The panel talked about the disconnect with nature, the problem with social media, the time poor generation... What they didn't talk about, which I see every day, is much simpler. "The young" don't own houses with gardens.
I know, you can have houseplants or garden in window boxes or pots or - again, if you're lucky - get an allotment. It's just not the same as creating a permanent or semi-permanent garden.
Even if the house or flat you're renting has a good sized outdoor space why would you want the cost and have the work establishing a sustainable and attractive garden? In many cases landlords are going to be pretty proscriptive about what you can do anyway.
And if you're lucky enough to own a house it won't have a garden bigger than a handkerchief, which most likely will need paving ripping out.
I knew the tree officer for Devon County Council, and remember a conversation I had with him about tree planting. He told me how hard it was to get people to plant trees in the county, because of its age demographic. Many folk over a certain age feel that as they're not going to be around to see a tree to maturity there's no point bothering to plant it.
I feel almost an obligation to improve my own patch of land, which I wouldn't feel if I didn't own it or thought I'd be moving on soon - either physically or metaphorically. Growing stuff brings its own thrill, sure - but that's only part of the deal.
Of course, this also affects our ability to persuade people to put together habitats for wildlife, which is a very much related issue.
One potential answer - and more practical than solving the housing crisis! - is community projects. People like to invest time and energy into public spaces, particularly if they're creating permanent changes to their environment. There really is still a sense of pride and identity in many communities, and it can be encouraged. And yet...
I had a meeting earlier last week in our nearest large town, Yeovil. It was a kind of crisis meeting hosted by Able2Achieve, for local non-profits who work to improve their local environments. From the Wildlife Trust to small groups managing gardens and floral public spaces, allotments, churchyards - that sort of thing. Through work I'm familiar with these non-profits across the UK. They can be pretty big, effecting very significant local engagement and landscape scale change, like Chiltern Rangers.
And thank God they do. Like many, Somerset Council has all but gone bust. The horticultural resources it offered have gone, so the work of community groups is going to be even more important but much more difficult. There's no prospect of any help from the council for "non-essential" work. Their plant nursery has been closed, polytunnels abandoned. No school or community engagement work, staff laid off, events cancelled. Award winning Yeovil in Bloom has gone, and what's in the future for lovely Yeovil Country Park?
At one level the meeting was pretty inspiring. I'm always humbled by the people I meet who quietly do great things for their local communities. "Humbled" is a hideously overused word, but here used genuinely. Our local heroes are generally well informed, completely unacknowledged, grotesquely underpaid - if at all - and usually struggling against fierce headwinds. More than ever, they need help.
But volunteering is in a sustained downtrend (Source: CAF UK Giving Report) and in terms of £££s a bit of old fashioned philanthropy wouldn't go amiss. I'm particularly thinking of corporates and the wealthy:
As a society we have three options to deal with the collapse of local government support for environmental initiatives. This money isn't going to magically re-appear. Either we start volunteering for the non-profit organisations picking up the slack or we financially support them. Option three is doing nothing, which will have consequences far beyond the cancellation of Yeovil in Bloom.
*Radio Four's Gardeners' Question Time.
]]>It's amazing how much paper we were still using in those days, and how clunky our e-commerce system was. What on earth am I going to do with all these empty box files! I guess at least the shredded paper is good for our compost heaps.
The other thing which strikes me is the changing cost of things - or not. Carriage costs have gone crazy, but then that's no surprise. The cost of the stuff we sell -particularly imported gardening kit etc. - has also gone nuts. The increases in wildflower seed prices and fruit trees are less eye watering - and from a surprisingly low base.
This is pretty good news, as we want our growing nurseries and harvesters to make money. They weren't for many years, and today's prices still strike me as being very reasonable, particularly given the seemingly inexorable rises in production costs and the difficulties climate change is creating.
What hasn't budged much - if at all - is the price of bare root native plants. I've got mixed feelings about this. Not for profit community nurseries are very much the future for small scale plant production, and it's great that so many plants are available for free from NGOs like the Woodland Trust and the Tree Council.
On the other hand, we do need to encourage our commercial growers. We have to ensure there's a ready large scale supply of genetically diverse, good quality UK origin, UK grown native woodland trees and hedge plants. The newly live requirements for Biodiversity Net Gain are a vivid illustration of this, as baffled developers struggle to find the plants they need for their next housing estate.
Growers can in large part offset rising labour costs by investing in new production equipment, but the industry is going to be increasingly buffeted by climate change. Its effects are already apparent, with plants not grading because of drought and being impossible to lift because of incessant rain. Nurseries need to invest in expensive glass and watering systems, but even that's not going to help a contracting planting season.*
There are - unsurprisingly - too few growing nurseries in the UK, and a tiny supply of seed for commercial use. Things are improving, not least as a consequence of some well directed Forestry Commission grants, but we have a long way to go.
As consumers, we need to be persuaded to pay up for good quality UK origin native species. I'm disheartened by our relentless obsession with price rather than origin and quality when it comes to buying plants (shades of the food industry here). I see this all the time in gardening forums, as folk celebrate their latest knock down purchase.
You generally get what you pay for. I had an argument the other day with someone online exhorting people to put off their hedge plant buying until the last minute, when growers have to offload unwanted stock. Well yes, but if you plant a bare root hedge in April rather than November it's going to be a completely false economy.
Since 2012 many customers HAVE become much more aware about the origin of the plants they buy, but that's only part of the solution. So long as there's a commercial element to plant growing there has to be a decent profit in it.
*My confident expection is we'll be buying cell grown plants in future
]]>It's not entirely bucolic, of course; this is a working landscape, and always has been. A few hundred years ago we would have been on the edge of the great deer forest of Selwood, and the land hereabouts would have been wood pasture. You can still see the occasional great pollarded oak, marooned in the middle of a field. There are some late medieval hedges left too, flailed half to death and struggling with snowberry. These are as nothing to the iron age hedgerows around our previous house, a few miles away over Creech Hill.
