a wonderful crop of edible nuts. I see sweet chestnut as an important timber tree in the south of England for the foreseeable future.

  Another tree I would like to see more of in future plantings is the black locust (Robinia pseudoacacia). This species produces a very durable timber – again with similarities to oak – but, like alder, it also fixes nitrogen, so it could be a useful tree in mixed plantations. It coppices, suckers, and also produces flowers that are a good source of nectar for the bees. Its disadvantages are that it does not tend to grow very straight, has thorns and can be invasive, although I believe its invasive tendencies could be kept in check by the regular harvesting of poles.

  An exotic tree I would recommend for damp conditions is the swamp cypress (Taxodium distichum). This species thrives in wet conditions and, being a deciduous conifer like larch, it loses its needles in the autumn, allowing the ground flora to survive beneath it. Swamp cypress produces a durable timber that is suitable for construction, and I can see no other tree that we currently grow in wetland areas that possesses that property. Willows and alders love damp conditions but neither are durable. One interesting silvicultural experiment would be to plant swamp cypress using alder as a nitrogen-fixing nurse crop. The fast-growing alder should help draw up the swamp cypress, producing good-quality construction poles and timber from the latter. This type of planting would ensure some of our poorer wet landscapes would produce useful timber to help meet the construction needs of future generations.

  When choosing suitable trees that will thrive in our changing climate, we also need to be sure that the end product – the timber – will be of use to future generations. We should therefore be choosing species that have natural durability and strength. Douglas fir, European larch, Lawson cypress and Western red cedar are all species that fit this category, and if we were to plant them we would be leaving a heritage of trees useful for construction to future generations. Sweet chestnut, walnut, ash, black locust and hazel could form a useful selection of broadleaved trees that would leave future generations with a variety of timber for a multitude of purposes.

  There is little doubt that our woodscape will change. It was not that many years ago that elm was a dominant forestry tree across our landscape, but now, with the exception of the streets and parks of Brighton, it is only noticeable as a hedgerow tree that dies back again once it reaches about six inches in diameter, as Dutch elm disease strikes again. The warming of our climate will gradually change our woodland species, with some trees and plants migrating north, while others will arrive from the continent. These changes will be gradual, but it is important that we act now and begin to plant useful species for future generations.

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  I believe agro-forestry will have a more important role to play in the future. Combined land-use systems, based on the principles of permaculture design, can create farms and landscapes that recycle nutrients and energy within farm systems, leaving healthier soils with established crops for the next generation to inherit. A large number of our current vast arable farms will leave little but barren fields devoid of much of their topsoil and dependent on massive inputs of fertiliser to grow the next crop. Leaving a landscape in such poor condition is detrimental to the health of generations to come, and the process of replenishing soil fertility needs to begin now if we are not to leave a poisoned chalice for those to come.

  Agro-forestry systems can take many forms. Silvi-pastoral systems, such as those I have established on some farms near Prickly Nut Wood, are a traditional system of fruit trees grown as standards above a diverse grassland that is grazed by sheep or geese and other poultry. These systems produce a joint yield from the different components, and are labour-intensive if run well. I see the need for more labour as a benefit, as I believe future generations will be glad to find more work on the land. Growing food in this country will bec
ome the essential industry it once was. It was an arrogant colonial policy in the Victorian era that we felt it was no longer necessary to grow all of our own food in the UK, and that imported foods were cheaper and would help to sustain us. Without aviation fuel, how are we going to fly beans in from Kenya? Other agro-forestry systems will involve nut trees over arable crops, and light shade-casting trees such as ash (or birch, if ash proves impossible to grow as a result of ash dieback) are likely to be seen more often, grown as firewood avenues between vegetable and cereal crops. Martin Crawford’s work at the agro-forestry research trust in Devon gives us a real insight into the varieties of nut trees that will grow well in the future. The heartnuts (Juglans ailantifolia var. cordiformis) Martin is growing are particularly impressive. They might offer better yields in the future and be grown successfully on a wider range of soils than more traditional walnut varieties.

