Remember when you had a life that didn’t include trees that needed an annual pollard?
I’ll happily prune shrubs, prune fruit trees, prune just about anything at ground level.
But this. The mulberry. The inaccessible and tricksy tree. Every year around this time I have a panic and remember I need to cut back the annual growth before everything leaps into life.
And after our rather mild winter, I’m reaching that stage where things are becoming most urgent. The mulberry, the vines, the asparagus.
How long have those there been on my list?
Well, one ticked off, two to go.
And this year it is made even more fun with the detritus in the courtyard. Our stone wall building creeps on a pace. A slow, measured pace.
In contrast I offer you a fast photo essay. I can’t tell you how hard it is to get shots of the building site with plants as the star, rather than tiles, beams, dismantled bread ovens, rocks. Lots of rocks.
It’s a successful day when you don’t trip over any of these hazards. And I have a nice stock of sticks for the permaculture bed.