We now look east across to Penselwood ridge. Alfred's Tower, an 18th century folly, dominates the skyline. Some say it's close to the site of St. Egbert's stone, although that's more likely to be in nearby Kingston Deverill. It would have been a great spot for Alfred to have lit the beacon to gather the fyrd to march to Edington in 878. Over 200 years earlier Cenwalh, king of the Wessex Saxons, defeated the Britons in a battle on the southern end of the ridge, where later the Normans built three motte and bailey castles.
Alfred's Tower is on the Hard Way, which our lane joins. This - also known as the Harrow Way - is one of Britain's oldest roads. Almost incredibly, it ran all the way across southern England from at least the Iron Age, and probably the Neolithic.
There's a lot of pre-history hereabouts; you don't even have to drive as far as the magnificent Whitesheet Hill, with its stunning archaeology and botany. On the western edge of Salisbury Plain, it would have been less than 6 miles away up the Hard Way. It's classic chalk downland though - a long way away from our heavy clay.
We live in an extraordinarily rich landscape, historically and culturally. I suppose nearly all the people working in it over the last 2000 years would have been pretty much unaware of it, although they would have had a strong sense of the kind of localism* championed by environmentalists from Roger Scruton to Common Ground. But why now, when all this information about the history around them is only a couple of clicks away, why do people not know about it? Why, when we are supposed to value this kind of countryside as a precious and disappearing asset, why are we so incurious? And as we are so ignorant, so we are careless with it.
We need to continue to fight to restore communities' local sense of place, although that's increasingly difficult as they become more temporary. An understanding of a place's historic context is easier to achieve, and that sense of connection would be a potent weapon in today's battles.
*Somerset has a long history of rebellion which evidences this!
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Just to muddy the waters further, "Service" is said to be a derivation of the Latin cerevisia, a type of beer, which the Romans used Service tree fruit to flavour. Not Wild Service tree fruit.
Anyway, apparently "torminalis" means its fruits are good for colic, though I haven't tried them myself. The birds like its fruit, which seems to have been a neolithic staple, although it needs bletting like medlars before it's really edible. Entirely predictably, folk used to make a kind of cider from Wild Service berries too. Not sure where the "glaberrima" comes into it, by the way.
I should also say it has another common name - the Chequer tree or Chequerberry tree. There's a Checkerberry (of course there is), Gaultheria procumbens, which has nothing to do with it.
This kind of confusion is very typical of a largely forgotten tree. It's odd, because we don't have that many broadleaf woodland species. And the Wild Service tree is a lovely thing. In the past its wood was prized too. Torminalis glaberrima has pretty white flowers, and beautiful autumn colour like an acer. It's most common on heavy clay soils but seems pretty unfussy, and its flowers are hermaphrodite. True, it does sucker sometimes, but that's a small price to pay for a lovely tree.
Our Chequerberry's bark has a decorative chequer look. Supposedly it might have lent its name to Chequers, the country house of our glorious leader, which had several Wild Service trees in its ground in Elizabethan times. Although they live up to 300 years, history doesn't relate whether there are any still growing there.
Torminalis glaberrima's natural range seems to have been patchy in the UK, focused in the southeast. I guess this is one reason why it's not often specified in planting schemes, but he most problematic issue it has is its low germination rate. This means it's expensive and tricky to grow Wild Service saplings from seed. We generally manage to find them to sell, but it's difficult and they're not cheap. They're odd looking plants when young, by the way, with a strange sinuous habit.
As it's not often planted it's usually an indicator of ancient woodland, where Torminalis glaberrima hangs around larger broadleaf species. It seems to need reasonable light levels, so lack of coppicing and other woodland management could also be reasons for its decline. It's also susceptible to Fireblight and Silverleaf. Joy.
Whatever, it's a super tree, and one you should consider planting.
]]>Despite all this, it seems BNG is here to stay. For the uninitiated, from 12th February 2024 (or 2nd April for small sites) property developers are required to show a 10% net gain in biodiversity over 30 years as a consequence of their development . The plan to do this is submitted as part of the planning process as a Biodiversity Gain Plan (a "BGP". Of course it is.). Oh - and there are different requirements for small and larger developments. Once you've worked out how many credits you'll need (i.e. the value of what you're destroying plus 10%), you need to work out how to create them. These can be on-site (preferred) or off-site, which are given less weight the further from the site they are. Remote habitat creation is weighted according to the priorities of the Local Nature Recovery Scheme. If even this isn't possible, the government is supposed to be creating credits you can buy, representing environmental improvements which it itself has made. With me so far?
Even if you buy into the idea it's fraught with complication and difficulty, as suggested by the number of BNG consultants who have sprung up.
I'm sure the unscrupulous will have a field day, but for those genuinely interested this does represent an opportunity to create something meaningful. Wildflower meadows (species rich grassland) are one of the habitats which will give you BNG credits, for example. As we all know, they're all but extinct in the UK, and brilliant for not only biodiversity, but also for flood control and as resilient carbon sinks. We've already been involved in several well executed net gain meadow projects
This is pretty exciting commercially for clients as well as in terms of habitat creation, particularly as BNG credits can be stacked with other payments. You could also claim a subsidy for nutrient mitigation, for example. BNG also works with the current Countryside Stewardship scheme - ask your land agent or consultant. Natural England have a helpful introduction to it too.
The hay from your wildflower meadow is likely to be highly nutritious for livestock, which can graze them over the winter months. The hay is also a high yielding feedstock for biodigestors - and so much less damaging than maize. Green hay is also helpful for anyone local starting their own meadow, and the seed can be harvested, cleaned and sold commercially - let us know if you have any!
