The Opportunity
Let us show you around the land that lies in waiting. Cerddwch gyda ni, dychmygwch gyda ni.
An opportunity has presented itself to Tir Natur. A significant area of land which has been deemed unsuitable for commercial forestry and the dominance of purple-moor grass and bracken undermine its grazing value.
This is an opportunity to showcase the cascading benefits of full-scale ecosystem restoration to people, communities and the physical environment. We want you to be part of it. Chi a ni, gyda'n gilydd.
Image: An Osprey ,Gwalch Y Pysgod (Fish Hawk) skims the surface of the water, a fish clutched in its talons.
The river meets you at the entrance to the land, its turgid waters in full flow after refreshing rain. Now the sun has broken through the clouds, illuminating a complex topography of undulating hills, craggy outcrops of rock and steep-sided gorges, each with its own tumbling stream. Then begins the slow ascent, along well-made tracks, up past dense plantations of Sitka spruce, accompanied by the gurgle of flowing water.
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The land here appears desolate and barren or clothed in a monoculture of forestry, but it is still majestic. Where the forests end, rush pasture and purple-moor grass dominate, interspersed by dense thickets of bracken. A skylark navigates the wind over our heads, heard but not seen, whilst a male roe deer, springs up unexpectedly, before clumsily vaulting a barbed-wire fence. It feels as though nature here is biding its time, waiting patiently for its chance to erupt in all its glory. The ravines give shelter to young rowan, oak and willow. Pine marten are known to be neighbours whilst red squirrel are seen here, scrambling up the bark of Scot's pine and beech. Otter frequent the river, as do sandpipers and goosanders. Red Kite and buzzard hunt for carrion and small mammals in the thick tussocks whilst osprey patrol the water, where trout and pike abound.
Image: An Otter, Dwr-Gi (Water Dog) prowls on a fallen log.
But there is something holding this land back, from reaching its full potential. Overgrazing over the years has restricted natural regeneration and reduced not only the ecological, but agricultural value of the land. Few new trees find opportunity, their nutritious leaders nipped in the bud, so to speak. The purple-moor grass and rush, disfavoured by sheep, are allowed a free-hand and have become invasive; few other wildflowers or grasses can compete with their sheer dominance. Land-drains, cut a hundred years ago or more, have sucked the peatbogs dry, their precious carbon allowed to slowly seep skywards. The surrounding empty forests, many planted after the war, have acidified the soil and water.​
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Image: A Kingfisher, Glas Y Dorlan (Blue of the river) sits perched on a small branch, surveying the river.
Imagine, then, a new approach. Ancient Welsh cattle and ponies enter the land. Their heavy footfall punctures the dense thatch of grasses, creating bare earth opportunities for both a latent seedbank and new arrivals. Pigs get to work, digging up bracken rhizomes and disturbing tussocks, in an eager hunt for fungi. Over time, as harsh winters and thankful summers pass, scrub of hawthorn and blackthorn punctuate the hillsides, willow and alder create cooling thickets along the river’s edge, whilst specimens of rowan and oak pierce through bramble. A multitude of wildflowers decorate the open grassland and the wet blanket bog hosts spagnum mosses, moisture-loving flowers and bog cotton. Insects thrum everywhere and stonechat, meadow pipit and lark add to the soundtrack. Ground nesters such as golden plover and curlew make their triumphant return.​