  I anticipate future generations will be less wasteful with wild animals, and especially those that predate upon crops, than our generation has been. We cannot separate growing nuts without controlling squirrels. The two are intrinsically linked, just as rabbits need to be kept out of vegetable crops and deer out of coppices. Any cultivation of nuts will involve the controlling – and eating – of grey squirrels. Future generations are likely to inherit a good population of wild boar. The numbers have been growing steadily over the past ten years and in another thirty years I anticipate them being a regular feature in the woodscape. A valuable source of food, they will need sustainable cropping to keep numbers in balance and supply boar for the table.

  Another meat I anticipate future generations to eat is horse. I ate horse once in Norway and it had a fine flavour. Much of the grassland that surrounds me in West Sussex is managed purely for horses. Only in rare cases do any of these useful draught animals actually pull a cart or plough a furrow. Most of them are pleasure horses and, particularly around Prickly Nut Wood, there are acres of good productive land given over to polo ponies. I have nothing against polo as a game, but we cannot sustain such a vast number of ponies purely for our sporting indulgence on land that should be used for growing food or timber. I anticipate the decline of polo ponies running in parallel with the decline in the availability of petrol and diesel, and expect during my lifetime to be eating a polo pony or two.

  One area where agro-forestry can play an important role is in towns and cities. For too long we have avoided planting fruit- and nut-producing trees as street trees because of our concern about fruit staining the paintwork of cars. It is time to re-prioritise what is important, and the time for choosing tree species to suit the habitat of the motor car is over. Avenues of sweet chestnut, walnut, pecan, almond, cherry, plum, pear and apple trees should become the future of our streets. Tree crops are perennial; once established, fruit and nut trees will produce well with little maintenance and most are able to cope with drought conditions. Imagine a city in which children can forage on the way to school. The use of agro-forestry could expand into parks and wastelands. The more trees we can plant in and around cities, the cleaner the air will be and the more pleasant they will be to live in. If we choose fruit and nut trees, the volume of perennial food grown in and around the city will greatly increase. Fruit and nut trees are good sources of nectar for bees and, in turn, the bees’ pollination ensures good crops of fruit, so the expansion of rooftop beehives and more urban honey would be another benefit if these species were planted.

  The resurgence in allotments and the desire to grow food again are truly positive aspects of our realisation of the need to engage with the land and begin to re-establish local systems of food and resources. We know that in times of extreme measures we are able as a people to respond to a crisis, as the ‘Dig for Victory’ campaign showed during the Second World War. However, we should not be waiting for a crisis to arrive. We should be putting in place the mechanism and plans to create sustainable systems for the next generation. Cities can utilise not just the streets and wastelands but also the vast acreage of vertical space for growing food, as well as rooftops. Food-production systems on vertical walls and rooftops should become part of the design of any new urban buildings.

  Large-scale projects for resource management should be put in place, such as the management of land alongside our vast network of railway lines, to produce coppiced timber for fuel and power, and utilising the railway network to transport this timber would be a sensible use of resources.

  One major change I expect to see is a move back towards more physical labour. We have a large population, and many people need work. Land-based work is physical, and generally keeps people fit and in good health. The last 100 years have seen an oil-based economy in which machines have replaced people. But as oil becomes increasingly scarce and its price increases, people will have to begin to replace machines. I expect to see more community and cooperative groups managing both woodlands and agricultural land. Community-supported agricultural systems (CSA), in which people offer their labour and become involved in growing food on farms, in return being rewarded with agricultural produce, is a model that is likely to catch on and spread. Similarly, community-supported forestry (CSF), in which people trade their labour in a forest project for logs, bean poles or timber, would be a good model to further explore.