It's important for many of these reasons to use a really good quality wildflower meadow seed mix if you're going to establish one for Biodiversity Net Gain. Don't be tempted to buy a cheap mix including imported wildflower seed, or agricultural cultivars, or with a low % of wildflowers:grasses. Worst of all, some "wildflower" mixes include non-native species. It's been a long standing bugbear of ours that the wildflower seed industry in the UK has been so badly regulated that this kind of thing happens all the time.
Doing it right isn't specified within the scheme, but it's implied. Sites are monitored over time and required to show a minimum number of species. There's a specified "time to target condition". This might not be very onerous, but clearly the beter quality, more floral and diverse the seed mix you use, the more likely you are to hit it. From our point of view, it's super encouraging that the metric relating to species rich grassland is based on an output, rather than, for example, the specifications we're often faced with when trying to supply solar farm developers.
Competently prepped, sown and managed* it would be very odd not to meet those targets using the mixes we sell. I'm thinking particularly about those seed mixes harvested from existing sites. These typically have something like a 50% wildflower element, although they're not factors more expensive than the "off the shelf" mixes with only 10%-30%. Direct harvest mixes have a tremendous diversity of species - up to 40 or 50. You can't say exactly what's going to be in them to the nearest %, but you can guarantee they won't include any agricultural cultivars, many of which won't persist beyond a few years, or perncious weeds. As for the grasses, they won't have anything other than native meadow grasses.
I'd say the same for other habitat features in the scheme. Appropriately selected Hedge whips and woodland plants are going to be quicker to establish, more resilient and more helpful for local biodiversity if they're well planted and managed. Not just that, but grown if not locally, in the UK from UK origin seed - like all the native plants we sell.
As with all good quality UK origin plant material, none of this - seed or plants - is available in huge quantities. Ask us about your plan well ahead of delivery. We've been working with the leading harvesters in the country since 2008, so we know what we're doing.
*we can help with this too!
]]>I'm not sure why their botanical names are so different, but we have Frangula alnus, Common or Alder buckthorn (above), and Rhamnus cathartica, Purging buckthorn. They look very similar despite being apparently from different genera. Frankly, if your botanical skills are similar to mine, it's easier to tell them apart from their preferred situation. They look very similar, even including their berries, which start off red and turn black. Alder buckthorn's leaves are more rounded - supposedly like Alder - and alternate, rather than opposite. Its stems are smooth, as opposed to Purging buckthorn, which has the occasional spine - it is a Buckthorn, after all.
Rhamnus cathartica usually grows in chalk and Frangula alnus in damp and more acidic soils. Oh, and "cathartica" as the berries are a fierce purgative - apparently widely used in the Middle Ages. "Frangula" as the buckthorn's wood is so brittle.
Although the wood's not much use, Alder buckthorn charcoal used to be valued for the gunpowder it made. Purging buckthorn had its use in times past too - as a cathartic.
Both buckthorns are often found in hedgerows but sadly rarely planted in new ones. Sadly because they're healthy looking neat plants, and super helpful for wildlife. It's odd as they're the perfect size for hedgerows too, growing to no more than 5m. I guess they're tricky to lay. This is all going to sound rather odd to American readers, incidentally, where Buckthorn is a non-native menace!
The leaves are green and glossy in spring and summer and have attractive autumn colour (photo above). Buckthorns have little yellow flowers and, like the Lonicera nitida flowers they remind me of, attract bees in particular. We sell a fair number to lepidopterists, who want to encourage Yellow Brimstones. This attractive butterfly's larvae feed exclusively on buckthorn.
*Confusingly, neither are related to the potentially thuggish Sea-buckthorn, Hippophae rhamnoides, which is... er... not actually a buckthorn at all.
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We had a lovely but soggy New Year in Brecon, one of my favourite places. Great walking, ancient and brooding scenery, Butty Bach.
Things got even wetter by the end of the week, which finished for me with a trip to Oxford for the Farming Conference. I managed to rescue the car from 6 inches of water in the Park and Ride but Caroline was less lucky here in Somerset, where the rain was so intense she couldn't get home and had to stay the night with friends.
In Oxford there was much gnashing of teeth about the crop failures the weather has brought. For many arable farmers it must be the last straw and, curiously, there's no government safety net to bail them out. Direct help like this is surely going to be a given as climate change begins to really bite, as no amount of clever farming is going to completely insulate farmers from its effect. Anyway, more of this anon.
There are - revealingly - two farming conferences held at the same time in Oxford. There's the Oxford Real Farming Conference and the Oxford Farming Conference. The ORFC is full of people like me, which is why I go to the more commercial and hard nosed OFC.
In one way the stories from the conference haven't changed over the years, and it's a pretty similar message from the People's Front of Judea as well as the Judean People's Front. I'm always so impressed by them, told by relatively small scale farmers who diversify and establish their own brand. This year we heard from Jim Shanks, for example, a Scottish dairy farmer who is also now Scotland's only tomato producer. Jim turned his least productive pasture into 4 acres of glass and grows tomatoes using heat from his biodigestor, which also supplies his fertiliser. We also learnt about gin and cafes, honey and seaweed. There were brilliant and inspiring speakers, doing well in spite of the system and creating genuinely sustainable if not regenerative businesses, which were a lot more resilient than when they started off. There's a focus on margins not yields these days partly driven by rocketing input prices, which is a good thing too.
Like farmers all over the world, all these projects had engagement with local communities, their customers, at their core. And our demands on farmers are getting more and more extreme and contradictory. We want cheap food, produced with no damage to the environment - in fact, produced while farmers enhance it.
