Ode to Conservation
When you’re up to your axles in black mud, and the gorse thickets seem ten foot tall,it’s hard to remember you’re here for the redshank... and nobody cares at all!
Conservation ain’t all coffee and gift shops. That part of it is really quite small. It’s more about gorse, brambles and buckthornand being there for the really long haul.
A major piece of water management on the farm has just taken place with an extensive bund put in place between the raised bog and the wetlands. This is to hold water back onto the raised bog to stop it drying out and to control more effectively water to winter wetlands. This has involved several days work with a very large machine.
Digger work - end September to early October 2010
Bunding up to wood
Bunding back to Moss
View from hide of digger working
Raised water levels as seen from hide 12th October 2010
A number of meadows on the farm are now getting their second cut in preparation for raised water levels and the arrival of wintering wildfowl.
Stephen cutting the oats field also
Recent Workparty Activities
1. North Plain Farm Pond - 9th September 2010
The clearing out of reeds and willow which had overgrown the pond is aimed at improving it as a good breeding ground for frogs, newts and dragonflies next Spring.
2. Gorse coppicing on Saltmarsh - 7th October, 2010
This is the start of this winter’s programme of selective old gorse cutting at the top of saltmarsh. It will rejuvenate growth which will encourage warblers, linnets and invertebrates.
The workparty has landed
3. Some thoughts on pot holes - 7th October 2010
There’s Fred with his shovel and barrow, filling potholes on the way to the Farm. It’s a tough job but someone’s got to do it! So let’s cheer and lend strength to his arm.
So Fred knows as well as I did, that it’s been done for generations past. But each person that’s lovingly done it, hopes that, this time, it’s going to last.
The moral of this story, I’ll tell you that it’s clear to me, my friend. Those potholes are still going to be there, when this old world comes to its end.
So to you captains there at Sandy, there’s a message here for you ... a hundred yards of tarmac drive, would be welcomed by Campfield’s crew.