As you drive the roads around the west of Ireland during the late summer you might see random sods of turf lying by the roadside, which reminds you that if your own turf is still sitting in the bog it is past time to get it home.
For those of you not familiar with Irish rural life turf is a fuel that is literally cut out of the ground in some parts of the country, and then dried and stacked in the protection of an open-sided shed to keep your home fires burning during the long winter. For many of the homes around here it is probably the most used fuel for home heating – many homes having a solid fuel range that is an oven, hob, water heater and backside warmer all rolled into one.
But back to the bog, which is where we’ve all been hanging out for the last week. The bog is a beautiful place, a stretch of peatland that supports its own distinct flora and fauna, as well as being an important source of fuel for rural dwellers. But these days and for much of the summer the bog is a place for hard, back-breaking, hamstring-stretching labour.
Field scabious bobs in the breeze around stacks of turf
Earlier in the summer the turf was cut by a huge earth-eating machine and extruded in neat ribbons of wet squelchy dirt. A few weeks later, when the outside layer of turf had dried out and cracked itself into shorter lengths, these ‘sods’ were turned and stacked into little piles to help them dry faster. Around here these stacks are often created by putting two sods crossways on top of two, on top of two more, a process known as ‘boxing’ turf. Indeed it is fascinating just how creative people can be in their stacking techniques, but then we have to do something to entertain ourselves during our hard labours.
Turf is ‘boxed’ to encourage faster drying
So now is the time to bring it all home before the rain returns and turns the bog back into – well, a bog again. So off we go, tractor and trailer, with the dog and as many people as we can round up, and we rattle down to the bog for the loading of the turf. Bend down, catch as many sods as you can handle, straighten up and throw them into the trailer. Its just like a kettle bell session, but with sky-larks!
The bog is home to many different species of mosses and plants
And then home to the yard, where you tip up the trailer to dislodge its load and then manually fling each sod of turf into the turf shed. When these sods of turf eventually make it into the range or the open fire they will have been handled at least five times! So next year, when we will be legally prevented from cutting turf in our particular bog due to an environmental protection restriction, there is a part of me (my back mostly) that won’t be particularly sorry!
Faraway Fields 