This was the idea behind Michael Gove's Environmental Land Management Schemes ("ELMS"). After initial enthusiasm I've been sceptical, it turns out with good reason.
After Brexit we had the opportunity to redesign our farm subsidy system. In Europe, we had just been paying farmers on the basis of the acreage of land they farmed. This hadn't produced any tangible results either for the environment or to make our food supply more resilient - just the opposite.
Govey announced a sweeping change in policy to try to put this right - what's now known as the "agricultural transition". Farmers can now apply for "Sustainable Farming Incentives" (SFIs) or new and enhanced subsidies through the old Countryside Stewardship scheme. DEFRA's ambition for these is pretty lofty:
These reforms are essential to help us grow and maintain a resilient, productive agriculture sector over the long term and at the same time achieve our ambitious targets for the environment and climate, playing our role in tackling these huge, global challenges.
While we have long relied on farmers to produce the healthy, high-quality food for which they are so well known, too often production methods have been at the expense of nature rather than being symbiotic. We need farmers and other land managers to improve the natural environment, alongside food production, with environmental goods and services playing a key role in all farm businesses.
There were some pretty exciting upward revisions to some of the subsidies on offer announced at the Conference, not least a huge increase in the money paid to manage species rich grassland. I was impressed by the enthusiasm of the DEFRA staff, and their constructive attitude to farmers. There's been a huge amount of work involved in all this, and the detail is mind boggling. And yet...
I've always had three major reservations about ELMS:
1. We as taxpayers are paying UK farmers to produce food to high environmental standards. At the same time, our government is signing trade agreements encouraging, for example, Australians to import beef here with no equivalent requirements. We need some stick as well as carrot. Chicken producers here have made the calculation that knocking out birds for less than a pint of Butty Bach and polluting the local water system is more profitable than picking up some Sustainable Farming Incentives.
2. Govey promised that the system would be cheaper to administer than what happened before, which I imagine was how he sold it to the Treasury. It's obvs. incredibly complicated and nuanced, which is also a strength, but there's no budget for enforcement. There was an agricultural advisor at the Conference asking us to encourage farmers to sign up, who was equally keen to get applicants to bend the rules rather than break them, as it would spoil it for all of us. Jaw dropping. How any fraudulent claims are going to be weeded out is anyone's guess. I'm not sure the National Audit Office will be thrilled.
3. Our farms are not nature reserves. The clue's in the name. A weird front of the culture war has opened between the NFU, who think of farmers as food producers, and a lobby I'm going to lazily describe as rewilders. Surely the answer is somewhere in the middle, which is exactly what DEFRA's aim is. Sure, rewild low grade farmland or cover it with solar panels, but don't incentivise farmers to do it willy nilly. Similarly, don't encourage them to damage the environment by constantly demanding stupidly low prices for food. This isn't a binary argument about nature v. food production.
There have been three developments recently which have compounded my disquiet:
1. Steve Barclay seems like a nice enough bloke, but he is the 6th Secretary of State since 2018. We desperately need a consistent strategy, and this isn't the way to deliver it. Farming is an area where we need bipartisan agreement and long term thinking.
2. A year ago government was talking exclusively about sustainability and biodiversity loss, etc. A pretty green agenda. Now they're beginning to panic about food security and the impact of climate change. Which is it, chaps? The subsidy system is still all about the environment, and I'd bet when the U-turn comes it will be more handbrake than three point.
3. Advisors and civil servants are now talking about farmers using their least productive 5% of land for ELMS incentives. Is this such a good idea? Shouldn't we have a subsidy system which works for whole farms, which was the original thinking?
What is my recipe for success? I don't have a golden bullet, but this would be a good start:
1. Education. Not only of farmers and contractors on basic issue like hedge cutting, but also of society at large. We need to value horticulture and agriculture as professions and to understand the true cost of food production.
2. This implies proper measurement of the environmental damage caused to produce food. The farm director at ASDA was complaining about this at the Conference; he doesn't believe any of the carbon calculations he's presented with.
3. Aggressive enforcement by the Office of Environmental Protection. We need a much bigger stick pour encourager les autres if there aren't people on the ground monitoring farmers' behaviour. The farmers at the Conference were the good guys, but let's not kid ourselves - there are plenty who aren't.
4. Think of sustainable food production itself as a public good.
5. Use subsidies to embed good practice into farming across the board, not just the 5%.
6. Consistent policy and consistent funding. Easily said!
]]>Its defenders tell me it's a great berrying shrub. Well - er - yes, of course it is. Its (to my mind) odd looking white berries are gobbled by all sorts of larger birds. But then, so are the sloes, haws, berries and hips of our native species - which have culinary uses too. Yes, the Snowberry has teeny flowers which butterflies and bees visit - but then most native hedge species have too. And, of course, it doesn't have the bonus of being a foodplant for many caterpillars. According to my entomologist friend Richard it's only associated with 6 fly larvae and 6 moths.
The next virtues you see listed by nurseries trying to sell it as a hedge plant give you a clue as to why I don't get on with it. It's "vigorous and suckering, growing well even in low light levels".
When it gets going in a hedge, as it does around here, combined with the usual unsympathetic flailing and within a few years all the other species have disappeared. Here's a section of hedge down our lane, which used to be a predominantly Hazel/Blackthorn/Hawthorn/Field maple mix:
The biodiversity the hedge supports collapses. Snowberry is a hopeless hedge plant anyway as it's too spindly to make a proper barrier, and it certainly can't be laid. And if it can't make a proper barrier, it can't form a safe habitat for small mammals and birds. Snowberry hedges are no hedges at all.
It's taken over a 10m stretch of one of our hedges here, and once my hip replacement has settled in my number one job of the winter is to have it all out and replace it with something altogether more helpful and attractive. Can't wait.
