As we are now a couple of months into our second year of looking after our small Devon wood, I've been thinkng a bit about the bramble or blackberry as it's commonly known.
When we took over stewardship the woods had been left to its own devices for a few years. There were signs of English bluebelles and wild daffodills. There were clumps of snowdrops but the brambles and other vigorous species had stealthily covered the ground layer and deprived these other species of light and space to thrive.
Our modest woods developed naturally once the limestone quarrying on the site ceased in the 19th century. Maps going back to the late 1800's refer to it as 'the old quarry' and the area as 'stony ground'. So, when the quarry fell into disuse the winding track that for many years took the stone down from the quarry face on carts, probably drawn by pony or mule, would have been only lightly trodden. Successive owners would have taken advantage of the gentle ascent created by this track to gather fuel from adjoining wooded areas. There, away from the quarry, the seams of stone weren't viable or even accessible as they dipped deep, so the mostly beech and oak covered slopes that mark the steep valley sides along the exe valley became more accessible all thanks to the quarrymen. In what would many years later become our woods, where the quarrying had shaped the landscape and many feet had compacted the earth, gradually the beech oak, ash and the otherwise ubiquitous hazel began to take hold.
At the top of the abandonded quarry face the beech trees towering above continued to grow and now loom over the ground, some 30 feet below, their characteristically gnarled roots exploiting every crack and crevice, reminding us of the tough, leathery hands of the quarrymen who also depended on the stone for their own precarious grip on life. Elsewhere the landscape of this immediate area was shaped by the quarrymen's day to day activities: the depositing of spoil removed to expose the sought after stone; creating level areas to enable work to be carried out and storing the paraphenalia of their trade. Paths would have been formed by workmen as they made their way around the site. Straight lines were rare, for on sloping, stony ground the logic of paths is determined by the gradient, the terrain and influenced by ancient paths already well trodden by wildlife that instinctively found the surest and most effiicient route.
We wanted to be able to walk around the woods and uncovered some of the existing paths long overgrown. With an old sickle honed in the traditional manner using a dry stone and a little effort, thick leather gloves and strong determination we soon created circular paths leading past choice spots where eventually we will place wooden seats. In these places we aim to highlight differing experiences: a particular view here of the valley opposite, there a spot where birds can be heard like the tapping of the nuthatch breaking into hazelnuts or the drilling of the greater spotted woodpecker on standing dead larch, or further up beneath the quarry face and the old beech trees where, amogst the deacying leaves, the damp, musty smells conjure up that distinctive woodlandy feel. To accomplish this we would need to break the stronghold of plants like the bramble.
There are many native varieties of bramble. Of those encountered in our woods they seem to spread in two main ways. Some throw out great long runners that easily root when they eventually come into contact with the ground. Other varietes have ground-hugging shoots that snake through the ground layer making it less easy to see the gradual spread. For both, any runners take root and the process is repeated so that in just a couple of seasons you have a lovely bramble farm. Some of the runners are yards long and spread at an amazing rate.
We had some idea of what we would be up against when we took on custodianship of our small Devon wood. But any ambition to eradicate this vigorous species would be futile. Some containment is perhaps possible if the effort is put in and maintained over the years. It, after all, established itself long before we moved in and despite me being up in the woods daily, sometimes for hours on end, I return indoors. Meanwhile it keeps growing... However, physical work has its own reward and better to be up in the woods prising bramble roots from the shallow stony soil, gathering up the long shoots and bundling them together than being sedentry.
Pulling these barbed colonisers out at first seems an easy means of control but we learned the hard way that this is a short term solution. If the shoots are freshly rooted their shallow grip is easily broken and this can help to contain the plant. However, with regard to the parent plant with its established tough root ball and long lateral roots, no end of tugging will make much difference as there will almost certainly be bits of root remaining. These readily grow again and this cunning plant will simply return the following year. Digging up and removal of all roots is a possibility but by no means easy to accomplish and the sunbsequent damage to the substrate and other plants including spring bulbs makes this a stategy of great risk without any certainty of success.
The deperate woodlander is therefore left with the chemical solution which if carefully administered can be the most effective long term method. As we don't want to totally eradicate the bramble we'll probably settle on control, selective and careful removal and sacrifice areas where control is a hopeless dream. This summer I also used selective, controlled burning where no other species would be in danger. The small experimental patch near to the quarry will be left for a year to see if this has been successful.
Even if the roots are dug out to deter regrowth, another consequence is that if clearning is left until the brambles are well grown, there will be a lot of bramble to dispose of. It sounds obvious but some jobs are best undertaken at a particular time in the year in order to make efficient use of, what is at my age, a dwindling reserve of energy and effort. As the cut bramble dries it goes woody and takes forever to rot downm perhaps never...? Thus we have a large heap of it that looks as large now as it did when we made it over a year ago. We did intend to use the shredder to get rid of it. Another good idea but it didn't take into account the ability of the bramble to clog the shredder. Nettles are good at that too.
It turns out however that initial misgivings about having huge mounds of dead bramble all over the modest woods were unfounded. At the bottom of the heaps it is well composted. The heaps do still look large but that appeasr to be due to the larger woody brambles that hold shape and support the heap. A bit of heavy footwork soon reduces the size of the heaps as those larger bits get broken down. I'm looking forward to carefully investigating this compost to see what creatures have lived there.
My go-to books about UK flora are Keble Martin, Concise British Flora and a series of three Pelican publications from the 1940's: Common Wild Flowers, More Common Wild Flowers and Uncommon Wild Flowers, all by John Hutchinson. The latter didn't include the blackberry or bramble (Robus) in his books. Keble Martin however lists a dozen or so with the usual detailed drawings and cites 400 in the genus which alos includes the raspberry.
As I have had the opportunity to deal with the bramble at close quarters there are noticeable diffrences between the varieties. Some hug the ground and have reddish stems and dark green leaves. These tend to have fine thorns and the sharp shoots creep along the ground rooting along their way. Others have shoots as thick as your finger and great barbed thorns able to pierce all but the toughest gloves. These throw out tender bright green shoots in all directions, reaching lengths measured in yards. As they mature the shoots harden and fix themselves in the shrubbery or up in trees. Where they touch the ground they root and shoot off again. The thorns of the bramble point backwards towards the main plant enabling it to hold fast once it has pushed its way through the undergrowth and into trees. That is why it is able to go grow to great lengths as it is almost impossible to dislodge as the hooks of the thorns get snagged. So, to pull a bramble out of undergrowth, tug it forward and not backwards. Use the same technique to remove a piece from your dog's coat or suffer the consequences when it nips you for your trouble. For the human hand, experience tells me the finest of thorns are the most troublesome and most difficult to remove.
The flower of the bramble is a fairly unremarkable affair,typically with five crumpled petals. It nevertheless is pretty enough in its range of colour from a lovely pastel pink to near-white and attracts a good range of insects. Bees, butterflies and other insects will be found on the bramble and in particular where it catches the full sun. It has a relatively long flowering period and often either early in the year or later towards the end of the summer will be one of the few sources of nectar available.
One of life's lessons is 'everything has it's place'. For us, the place for the bramble is in our newly restored hedgerow where we will gladly encourage it and happily gather its offering of fruit. Where it throws out one of those runners we'll carefully weave it back into the branches and along with the blackthorn and hawthorn we'll make the hedge Jarvis proof.
I'll be writing soon about our hedgerow, how we revitalised it, how it's progressing and future plans...
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