Dead and decaying wood provides essential shelter and nourishment for all manner of insect inhabitants, so don’t be afraid to let the rot set in, urges Ursula Buchan
Early one evening in late July I found a struggling stag beetle in a bowl that had filled up with water, on an apron in front of our open woodshed. I was so excited that I photographed it in my hand, then carefully carried it to the nearest of our covered outdoor woodpiles, which consist of seasoning ash logs, and laid it down gently beside it. An hour later it had disappeared into the log pile, seemingly none the worse for its ducking. (Read more on how to create a compost heap.)
The value of a brash pile
I sent the picture to the website of the People’s Trust for Endangered Species as part of its Great Stag Hunt, only to discover that the greater stag beetle does not come as far north as east Northamptonshire, where I live. Its preferred county appears to be Hampshire, followed closely by Surrey and the Greater London area, particularly Richmond Park. In 30 years I have never seen one, although I do remember coming across greater stag beetles on school nature rambles in Berkshire in the 1960s. Those were the days. A closer look at the photograph revealed the insect to be a lesser stag beetle, probably a female, as it was less than 4cm in length, and with a spur on each ‘antler’. I discovered that the distribution of lesser stag beetles extends as far north as Yorkshire and, although not as rare as the greater sort, they are hardly common in Northamptonshire, so it was a great find. This sighting proved to me the value of placing or leaving dead wood about the garden, in log piles, ‘stumperies’, ‘brash piles’ or ‘dead hedges’, in order to provide a potential habitat for stag beetles. You won’t be surprised to hear that the greater ones are extremely picky, preferring the wood to be already rotting and mostly below the ground surface, where they live as larvae for several years before emerging to mate, lay eggs and then die. The lesser, which live for a couple of years, are easier to please, being more prepared to dwell at ground level rather than below it. (Read how to create a garden for insects.)
I would not go on about these beetles at such length if I hadn’t already become an enthusiast for brash piles. As I wander round my little ‘wood’ each day, I pick up any dead branches and twigs that stormy weather has brought down and add them to half a dozen piles that I have created here and there in sheltered, shady places. In autumn, the leaves raked from paths are added for extra warmth. These brash piles are left almost entirely undisturbed – except, it must be admitted, by an occasional questing spaniel. I make sure that there’s some space left at ground level for mice, hedgehogs and amphibians to enter but it’s tight enough to keep them safe and sound from badgers, foxes and grey squirrels, as well as protected from the worst of winter weather. Other inhabitants that find nourishment and/or shelter in wood piles include woodlice, spiders, centipedes and millipedes, earwigs and bumblebees. I like to imagine the teeming life in those brash piles but I make a point of never taking them apart to have a look. (Read more on how to create a muck heap.)
In smaller gardens, a dead hedge is probably a better option. This is a marginally more elegant structure that can be built near the compost bin or shed or even used as a natural-looking low fence. Dead hedges are made by driving wooden posts into the ground at intervals to create an open-ended rectangular enclosure, into which are placed shrub and tree prunings. Climbers can be planted close by to trail across the top to add to the ornamental nature of these installations. The truly creative (not me, obviously) could make them into miniature artistic masterpieces of natural, biodegradable materials. (Read more on planting a hero hedge.)
In the past, dead woody plants or parts of plants were put into the garden refuse wheelie bin or burned on a bonfire, treated as something of a nuisance, to be got rid of as easily as possible. But such a stratagem denies the fact that dead wood has tremendous ecological value. The recycling of rotting wood, achieved by stag beetles, other insects and fungi, is vital to a healthy ecosystem; it’s part of the natural processes of birth, growth, decay, death and rebirth, and we should give those processes space to play their part. And the wintertime, when we prune fruit trees and deciduous shrubs, is a very good moment to start.