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I went on a wet farm walk the other day with uber-enthusiast Derek Gow to see what the most recent arrivals were doing to the local landscape. The beavers had been busy, and in a good way. They were doing what they do in the headwaters of the River Frome, so not just helpful in terms of biodiversity gain but also protecting the good burghers of the town downstream from flooding.
The arguments about species re-introductions are complicated and well rehearsed. Even beavers, which seem such a clear win as herbivore ecosystem engineers, inflame passions. The hapless Therese Coffey is luke warm about re-introductions - but then she's luke warm about a lot of environmental initiatives. There are some which seem nuts to me (terrapins?!) but others which - on the face of it - make at least some sense.
We're never going to get our woodlands to a reasonable condition unless we massively reduce our plague of grey squirrels, for example. There are an estimated 2.7 million in the UK. I can't overstate the damage these wretched animals create, to new and established plants. Our woodlands are in a terrible state and we must do all we can to improve them. And greys have some spiffy predators, only recently extinct or endangered here, which would do them no good at all.
Recent experience in Ireland and follow up work in Scotland suggests pine martens could do the trick. Not only will they wack the greys, but the more agile Red Squirrels have long ago learnt to be wary of them. Their numbers increase as the greys' reduce. Even with pine martens there are causes for concern though; they do like a squirrel but they're generalist predators, potentially scoffing other animals we'd like to encourage.
I was less enthusiastic about the wildcats I met in a breeding cage on the farm walk. They'd find a grey a tasty snack, for sure, but I'm not sure about their interactions with the local moggie community. It's said they scare domestic cats, which consequently reduce their hunting range (the ecology of fear). A good thing for wildlife, as they're said to kill something like 270 million animals a year in the UK. On the other hand, although wildcats have enormous territories and seem not to colonise urban areas, they do mate with our domestic friends. Not such a good thing for wildlife. Or maybe go the whole hog and re-introduce lynx, who would dispatch the deer which are nearly as troublesome as the grey squirrel. It's complicated, and I'm definitely not an expert on any of this.
Regular readers of this blog will know, though, that I tend to bang on more about the good we can do by re-engineering landscapes from the bottom up. Less charismatic megafauna and more everyday flora. Perhaps that's what you might expect from a purveyor of plants! There's room for both approaches; we should be evidence driven rather than ideological about this - and, after all, most of us can't fit a family of beavers into our back garden.
Most renaturing efforts just aren't on the same scale that many rewilding enthusiasts are operating at, but that doesn't make them any less valuable. It's been a mantra for our business that well thought out interventions are really helpful however small they are. You can see the difference small projects - or even small changes in management - make, pretty much immediately.
That's certainly been our experience personally too; thought and hard work have demonstrably added massively to the biodiversity at Habitat Aid HQ. We're a couple of acres in a green desert of dairy farms, but wildlife seems to find us. Together with our friends up the road we've established two stepping stones for nature, and nature seems to love them.
It's been hard to find scientific papers to back up this kind of observation though, which is why this one out last week - looking at exactly this issue - is such a zinger. Key findings:
Meta-analysis of small interventions shows the greatest impact on pollinators abundance happens at 432m².
Interventions on farms were also studied, the positive effect of these small interventions decrease over larger farm sizes.
The paper also makes the points about smaller interventions being relatively ignored, and being both more practical and easier to encourage wider uptake. In terms of the specifics discussed there's nothing in it I'd disagree with either, including the proper management of hedgerows to produce a fantastic resource for pollinators (and many other animals - Ed.).
While we continue to be disappointed by policy makers, let's get on with the stuff that makes a difference - whatever that might be.
]]>Why?
For a start, bulbs are such a simple way to give pollinators forage in those crucial early days of Spring. As more and more of them fly earlier and earlier because of climate change, we have to increase the nectar and pollen available to them. There's not much flowering among our native flora in February and March; Prunus cerasifera, I suppose (if you count that as a native), and a few species like Coltsfoot ahead of the arrival of Blackthorn blossom.
Bulbs aren't just helpful early in the year. We have Autumn crocus in our meadow, just starting to flower now. They enjoy the short sward after a hay cut, and seem to naturalise freely. Some folk like Camassias in meadows - I'm not a huge fan of this combination although I do love them - but there are several native species which do look great in a meadow.
In particular we have native daffs, Wordsworth's subtle yet tough Narcissus pseudonarcissus lobularis. And, of course, Fritillaries. Fritallaria meleagris - the normal one as well as alba - is a stunning plant, and it loves our heavy wet clay. It's one of those native species which looks impossibly exotic. It has helped stretch the flowering window of a rather dull section of mostly grass, and it too spreads easily.
Native bulbs tend to be much smaller than some of the mammoth fancypants bulbs we've been dealing with this year, so easy to plant too.
There are some super native bulbs for woodland shade, of course, some of them tolerating really low light levels. I've been planting Ramsons in new hedge lines and under Medlar trees this year, as well as topping up our Bluebells (English, of course!) and Wood anemone. Wild garlic is incredibly useful; it likes very shady places and really covers the ground, without going completely nuts. If you have something which looks a bit like Wild garlic but is taking over, the chances are it's Three-cornered leek. I can't believe some places still sell this invasive allium. As for bluebells, be careful sourcing these too. If you're selling bluebell bulbs or seed you need a licence. Some customers prefer seed to bulbs, but it really does take ages to get going.
This year my well-informed nursery friend David has got us to try some bling. There are high stakes; he promises us "a wonderfully diaphanous display". I'm slightly dubious; tarty tulips and crocuses has been the extent of this kind of thing here in the past; the crocuses supplying an invaluable source of pollen in early Spring. David's blingy mixes have got all sorts in; an early summer flowering one has Alliums and camassia, for example, as well as late flowering daffs. It all sounds a bit weird but it could be great, particularly as we're filling in some boring grass around some apple trees. Some good bee plants in there too, and like all the bulbs we plant (and sell!), we've been super careful about where they're from and how they've been grown.
