An Orchard Is a Habitat First

A traditional orchard is not a tidy fruit factory. It is a loose scattering of standard apple trees, usually on vigorous rootstocks such as M25 or MM111, planted ten to twelve metres apart, growing in unsprayed grass with hedges at the edge and often a few old pears, plums or damsons mixed in. That structure, open and sunlit but full of age and decay, is what makes it so valuable. In much of lowland Britain these orchards are now scarce, and the wildlife that depends on them has few other places to go.

The worth of an orchard lies in the combination: old trees, standing dead wood, unimproved grassland and hedgerows that have never been flailed to within an inch of their lives. Take away any one of those and the whole web thins out. The encouraging part is that most of the work needed to bring an orchard back to life is the work of not tidying up, plus some thoughtful pruning and grazing.

Dead Wood Is the Crop You Never Pick

Standing dead wood is the richest habitat in an old orchard, and the thing most likely to be cleared away by a well-meaning tidy-up. Apple trees hollow out naturally, and that decaying heartwood feeds beetle larvae, which in turn feed woodpeckers, treecreepers and bats roosting in hollows or behind loose bark. Rot holes collect water and leaf litter, supporting the fly larvae and small insects that bats and birds depend on. Fungi soften the wood further for everything downstream.

The working rule is simple: leave at least one dead limb on every tree where it is not a safety risk, and keep fallen branches in piles at the orchard edge rather than burning them. A heap of prunings left to rot is worth far more than a neat bonfire, especially if it sits half in shade beside a hedge.

• Remove dead wood only where it could fall on a path, a road, a fence or a person.
• Where a hollow branch must come out, cut it back to a living collar and leave a stub rather than sawing flush.
• Keep two or three log piles, of different sizes, in different parts of the orchard. Sunlit and shaded stacks rot differently and host different species.

Grass, Mosses and Lichens Beneath the Trees

Traditional orchards were rarely dosed with fertiliser, which is why they hold mosses and lichens that have vanished from improved pasture and arable land. Bare patches, ant mounds, tussocks and the rough ground around tree bases all matter, and the bark of an old apple tree is a habitat in itself: crusty, leafy and pin-cushion lichens in mustard, grey and pale green, alongside feathery mosses on the north-facing side of the trunk.

Mow or graze to a mosaic rather than a lawn. Leave a third of the orchard long each year, rotating which third, so tussocky grass can flower and set seed, then cut or graze the rest from late July onwards. Sheep are the traditional tool: light grazing from autumn through winter keeps the sward open without poaching it, and they leave the moss and lichen communities at trunk bases largely alone.

Do not lime, fertilise or spray the sward, and do not keep it perpetually short. Where ivy or dense scrub is genuinely swamping a trunk, clear it back, but remember ivy is valuable in its own right for nesting birds and late nectar.

Hedges, Margins and Wild Edges

A hedge laid in the traditional way, cut part way through at the base and bent over, thickens at the bottom, which is precisely what nesting birds need. A flailed hedge grows thin and leggy and nesting success drops. If you can, lay a hedge on a rotation of ten to fifteen years, a stretch at a time, so some sections are always tall and fruiting while others regrow.

Plant a mixture rather than a single species: hawthorn and blackthorn for blossom and sloes, hazel for nuts and catkins, field maple, dogwood, spindle and wild rose for autumn colour and hips. Leave the occasional hedgerow tree standing, and leave a rough margin of nettles, cow parsley and cocksfoot along the base, where insects and small mammals live.

Growing Apples Without Stripping the Place Bare

Prune in winter, from November to February while the trees are dormant, aiming for an open-centred goblet shape. Take out crossing, rubbing and crowded branches, and remove no more than a quarter of the canopy in any one year. Neglected old trees are best restored over three or four winters rather than in one brutal session; hard pruning all at once encourages a flush of weak growth and invites canker.

Choose varieties with vigour and some natural disease resistance for your soil and region. Culinary and dual-purpose apples such as Bramley, Egremont Russet and Ashmead's Kernel earn their place, while cider varieties like Kingston Black, Dabinett, Yarlington Mill and Michelin bring the tannin and acidity that make a proper drink.

Then accept a little scab, a few codling moth grubs and the odd cankered twig. An unsprayed orchard carries predators, from earwigs to tits, that keep pests in check far better than a sterile one. Avoid heavy nitrogen feeding, which produces soft growth and more problems than it solves.

Small-Batch Cider from a Wildlife-Friendly Crop

Pick late, when the seeds are dark brown, the fruit comes away easily and a bite tastes sweet and aromatic rather than sharp and starchy. Leave the windfalls for wildlife and press only sound, clean fruit. Rinse it in plain water, not chlorinated water, if you want a wild fermentation to get going.

Mill and press, then let the juice settle. Fermentation usually starts on its own within a few days and can take weeks in a cold shed, which suits the flavour. Rack the cider off its lees after a few weeks, and again in spring. Dry cider needs nothing more; a sweeter one wants racking, chilling or keeving with low-nitrogen bittersweet fruit, and blending is where the real skill lies. A sharp apple lifts a heavy bittersweet one.

Bottle in strong bottles with a little priming sugar if you want sparkle, and keep them cool. Finally, leave a share in the orchard. Windfalls left under the trees through winter feed fieldfares, redwings and blackbirds, and the fallen fruit in autumn draws wasps, hornets and red admiral butterflies. An orchard that gives something back to everything living in it is one that will still be cropping in fifty years.