60 years on and the line of small fir trees planted by Daddy that separated us from Furic’s field have been ravaged by processionary caterpillars. In less than 2 years they have become depleted 25m poles, depressing.
So we hired a team of woodcutters to cut down and cut up these 16 trees, some of which had trunks of over 60cm. They now lie at the bottom of the small wood.