The blingy bulbs were chuffing HUGE compared to the native species we planted. It didn't seem fair to ask Danny to do most of the big ones - but on the other hand, he's keen and young. As for me, well, I earned a hot bath on Sunday night too.
]]>I always love going to France, not least because of the abundant insect life. The contrast with the UK couldn't be more obvious. I try to think of it as a delight rather than a depressing reflection on the state of nature here.
The wildflowers too are wonderful, although recently like many trees and shrubs showing drought and heat related stress. Last year's drought is claiming new victims, and this year has shown respite. On just this trip we endured three days of temperatures over 40 degrees, which was as punishing for us as it was for the local botany.
The French seem as ill prepared and unconcerned about climate change as we are. There were notionally water restrictions in a couple of the places we stayed which even the local councils flouted, in one case with a grand sprinkler display for a grass verge at noon every day. There are bizarrely few solar panels there, and I saw no thermal solar systems at all.
Anyway, the heat we had has strengthened my resolve to further future proof our garden in Somerset. Not just that, but also to think about ways to create dense shade around the house.
I haven't been thinking enough about creating canopies to sit and walk under. It's super obvious when you eat on a restaurant terrace in the evening heat what pruned limes or mulberries can do. My Persian silk tree and Pomegranate will need planting out this autumn, so that's a good start.
I need to be more brutal in my plant selection. The climbing roses struggling up the espaliers I built to frame the formal garden are going. Despite all my best efforts they look wretched; this year heavily infested with black spot after last year's mildew. Enough is enough. So out with the roses and in with some pleached Tilia x euchlora.
I also need more and better organised veg. I'm too relaxed about my "companion planting", which Caroline and Danny have started sniggering at. There are only so many nasturtiums and calendula a veg patch can bear. I'm going to double the veg I have, and put aside a cut flower bed so my Dahlias, Alstroemerias, chrysanths and sweet peas stop overwhelming the leeks and beetroot.
Here and around the orginal beds I'll be putting down gratuitous volumes of woodchip. We've found a good local supplier of biodigestate too, so perfect.
There's a section of one of our meadow areas* which has a mighty throng of horsetail threaded through it, so I've ordered a mix of early flowering daffs to naturalise it. We'll cut it from June. And while I was about it I ordered more native bulbs too.
It's good to be enthused with some projects to cure those post holiday blues. I'm not even going to be deflated by the government's Kafka-esque amendment to nutrient neutrality regulation. So disgraceful is it that - extraodinarily but perfectly reasonably - the RSPB branded Messrs. Coffey, Sunak and Gove "liars" in a social media post. So disgraceful that even the Chair of the useless and neutered Office for Environmental Protection wrote a strong letter of complaint to those concerned.
In the past, of course, the EU would just take the UK government to court/the cleaners over something like this. Michael Gove is right; environmental vandalism is another Brexit benefit, like the hour long wait at Poole to have our blue passports examined. Sunlit uplands...
Now out into the garden.
*Now cut, as yours should be!
]]>Anyway, it seems the more climate related disasters the corrupt-elite-paedophile-mainstream-media reports on, the the more the hashtag #Climatescam trends. It's pretty weird - but then I guess on Elon's planet X nothing should surprise me.
One of the most familiar type of #climatescam posts runs along the lines of:
Global warming? What a joke. Just look at the weather here this summer - it's wet and freezing! Open your eyes, sheeple! #climatescam #conspiracy #justweather
It struck me this kind of thing is very typical of the problems we have talking to people about biodiversity loss as well. The equivalent would be:
Biodiversity loss? What a joke. It's just a con! Just look at the bees/butterflies/etc here this summer.
This isn't just a Planet X thing; some media outlets have been peddling this kind of narrative over the years too (although recently even The Daily Mail has apparently moved from denial to a kind of grudging acceptance of what's going on).
The first common factor at work here is the change in people's understanding of what constitutes "normal" - what's been called "shifting baseline syndrome". "Normal" numbers of butterflies for my mum and dad walking through a field in the 50s would mean clouds of them. For me, my understanding of "normal" numbers would be very different. For the grandchildren, "normal" would mean just two or three. That these huge changes happen over generations make it very difficult for people to see the bigger picture. In the case of the weather in the UK in July, for example, while it was colder than the recent average it was warmer than the average July from 1961-1990. Which explains the hours shivering on a Devon beach as a child. This July also came hard on the heels of the warmest June since 1884, incidentally.
Our collective lived experience keeps changing as people keep dying, so we're constantly prone to under-estimating the extent of biodiversity loss or climate change. We forget what "normal" was. There have been some great campaigns recently focusing on things like insects on windscreens to try to get this point across. When I was a kid on those marathon drives to Paignton I remember stopping for my mum to clean the windscreen because there were so many. Sharing that experience is a great way of ramming home the point about the collapse in invertebrate numbers. We can relate to a dirty windscreen much better than a number.
Not only does our lived experience keep changing, but it's also very specific and often unrepresentative of the bigger picture. This doesn't just relate to variation in the weather. If I didn't know better I might think bee populations are doing really well. We have lots more here than 10 years ago, but not because national or regional populations are bouncing back - because we've worked hard to help them by establishing bee friendly habitat. Try as we might though, we can't just pull up a metaphorical drawbridge. "Our" bees aren't immune to what's going on in the wider world. They're screwed if it's too hot to fly or the plants they rely on start to disappear.
