Wednesday, 12 March 2014

All around my hat

If you've been reading for a little while, you'll have seen me mention weaving with Debs at Salix Arts. Whenever I go I know there will be a warm welcome, and wonderful food, and that I'll come away having made something fabulous.

But one of the best parts is the glorious willow Debs prepares for use in her workshops. I've bought a fair amount of willow now and hers is easily the most consistently lovely. This year she's asked me to lend a hand harvesting the current crop and I thought I'd share what's involved. (I can't share my back ache with you but it's nothing a hot bath won't sort out!)

Willow grown for harvest is coppiced and sprouts up from little stumps called stools. Each rod must be removed each year, by hand. This is straightforward but can be hard on the back and requires concentration if you're to avoid being poked repeatedly in the eye.

The willow beds are wet and muddy, and not a good place to drop secateurs (can you tell I've done this?!) Speaking of which, it's become very clear to me that oiling and sharpening tools becomes a daily job if you want to avoid hurting your wrists.

Once cut, the willow needs to be sorted by length and thickness - the high tech solution we use is to dump all the rods into a metal bin and then pull out the longest rods a few at a time and slowly, slowly group them into different piles. It's a toss up between sorting as you cut each armful, or cutting masses and sorting all at once. At the moment, the warm weather means the sap is starting to rise and the buds are threatening to break so we are cutting as fast as we can and bundling later.

After sorting, the rods are laid across a brilliant contraption that holds them together while we tie them with baler twine. Then they're ready to be taken back to Salix Arts.

At this point, what we have is called "green willow" - nothing to do with the colour. It's full of water and thus not great for basket making as it will shrink enormously as it dries. But it is gloriously coloured and amazingly flexible, and perfect for sculpture or making living willow structures. In a couple of months it will have dried out at which point it can be resoaked and made into all sorts of baskets and plant supports and decorations. But right now, I am using it to sharpen my skills in willow sculpture and little baskets that may shrink before summer is out but are perfect for spring flowers.

I have back ache, hand cramp, blisters and at the end of the day am tired to the point of exhaustion, but when the sun is out and the birds are singing, it's hard to think of a better place to be. If you'd like to keep up to date with the harvest you can follow me on twitter where I'm posting updates using the hashtag "willowharvest"