One of the things I love about coppicing, especially by hand, is working out which stem to cut next.
You need to be able to get the saw at it, as low down as possible, without banging into other stems. You want to cut from the back, so that the weight of the stem pulls the cut open, otherwise you have to use your arm or body to push the stem in the direction it doesn't want to go so that the blade doesn't get caught. You don't want to give up on a cut and have to start again - it can take 100 bow saw strokes to get through one large stem. This means strategic thinking.
And where the stools are as overgrown as these ones, it takes a lot of thinking and sawing.
In the cold morning light, a blue sky but it had rained the night before, the hazel shone like silvered pewter or pewtered silver. Where they bend or twist, they form the shapes of lean, muscled limbs... astonishingly beautiful.
Once I have cut a stem, or at the very most four, I process the wood. Long, whippy sections could be binders for the top of hedges. I leave the twiggy ends on, as Huw and Carolyn at the coppice workshop did, so they can tie into the structure attractively and firmly. Long straight and not too thick sections could be poles or stakes. The thick parts or bent parts are firewood. I use the billhook on all the wood to remove the lumps, knots, branch joints etc so that the wood is smooth and a straight as possible.
Even so, I think I have kept a lot of poles that are not straight enough. Also, as I don't know exactly what will be used, I left them very long so that whoever wants them can take what best suits their purposes.
After three days, I have only cut four and a bit stools. But I have processed a lot of wood!
Binders...
Poles...
Firewood...
The second time I came up, this pile had been knocked over and I had to restack it. This time, two women with three dogs stood there as their dogs destroyed the pile.
They said, "They think there's a mouse in there! Bella, Ozzie, this lady made that pile, she doesn't want you pulling it down."
"No, I don't," I agreed.
The dogs took not the blindest bit of notice.
"Come on Bella, Ozzie!"
No response.
"Please can you not let the dogs pull down the pile."
"They think there's a mouse in there!"
"I don't want to have to stack the wood up again."
"Bella! Ozzie!"
Nothing.
It took five minutes for them to remove the dogs from the wood and then one ran back.
I restacked the wood pile, muttering obscenities.
Here's a tip: if you can't rely on recall, use a lead. In fact, at these sites, you are supposed to have your dogs on leads. I don't actually care if the dog is under at least some control, but this was absurd.
Even my bad cat understands "No."
Impressive.