It's clearly nonsense, too, to think that their numbers over a few years constitute a long term trend. Butterfly numbers in the UK go up and down year on year, depending on local conditions and weather. Some species - Red Admirals in 2023 - will do well in some years.* Today's stupidly short news cycle means we're always far too keen to jump to conclusions based on the short term.
These issues are all too easily exploited by the counter-science brigade. I wonder what motivates them? Why are they in denial? I think there's an element of fear about this. It's so much easier to believe biodiversity loss and climate change are some sort of mad conspiracy and don't in fact exist at all. It's beyond weird that for some people what we're faced with is so much less real than those chemtrails and UFOs.
To some degree we're all guilty of putting our fingers in our ears, screwing our eyes tight shut and yelling La La La when we're confronted by the enormity of what's going on. It's natural or perhaps even essential for our mental health. What we can't do is deny it.
*Thank goodness, incidentally, that this summer was nothing like last year. Droughts are terrible for butterflies.
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The emphasis at Groundswell is on talks and there's a full schedule in multiple venues over the show's two days. The quality of the speakers was excellent, and there was an engaging range of topics on offer, including the unexpected (Kelly Jowett from Rothamstead on Carabid beetles).
The show attracts high profile speakers* like Natural England's Tony Juniper. It's such a delight to hear from proper experts. At Chalk Valley History Festival I was captivated by Alex Langlands' lecture on Old Sarum. Fantastic; enthusiasm in spades, great communicator, an academic at the top of his game.
Groundswell is relatively young but growing expedentially, which is of itself hugely encouraging; I'd recommend it to anyone with an interest in the natural world. There were lots of exhibitors of course, ranging from Conservation NGOs to agricultural machinery makers. It was good to meet not just farmers I know, but also catching up with NGOs we work with and folk like Rainbow, whose exciting new biodegrable tree shelters we'll be selling this bare root season. I had a good natter too with PTES's indefatigable hedge hero Megan Gimber.
It's always so nice actually going to a physical gathering, and I'd say there was an upbeat and enthusiastic buzz around the show, in contrast to so many virtual events or "debates" on social media. The punters were a very mixed bunch but there were some pretty high powered people there. The farmers there I knew have a lot of acreage between them (and a lot of wildflower meadows!), and - for example - I found myself learning more about floodplain meadows sitting next to Guy Singh-Watson. It really did feel very encouraging and positive, in contrast with some of the stuff I've been reading recently.
I'm increasingly gobsmacked by the egos on display and the blue on blue attacks in the media space between people ostensibly fighting the same fights against biodiversity loss and climate change. It's nuts, and it must stop. What we're all trying to do is urgent, critical, and really, really difficult. There isn't the time to deal with intolerance or be led astray by short term commercial logic, and alienating people or peddling a particular ideology is hopeless. Particularly without effective government leadership we need everyone on board - quickly - and a holistic, evidence based approach to putting this stuff right.
Most people at Groundswell were trying to do the right thing - and in a practical way. The fact they represented a broad church was very encouraging. There are always going to be disagreements, but everyone was fundamentally trying to do the right thing.
I guess it was slightly disconcerting to see the way the related consultancy industry is sprouting up. As usual it's where the money is, I suppose. We do need to start acknowledging and rewarding expert practitioners better.
And talking of which, here's a photo from my site visit on Friday. Just the sort of project we should learn from and celebrate.
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Botany Army
We were nearly 200 strong in Oxford, and spent time on manoeuvres in meadows around the city as well as under the disturbing stare of the reconstructed Oxford Dodo at the museum. I learnt a lot in terms of specifics, but I guess the bigger lessons were depressingly familiar.
The oft quoted figure of 97% loss of our wildflower meadows is an ancient guess; the real figure is almost certainly higher. I'd love to give you a more accurate estimate but we don't even have an inventory of which meadows remain (the Partnership does keep track of the flood plain meadows though). Meadows remain largely unprotected unless they're designated as SSSIs*, which seems to be increasingly difficult. They are regularly lost to neglect, development, tree planting and the plough.
There's no great financial incentive for landowners to establish meadows. Current subsidies are poor or non-existent. Species rich grassland sequesters fabulous quantities of carbon, but it's currently so under-acknowledged in policy it doesn't even have a carbon code. While all the hydrologists know how important it is as part of natural flood prevention, DEFRA apparently does not. There are still huge questions over IHT treatment for farms which have switched away from food production and into natural capital schemes.
You might think that biodiversity net gain would be a great way to encourage more meadow creation, but apparently there's another policy problem here. It's given a low rating on the DEFRA 4.0 metric because apparently wildflower meeadows are difficult to create. Pontential schemes are therefore discouraged. Brilliant.
Concentrating at Christchurch
There were plenty of people at the conference who ARE busy making new meadows or restoring old ones. New meadow establishment and maintenance is actually pretty straight forward, but you do need to know what you're doing and have access to good quality seed or green hay. A new or restored site isn't going to be a patch on an old meadow, but it's a good start.
I was hugely encouraged too by the people I met from the farming industry like Andy Rumming, a beef farmer in Wiltshire, and Tim Field, of the Northeast Cotswold Farm Cluster. There are ways to profitably incorporate wildflower meadows into farming systems, even without a coherent government subsidy system. There is - of course - a lot to like about them as a farmer, not least because of the wonderful soil structure they promote and the hay they make.
After Oxford, on to the Chelsea Flower Show. It's an event which feels more and more bonkers, but the RHS generously provides space for some NGOs to display there which is gold dust for them. The Bumblebee Conservation Trust's senior education officer, Andy Benson, did a great job on the stand, which was all about the Trust's "Bee The Change" campaign (Geddit?) and which we helped sponsor.
