The willow saga ends…
Last Friday, while bottling of tomatoes and peaches begun in the kitchen, I repaired to the garden for the final push on the willow hedge. The last section of the hedge was going to be particularly tricky since it was all squashed behind our fruit cage, and right where chickens like to investigate, unaware of the dangers of saws, falling branches and being trodden on by your truly. Ignorance maybe bliss, and it is – right up to the moment you have your tiny chicken head taken off by a willow stalk, ten feet long and two inches thick moving fast out of the sky. Your last thought may be “Well, that Chicken Little guy was right then” but that won’t detract from the fact that a) it will be your last thought and b) your job laying eggs and digging up weeds isn’t over yet.
On a day that actually could take the description “summer” and successfully run with it, cutting down a hedge is probably not the best thing to be doing but I was beginning to lose the will to finish this task – my guess was that a good gale force wind might snap the main trunk supporting all those branches and then the job, whilst not being done, would be nearer the ground.
After some hours, finally the last trunk was cut – what should I find inside? Glad you asked:
Examining the trunk, I could see no immediately obvious entry point of the little woodlice so perhaps they had been in the main wood for ages and the entry hole had then healed up. I felt a bit guilty about exposing their des-res to the elements but I am pretty sure they will survive.
Presumably if I had left things as they were, perhaps the woodlice would have eaten their way through the hedge and done my pruning for me!
As I stand and survey the wondrous victory that is a hedge now under six feet high, I can hear the birds, the sheep – and the distinct sounds of willow growing.