Dam building and mud pies

Under the pressure of mass outrage by we chattering classes, the government abandoned its plan to sell woodlands into private ownership. The issue is by no means resolved, as the relaxation of the planning laws still poses a threat.

Britain still has some unique areas of ancient woodland . Our Bluebell Wood, although tiny, is classed as such and is therefore protected.  According the the much maligned Forestry Commission, ancient semi-natural woodlands, of which wet woodlands are a type, are all that remain of the original forests which covered most of Britain and now occupy only 1% of land area. Wet woodlands are valuable because they provide a range of habitats which support a rich diversity of plants and animals. Many woodland species, such as bats which can roost in clefts in the bark on old trees,  depend entirely for their survival on the continued existence of these habitats. These woods occur in river valleys, the surroundings of bogs, and beside small winding streams. Alder, willows and birches are the main trees found here, but the ancient trees of the Bluebell Wood are very beautiful ancient oaks. Mr Head Ranger explained how, over time, landscapes and habitats move through a cycle.  A wet woodland will eventually drain and dry out and the vegetation will change. This is called succession.  So we were to dam up a small stream that runs through the Bluebell Wood in order to allow the surrounding area to re-fill with water. Our work in damming up the little stream is to slow down the process of succession and to preserve what is an isolated, tiny patch of wet woodland for a little bit longer. 

The team of three, Mr Head Ranger and his Deputy, and me, worked in stages to get this job done. First, some long alder logs were measured and cut into 1.5m lengths to use for damming material. There were also some smaller, thicker logs about 50cm long. We carried these (heavy!) logs to the stream. Then we cut some slots in the bank at right angles to the stream, into which one of the prepared logs was placed. The slots at the edges of the log were stuffed with clayey soil that we had dug out. A layer of clay was put on top, then another log laid on top.  The whole was puddled with clay at the upside.  This involved getting a spade-full of clayey matter and dumping it. Not as easy as it sounds, as the clay/mud misture kept slipping off the spade. Much easier to use your hands and get up to your elbow in it. After this, one of the shorter lengths was dug into the stream bed directly under the two forming the bank. This last log forms a defence against the stream floor being eroded from the fall of water over the newly created dam.  We made four of these dams, and by the time we had finished we had a regular ladder of dams. My imagination immediately ran to leaping salmon, but I got a bit of a queer look at this from Mr. Head Ranger.  "Well", he said after a pause, "we might get some Lancaster bombers coming in".  Is this an example of the male and female brain?

So much of the work that I am doing for the Countryside Service reminds me of playing as a child. Am I now playing again? I think so! My other half takes a dim view of this. He thinks I deliberately seek out occasions to get dirty and play about in mud.  This isn't true. The truth is that I don't avoid getting my hands dirty, if the situation demands it. If you have looked after animals as I have in the past, you can't afford to be prissy about getting dirty.

We finished work on the dams at about 1.45, so had a late lunch. There were various delays afterwards to getting started again, but we managed to fit in a bit of brush layering to provide a boundary to one edge of the trail.  An excellent day.