A tale of two hedges continues.

They were cut, front and back, despite my protestations, a couple of weeks ago. They look so bare and pitiable, like Britney, it brings a tear to my eye.

What couldn’t be cut was two large tress. One is an ash and will look great, if a bit lonely, given time. Like Britney. The other was a hawthorn bush that lost the run of itself, got notions beyond its station, and grew into a tree. A big ugly, gnarly, ivy encrusted monster. Like an Ent, but without the smarts. And, unlike Ents, without the ability to move.

But it wasn’t bothering me much. Live and let live. It has roots in this place as I do.

All was well until Sunday when I had two unexpected visitors. Pat and Elaine are what are known in Ireland as mickey-relations. No blood ties, but are vaguely related to someone who is (probably vaguely) married to someone vaguely related to me. You know they way it is. Relations who are your nearest and dearest when they want something.

Elaine rang ahead to say she would be stopping by to see how the building was coming along. Ten minutes later Pat called to say he was in the area and ask if I needed bread or milk. That’s a very Irish thing - even if you are visiting the house of a celiac vegan you still offer to bring bread and milk.

Oh, that’s fine extension, lauded Pat. A right one, added his sister. Pity about that auld tree there. If it falls, it’ll hit the house. I agreed, but pointed out it would only clip a few slates and that I’d cut it down if I seen it about to topple.

Well I have a chainsaw in the jeep if you’d like to get rid of it now. Shur it’ll only take a few minutes. I’m not one to look a gift chainsaw in the mouth so I gave the go-ahead.

True to his word, Pat had the tree felled in minutes and we set about cutting it up into manageable blocks. That’s great, Pat. I’ll be able to get rid of them during the week. Well if you want, offered Elaine, I’ve a big boot on my car and I could take them away. They’d probably burn in my fire once they’ve rotted a bit. Okay, shur work away then.

My neighbour noticed the missing tree the next day. Pat and Elaine turned up out of the blue and took it, I explained. Would they not just take tea and biscuits? He went away chuckling to himself leaving me wondering who had done who the favour.

It is not all that long ago that Ireland’s farmers were showered with grants for hedgerow removal. The reasoning was simple: taking out the hedges, filling in the ditches and laying new drainage systems meant larger field size and more arable surface area. Tillage farmers could use bigger, faster and more efficient machinery, and they could use it more efficiently as a machine covers more area in an hour the less times it must turn at a headland. Hedgerows on headlands also impeded crop production - they shade the crop and lower yield, and weed and pest infestation is more prevalent there.

In ways they were unwittingly shooting themselves in the foot. The hedgerows acted as natural barriers to insects and fungal pathogens. The artificial drainage systems, no matter how well engineered, seldom worked as well as the natural. Sheep farmers complained of foxes taking more lambs that usual. With the ditches and banks gone, so too were the rabbit burrows and the foxes had to find alternative food.

They were also destroying the habitat of so many animal, bird and insect species. Insects! you say. To hell with them. Horrible little annoying things that get in my hair while I’m out walking. Ever stopped to think what the pretty little birdies you so admire on your walks eat? I haven’t seen figures yet, but I can guess that many fledglings hatched this year died before leaving the nest, or shortly after, because their parents, or they themselves, couldn’t source enough food during the cold wet summer.

But were the farmers wrong? Not when you consider they were being advised by the experts and encouraged by the authorities- the EU. Were those experts and authorities wrong? Not when you consider that was the accepted wisdom of the day. There were an abundance of alternative habitats pre-Celtic Tiger when the population was lower and very few roads, commercial premises and houses were being built. The farmers were ill advised and the experts mistaken.

Once those errors were realised, actually a long time after they were, steps were taken to reverse the damage. The non-farming community were aghast that farmers would be paid to leave land idle under the set-aside scheme. It took a few years, but a lot of species recovered. I could see this myself. The REPS (Rural Environmental Protection Scheme) came later and went unnoticed by the general population. Substantial payments are be made for ensuring the preservation of wildlife habitats including hedgerows. This had an even greater effect.

Now I’m not a farmer, but the place here is bordered by hedges planted by my grandfather in the 1930’s. The roadside section is barren - the volume of traffic keeps all wildlife away from it. But the back, a stretch of about 180m, is high and wide. Some would say overgrown, but I say natural. Hawthorn flowers white as if weighed down by a blanket of snow. From my window I see branches drooping under a heavy load of red berries. Both wonderful sights, the second for birds too.

[Did you get this far, by the way? Or did all the talk of farming send you away?]

My problem is the Council are on my case to trim the front one. They have a legal right to insist, but it wouldn’t be an issue if they hadn’t resurfaced and widened the road, without consultation and all done for the Ryder Cup, but with the knock-on effect of trebling traffic volumes. It’s strange they are quoting the law now, yet encouraged land owners to trim their hedges before the legal September 1 date last year so as to have them looking pretty for the golf tourists.

But I can give in on this - it’s barren anyway as I say. My greater issue is the back hedgerow. Some of it has to be cut down to about 1m because of the house extension. I can relent on this too. But I am coming under pressure from my perfectionist builder who is insisting that the remainder will look bad if the rest is trimmed. Some of the neighbours have commented too, in their own subtle way - what are you going to do with that overgrown pile of shite, Primal? I have fobbed them off as politely as possible until now - mind your own business, ya interfering auld bollix.

They are right though. It will be an eyesore. If I am to cut it then January or February would be best. The birds would not go without their winter food supply and it would thicken up enough in time for nesting. But that would mean getting the hedge cutter in twice which is more costly - he’d have to re-trim the front to match. Plus the land is dry now and could be a swam come January.

Cut it now and be damned, you say. There are plenty of other hedges out there for the birds. There are wildlife reserves for them. But isn’t that passing the buck? Saying it’s not my fault, I had to do it - a common trait of late in Ireland. BSE as one of the papers called it yesterday - blame somebody else.

And if you’d ever taken a stroll with me at dawn when all is quiet you’d smile to see the birds feeding or nest building where they were meant to. For me, that is a far greater joy than watching them use an artificial birdhouse or feeder.