Looking up from my holly lopping the other day I was struck by the beauty of yellowing sallow leaves. Sallow can be a bit of a nuisance in a garden and it's not very good for firewood so I try to keep it in some kind of check. If the spreading branches of this plant come any lower (see pic below) I'll probably lop them. I've removed some already, those that I bumped my head against once too often.
Left to itself I think a good deal of Boggy Brae, especially the lowest, boggiest parts, would probably become sallow carr. Where my childhood family first lived on the Fylde was willow carr, called Oldfield Carr. I didn't appreciate the name's meaning at the time but thinking back I do remember some huge willows that we climbed and, where big branches looped low and up again, they were our rocking horses.
For those who are new to the Boggy Brae garden, the thing with the white rubble sack over it is an archery target boss. The bit of shed to the left is the old goose house, now being used as a small woodshed. Up near the top right corner those familiar with the Sentinel Tree that lives up the hill may be able to make out its photobombing antics.
The holly lopping mentioned above was to give a young oak more space and light. It has survived, with a little help from chicken wire judiciously applied, having its young bark nibbled by roe deer so now I reckon it's raring to go. There are several other self-planted tiny oak trees in the garden too—two years ago was a rich oak mast year. I'm willing them on where there's space for them but have had to pull out a couple of dozen that sowed themselves too near the house.
