Grahame's animal magic

Dozens of gardens around the county are adorned with his owls, otters, eagles and other creatures.

How does he do it? "I'm just trying to make it realistic," he says. "If I carve an eagle I like to put maybe a twist in the head so it's not looking straight on. So it doesn't look... wooden!"

There's no avoiding that in one respect. Not when your canvas is a tree: whether a stump or a piece of felled wood.

His sculptures are one part of Grahame's gardening business, Lawn Order. They are certainly the most eye-catching part. And it's a labour of love for Grahame, 48.

"According to my wife Lesley it's the only thing I've got patience for," he smiles.

"Anything electrical, computers... forget it. I can use a chainsaw better than I can use a coffee machine.

"I can be carving for hours and not know it's raining. Once I've got in the zone I don't even think about it. I've come in and said to my wife 'How long's it been raining?' 'Four hours.' I never realised because I've been that engrossed."

Grahame and Lesley live near Dalston with their daughters Rhianna, 18, and Sian, 15.

Some of Grahame's commissions are the result of word-of-mouth recommendation. Others come after he has been asked to fell a tree.

"Normally I get a phone call because people want a tree down. I'll say to them: your options are, I take it down to the floor, or you can do something with it.

"When I say 'chainsaw carving', they look at me as if I'm stupid. They've never heard of it."

When they have come to the welcome conclusion that the man with the chainsaw is sane, clients often opt for an example of local wildlife.

"People want something native. They don't want an eight-foot grizzly bear."

One of Grahame's largest commissions is ongoing at Thornthwaite, near Keswick. It includes two large tree stumps being transformed into an owl and a badger and two hawks with a rabbit. He is also carving a signpost with a squirrel on top.

Elsewhere stumps have become benches adorned with animals and foliage. A bird table has a woodpecker permanently on one side.

Some of Grahame's carvings are free-standing. Many are sold at summer shows when he demonstrates his craft. Events here do not always follow the script.

"At the Cumberland Show two years ago it was really windy. I started carving. Sawdust was blowing everywhere.

"I looked up and saw this guy eating a burger and spitting sawdust. I think he thought 'Where have they bought these burgers?' I had to stop.

"When you're sanding the beaks, too much pressure and the beak's gone. I tend to make the beak longer than is needed then I can take it in.

"At one show, doing an eagle, the beak came off. There was a gasp in the audience, and a few titters.

"I had to thin the head down and make it all half the size. The eagle became a buzzard."

His father, also called Grahame, accompanies his son to shows. Grahame senior oils and varnishes the free-standing carvings. This final touch helps them blend into the landscape.

Chainsaw carving is a marriage of art and craft: wielding potentially lethal machinery while being subject to the same foibles as any artist.

"I've got to be in the right frame of mind or it doesn't work. I've started to carve and thought 'It's not happening today.'

"Sometimes I'll get stuck and come back next day and see it straight away. You're never 100 per cent happy with them. You've got to know when to leave it alone or you end up with a pile of sawdust."

Grahame uses three saws: one to carve the rough shape, another to start detailing, then one with a small tip to add fine detail such as feathers. He sometimes uses photographs to guide him on these finer points.

"Lastly I use a blowtorch to put shadow on. That also brings out detail on wing feathers. Then a sander to smooth any rough areas."

Grahame's advice is: Don't try this at home. At least not without training and protective clothing.

"People at shows say they'll have a go when they get home. I say 'It's not something you can just go and do.'

"I've heard about people who have had accidents. It's amazing in this day and age that you can go into a shop and buy a chainsaw. They're lethal. You see people using them with jeans and wellies.

"I've had moments when I've caught my boot. I cut my leg once. But I always wear protective equipment."

For 20 years Grahame worked in a very different environment, as a tyre builder at Carlisle's Pirelli factory.

On days off he began helping a gardener with jobs such as grass-cutting and hedge-trimming, and took tree surgery qualifications. When voluntary redundancy came up at Pirelli about eight years ago, he took it.

"I thought 'If I don't go now I'll never go.' Once I started working outside, I didn't want to go back working inside."

The chainsaw carving started after he left Pirelli. "I went to a forest show in Staffordshire in 2010. There were about 20 carvers. They were phenomenal. I watched them, mesmerised.

"I did a day with a guy in Dumfries to show us the basics. When I got home I was making owls within a couple of days. I just took to it. It gelled with us straight away. I just love doing it. It started as a hobby. Then people were buying them.

"Now I can do a small owl in 20 or 30 minutes. Prices start from £30 for a small owl. The price depends on how long it takes. Somebody went to me 'You can't go to B&Q and buy one of these.' There's no two the same."

After nearly eight years of carving creatures, Grahame still seems pleasantly surprised that this is part of his working life.

He was always good at drawing and interested in wildlife, but there was no way of predicting that his creations would be dotted around Cumbria, peering out from unlikely places.

"I just find it amazing," he says. "When I left Pirelli I was terrified. Being in a factory for 20 years, you don't know you've got it in you. And I like the fact that a tool that's meant for destroying wood is creating something."