… a tongue of derelict North Pembrokeshire farmland, steep-sided, cross cut by crumbling dry-stone walls, and over-run by self-seeded ash, blackthorn, hazel, hawthorn, holly, oak, sycamore, and, everywhere, choking brambles and bracken…
… a slow unending conversion with pathways dug and occasionally mown, and much planting-in-hope, followed by many failures unable to adapt to the site’s micro-and-macro-climates (note: never try a mass planting of silver birch or eucalyptus in permanently damp deep grassland)…
… the chain-saw’s work is unending…
… and yet some of our numerous introductions have flourished and continue to multiply (cotoneasters and dogwoods seem to revel in the long wet winters and permanently humid atmosphere)…
… other implants have put a brave face on things and continue (so far…) to struggle on steadfastly…
…here are some of them…