  At Prickly Nut Wood, I run my apprenticeship scheme on similar lines. Apprentices trade their unskilled labour in return for training, accommodation and basic food. As their skill level increases, they receive payment for specific jobs. This may be in timber or in money. After about nine months to a year they are ready to head out and manage a woodland themselves. They then begin to regenerate other coppices and supply more timber products into their local market.

  There are many good training courses provided by agricultural colleges, but nothing can replace practical placement within the land-based industries themselves. One of the difficulties for young people setting themselves up in forestry and agriculture is the cost of acquiring land – and, even more, the cost of accommodation. The coppice worker or vegetable grower is unlikely to earn enough in their enterprise to pay for the rental of an expensive rural cottage. The need for low-impact housing solutions for those working on the land has never been clearer. Rural areas need local workers producing food and resources, yet many of our farms have been separated from the farmbuilding infrastructure that they need in order to operate effectively. Prickly Nut Wood and the adjacent woodlands I manage would once have been part of Snapelands Farm. The barns at Snapelands would have been available for the processing of coppice produce and the storage of logs and materials. With the barns having been converted into dwellings and the majority of the land separated from the original farmhouse, I am left to run a woodland business without any infrastructure to manage the resource. Hence I have needed to build a house, barn and sheds to re-establish a woodland farm, a central hub to my working life and business that ensures the woodlands and associated management have a future. All over the countryside barn conversions are causing similar problems. As a barn is sold off and converted, the land is left without the infrastructure needed for its management. The next person to farm the land will no doubt need to build a barn. This is another area in which good planning guidance would encourage young people to live and work on the land. The current planning policies make it very difficult to achieve such aims.

  Our woodlands are going to change over the next generation, as a result of climate change, disease, and the human need to plant and utilise the resources we need. Forestry is likely to become less mechanised and the amount of human labour used will increase, in both community groups and the private sector. It is our responsibility to honour these changes, putting in place the necessary woodland infrastructure and species choice for the next generation to thrive.

  I take the familiar walk up the steps to join the old bridleway and head south through the rusty metallic gate towards Redlands Farm. I remember the farm as a dairy farm, but like many of the estate farms it was divided up after the oi
l crisis as part of the land-reform policy, and is now a number of smaller holdings. I walk through the farmyard and pass the redundant slurry tank. The field in the valley towards Smithbrook is now full of timber-frame caravans. I started making them for the national park back in 2013 and they really caught on. Their visual appearance – and the fact that they utilised local resources and labour to create a needed product – made them desirable objects. When Lodsworth became one of the re-settlement villages we built sixty of them, and they make a pretty picture, rather like an overgrown allotment whose sheds have expanded into wooden caravans with gardens all around them. Re-settlement villages provide temporary homes for those making the transition from urban to rural life. Most individuals or families are expected to stay a year or two before moving out to some of the new holdings that were drawn up after the land divisions, but there are a few like Tom and Angie who have been here longer. I hope they will be able to take on some land in the parish, and it would be a shame to see them go, as they are so much part of village life now.

  I pass the old walnut tree in the field corner. I remember when I knew the few producing trees in the parish. Now there are a few hundred walnuts and heartnuts. We did well here, getting so many fruit and nut trees planted before the oil crisis occurred. I take the track up past Bailey’s yard to the power station.

  The wood-fuelled power station was installed in 2017 and was one of a number of pilot small-scale power stations set up across the national park. It powers the village and often has surplus energy, but it takes a lot of organisation and labour to keep it going. The woodlands around Prickly Nut Wood and beyond easily supply enough timber, but the speed of cutting is slow. I cut most of the timber by hand now, double-handed cross-cut saws for the larger trees, and bow-saws and axes for the smaller ones. I have an electric chainsaw that is still working well, which I run off the solar panels when I do the cross-cutting. My battery chainsaws have long since worn out. Lithium is no longer obtainable, and sourcing the parts for the majority of my power tools is a thankless task. Many are no longer available.