Order in chaos ...
Blackthorn bordering the orchard at Waterhatch
The blossom on the perry pear trees that stand sentinel along its borders first alerted us to the existence of an orchard at Waterhatch. But for those tall pear trees, the orchard was invisible, hidden from view behind an unruly hedge of hawthorn and blackthorn and obscured by a dilapidation of barns. The orchard, once discovered, could only be described as abandoned, beautifully tranquil and wonderfully secluded, but totally neglected. The apple trees were hopelessly overgrown, the grass beneath and between them rank, the air heavy.
Someone once used this orchard to make cider with Dabinett, Tom Putt and Michelin cider apples, so we tracked down the owner and following a quick discussion and friendly negotiation we planted new Tom Putt and Dabinett trees, to replace the fast fading ancients, and added Yarlington Mill and Ten Commandments to the mix. We introduced a fine array of eating apples to the orchard, to pique the interest of the owner, including three of our favourites; Ashmead’s Kernel (Gloucestershire’s finest), Adams’ Pearmain (from Norfolk - we acknowledge great things can come from other counties) and Lord Lambourne (from Laxton’s nursery in Berkshire, 1912). The orchard now also hosts Egremont Russet, Gladstone, Pitmaston Pineapple and Tewkesbury Baron. All told, a fine array of apples to choose from and we defy anyone not to find one they’d like to munch.
All the old plum trees have long since died, leaving behind a few old stumps and a random collection of sour self-seeded specimens. As replacements, we planted four Gloucestershire varieties, the delightfully named Dymock Red, Rodley Blackjack, Shit Smock and Winterbourne Magnum, and awarded another starring role to Berkshire with a few Marjorie’s Seedlings - less to please Berkshire and more to aid jam-making.
Perry pears look after themselves and are best left alone, so we left them alone. We reckon they’re only about 150 years old, so mere striplings in perry pear terms. An orchard, by definition, is about fruit trees, so that side of things is now taken care of. Waterhatch is now an orchard with a decent variety of cider apples, of cooking apples, of eating apples and of plums, both young and old, and there’s now a fighting chance it’ll still be an orchard in 30 years’ time.
But there is - or can be - so much more to an orchard that fruit trees. Whilst there is no such thing as a bad orchard, some orchards are more orchard than others. Modern, commercial bush orchards, made up of serried ranks of apple trees, closely packed together and often of the same variety, are better for the environment and biodiversity than a field of wheat or barley (and reading between the lines, people, please recognise that drinking cider is therefore a more environmentally responsible choice than drinking beer), but other orchards are more natural, and traditional orchards are best of all, which is why we spend our time in them and get as much fruit from them as we can.
The definition of a traditional orchard is … a collection of five or more fruit (or nut) trees, grown on vigorous rootstocks, planted in low densities within permanent pasture and managed in a low-intensity way. All this creates an intricate mosaic of woodland and pasture, often bordered by hedges or scrub, that becomes a valuable, almost unique, habitat for so much flora and fauna. The People’s Trust for Endangered Species knows more about orchards than most and certainly more than we do. They identify 11 attributes of traditional orchards that have biodiversity benefits and, by design, most of them are present in Waterhatch orchard. To some, perhaps to most, the orchard may look like a disorganised mess but to us it looks like a job well done. Order in chaos.
#1 - New trees
New trees means that there will still be an orchard when the old trees die, so providing continuity, stability and security of habitat. Also, new and old trees have different characteristics and together they offer a succession of habitats.
No new trees had been planted at Waterhatch for 30 or more years. Now there are more young trees than old, so there may still be an orchard here in 30+ years’ time.
#2 - Dead wood within a living tree
Possibly the single most valuable ecological benefit of mature fruit trees is that they are early senescent - they age quickly - and so provide dead and decaying wood within living trees, which is valuable habitat for many species. We leave some dead and decaying wood when we prune.
It doesn’t mean the trees are in poor health - a tree with some dead wood can live and provide fruit for many years. It’s part of the natural ageing process of fruit trees and is a reason why trees on vigorous rootstocks are so valuable - they live longer and provide dead and decaying wood for longer. Dwarf and semi-dwarf trees have much shorter life-spans and don’t offer the same benefit. In some commercial orchards the trees are dug up and replaced after ten or so years and so don’t provide any of this ecological benefit.
#3 - Log piles and #8 - Standing dead wood
Log piles are a good source of food for shrews and voles. Shrews and voles are a good source of food for owls and other birds of prey. Log piles also provide shelter and winter homes for frogs, toads, beetles and hedgehogs.
An old and very dead plum tree has been left in situ. The rot holes within the stump are potential nests for birds and bats.
#4 - Windfall fruit
Wildlife needs the fruit just as much as we do. Windfalls and fruit on the tree are an important source of food in autumn and winter. Gathering fruit with ladders and panking poles leaves more fruit on the trees and on the ground than modern mechanical equipment, so there’s always plenty left for the birds and the beasties.
#5 - Managed grassland
Wildflowers can’t compete with rampant grass, so the sward does need to be managed. Thanks to the introduction of sheep and a couple of mechanical mows, the orchard floor is now more varied than it was and wildflowers now make an appearance.
#6 - Hedgerows
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The unruly hedge has been tamed. There is temporary loss of habitat but it’s for long-term gain; the hedge is rejuvenated and the lifespan of individual trees and the hedge as a whole is extended. Also, there’s plenty of hedge and scrub in the immediate vicinity, so wildlife is spoiled for choice. It’s also a good sign that the owner is investing in the orchard.
Hedgerows provide shelter and food and also connect other habitats, allowing animals to move across the countryside safely. Hedgerow plants can also provide nectar in summer and fruit and berries in autumn and winter.
#7 - Scrub
Blackthorn growing on the border of the orchard. Scrub is an intermediate habitat between grassland and woodland and is great for nesting birds, insects and harvest mice. It’s another piece of the mosaic jigsaw.
#9 - Orchard pest management
No picture for this one. This is the end result of having an ecosystem that is biodiverse. Having a lot of different species about means that it’s less likely that any one, whether malignant or benign, will dramatically increase and become a problem. When left alone, nature has a habit of balancing things out, which means that there is no need for sprays to control pests.
#10 and #11 - Mistletoe and Ivy
Like chaptalisation, these two could be the subject of a blog all on their own. They’re subjects that generate strong opinions.
Mistletoe: friend or foe?
It is a parasitic plant and it can damage - even destroy - apple trees, but it’s also has its uses. Mistletoe berries are a source of food for mistle thrush, blackcap and other birds and is the ONLY habitat for one species of moth, one weevil and four bugs. If there was mistletoe in Waterhatch, we’d leave it there - it needs to be managed and controlled, but healthy apple trees can cope with small quantities.
Ivy:
Unlike mistletoe, ivy isn’t a parasite and its benefit to biodiversity is indisputable. The problem is that it grows quickly, its weight can be enough to break limbs and if totally uncontrolled can almost suffocate a tree. So, like mistletoe, a welcome presence but needs to be managed and controlled.
No mistletoe and little ivy at Waterhatch, but there’s plenty of scrub, there are clumps of self-seeded plums and within these wild areas lichens, mosses and wild roses run riot.
9 out of 11 ain’t too bad …
It may look messy and chaotic, it may not be the neat arrangement that many expect to find or want to see in an orchard but beneath its scruffy exterior it’s become almost an exemplar of what a traditional orchard can be. Small, ragged … but perfectly formed. Order in chaos.
Good … but not as natural as a traditional orchard
We like all orchards and certainly prefer this to the ecological desert that modern agriculture can be. But these sorts of orchards are not the oases of biodiversity that traditional orchards are.
