I hate having to fell trees, but sometimes you need to if they are ailing or simply in the way. Last week we had to dispatch one that was both.

When we bought the barn near our house in 2003, three tall ash trees grew behind it. I have no doubt that they had seeded themselves. The barn had barely served for so long that it was hard to imagine anyone planting them deliberately. One even grew through a heap of stones that was once a house.

Ash is a fast-growing species. Even so, the height of these three suggests they are already quite old. In the spring, their pale green leaves are among the first to unfold. Only the two outer ones always looked healthy. The leaves of the middle ash were the first to yellow, shrivel and fall. It put out suckers near the base of the trunk, a sure sign of stress.

Even more concerning, a large branch overhung the roof of the well, which we had painstakingly restored. In addition, we need to replace the barn roof this year. When the couvreur (roofer) visited to survey the work, he wasn’t happy about the tree, which he said would obstruct the crane they will need to use.

Tree surgery

Enter a tree surgeon. We contracted him to take down the tree last October, but the weather has been too rotten. Last week, however, he turned up with two workmen, who he put to work. It was freezing cold, damp, raw weather.

One swung about in the tree like a monkey, carefully cutting the branches one by one and lowering them by rope to his colleague below. Within four hours, the tree was down, except for the stump, situated right by a wall. What’s left looks like a throne. I have half a mind to ask them to leave it, so I can sit there and contemplate the countryside.  

The next day, it snowed, which turned to icy rain. Even so, they turned up in the afternoon to start sawing up the branches. Feeling sorry for them, I asked if they would like a hot drink.

“Non, merci, c’est bon,” said one, waving a hand.

“Moi, je veux bien,” said the other with a defiant stare at his colleague.

In a few days’ time, we will stack the logs in our barn to season for a couple of years before becoming firewood.

Fatal disease

Trees are a defining feature of the landscape here, especially ash and oak trees. The ashes seed themselves freely, frequently turning up where you don’t want them, and growing fast. Their wood is soft and pliable, so high winds often tear off living branches.

Like many other species, such as oaks and plane trees, ashes are under threat from various maladies. The chief one is a fungal disease, Hymenoscyphus fraxineus, that causes ash dieback and eventual death.

In parts of Eastern and Northern Europe, the disease has already killed up to 50% of ash trees and may eventually destroy between 60% and 90%. It’s comparable to Dutch elm disease, which changed the face of the British landscape in the 1960s.

Changing landscape

This could change our local landscape significantly. I can’t imagine it without these trees, but it wasn’t always so heavily forested around here. The land was under much more extensive cultivation. I have seen photos of our village and the surrounding hillsides with barely a tree in sight.

Rural depopulation put an end to intensive cultivation. Former fields with stone walls around them, full of scrub oak and undergrowth, are common sights here. The hillsides are now wooded where once sheep grazed.  

A military training camp occupies a large swathe of countryside in the commune. When it was first established, the military had to raise a signal on a tall tower to warn the shepherds of impending artillery fire. Now, the pastures have given way to woods and thickets.  

I’m unable to find an image that I can use of our village showing the bare landscape, but if you imagine the scene below without trees, you’ll get the idea.     

I’m keeping fingers crossed that this disease doesn’t spread here. Apparently, ash species in Asia, where the disease originated, have developed an immunity. Perhaps they will here, too, otherwise the landscape will change yet again. And we need all the trees we can get.

Endnote

There are a couple of places to add to my post from last week about 10 things to do in Southwest France this year (so this makes 12):

• La Grotte de Foissac (Aveyron): this cave complex not far from Figeac sheltered people more than 5,000 years ago and preserves the artifacts they left behind. It also has remarkable rock formations. We have driven past a number of times but never visited.
• The collégiale belltower in Villefranche-de-Rouergue (Aveyron): the collégiale (cathedral) dominates la place Notre-Dame in the centre of the town. From the tower, you get a terrific view of Villefranche and the surrounding landscape. Another thing we still haven’t done.

Thank you for your suggestions and comments on my list last week.

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