BBCT CEO Gill Perkins and friend
I've been helping out for the Trust at shows for a few years now, and it's amazing what a sea change there has been among gardeners. Even 10 years ago some of the Trust's key messages to them were pretty controversial; now they're normal practice. Urban and suburban gardens are incredibly valuable oases for bumblebees and solitary bees.
A lot of the punters we chatted to were worried about seeing small numbers of bees so far this year. I am too, as were the entomlogists at the Oxford Conference. The cold spring has meant that it's too early to be sure, but we know that butterfly numbers collapsed after the 1976 drought, and I worry that bumblebees might have been similarly affected. The intervening 47 years haven't been kind to pollinators, whose populations are now less resilient. Fingers crossed.
I'm pleased to report though that the wildflower roof and meadows here are humming, thank goodness. We're seeing more new species and no apparent fall in invertebrate numbers - but then again, many of them have as close to optimum conditions here as we can make. Fingers double crossed.
*Sites of Special Scientific Interest
]]>It's not just cultivated fruit trees which offer this great bounty. Flailing hedges is an incredible waste of a wonderful resource, not least because pollinated flowers mean hedgerow fruit too. As a learner beekeeper I was always told that when the Blackthorn was out I could stop worrying about my colonies starving.
Unflailed hedges should be groaning with blossom, from February to midsummer. We try and encourage all these species in our hedges here, as well as including them in the bare root hedge packs we sell. The flowering succession they offer is as attractive as it is invaluable, giving reliable and diverse nectar and pollen sources for pollinators. And not just a huge range of pollinators; I was recently fascinated to learn that dormice feasted off Honeysuckle nectar!
Prunus cerasifera starts flowering in February and the sequence ends with the heady scent of Hawthorn, the May tree, before the summer flowering species kick in.
Prunus cerasifera and friend, February
You can create an even longer flowering window using fruit bushes and trees, from almonds (an honorary fruit tree for this exercise!) and apricots to medlars, which at the time of writing are yet to show. We have fruit trees in flower here from February into June.
Medlar in June
Early flowering trees are increasingly helpful. Climate change means that Queen bumblebees emerge from hibernation earlier and earlier, for example, and struggle to find food; some species are flying all year round now.
Hedgerow Blossom Sequence (Common Species)
Prunus cerasifera, Cherry plum
Prunus spinosa, Blackthorn
Malus sylvestris, Crab apple
Prunus avium, Wild cherry
Crataegus monogyna, Hawthorn
Viburnum opulus, Guelder rose
Euonymus europaeus, Spindle
Cornus sanguinea, Dogwood
Ligustrum vulgare, Wild privet
Rosa spp., Roses
Lonicera periclymenum, Honeysuckle
Rubus fruticosus, Blackberry
Fruit Tree Blossom Sequence
There's of course a lot of overlap here (and no mention of fruit bushes!), but this will give you a general idea!
Almond
Apricot
Peach
Damson, Gage, Plum and Bullace
Crab apple
Cherry (inc. mazzards)
Apple and pear (inc. Perry pears)
Quince
Medlar
*technically non-native, but a really helpful archeophyte and a close relation to Blackthorn.
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Ray and Andrei in the grading shed
Ray is at the sharp end of things. He's an industry veteran who has set up on his own after many years at Wyevale Nurseries, one of the biggest nurseries in the UK. He has seen some pretty grim times for growers of native plants here, who have spent most of the last two decades either going bust or at best burning unwanted stock at the end of the season. Cheap imports and uninformed and unreliable buyers have killed them.
Now things are very different.
When I set up Habitat Aid in 2008 a lot of people in the industry thought our usp - UK origin and grown native plants and seeds - was a cross so heavy to bear that it would crush us. Consumers didn't generally care where their plants came from, but even if they did they couldn't easily find out.
There's now huge demand for native plants for woodland and hedging, particularly plants grown here from UK origin seed. Hurrah! Even DEFRA has caught up with the need for hedging, hugely increasing grants for planting and targets for new hedges.
Brexit has made plant imports trickier, and people are more sensitive now to messages about plant health and the need to maintain local plant populations as much as possible. This is all terrific, but where on earth are all these new plants coming from?
You can quickly see who's actually growing these plants in the UK, and there aren't that many nurseries doing it. The Forestry Commission now gives capital grants to growers, which is HUGELY helpful, but it's taking time to gear up production. It's exciting seeing new community nurseries springing up too, but they can't get close to meeting the kind of demand there is nationally. And as for the commercial supply of seed...
Climate change is making things even more difficult. 2022 was a challenging season for established growers, let alone for someone in their first growing season. Ray was well able to deal with it; he has expertise, a lot of good ground, water, kit and skilled labour. Others were less lucky.
We visited RJ Trees and Hedging at their base near Ross-on-Wye last week to hear more. Ray has ambitious targets - he wants to have 5 million plants in cultivation. Since we've been trading there hasn't been a new grower on the scene approaching this size, and it's beyond exciting that demand is there to support these plans. He's Plant Healthy certified too, which is great.
We're really looking forward to doing business with him, and relieved to find such a good new source of just the kind of plants we need. Hedges are such an important habitat for us to promote. We'll be back to see him in the summer to see how next season's plants are growing on and have a ride in his pick-up.
]]>He was as on message then about the desperate state of nature in the UK as he is now, and about the importance of native plants in particular. Depressing and belated, yes, but it's fantastic to see this message getting across to people.
The impending publication of the catchily named Botanical Society for Britain and Ireland's UK Plant Atlas amplifies both these points.* It's an important and ambitious piece of reearch, which shows in stark numbers the catastrophic recent decline of our native flora.
Banging on about the connection between this and the collapse in insect and other animal numbers has generally never appealed to commercial concerns, which are keener to sell gardeners plastic grass, chemicals and hand cream. Developers aren't even putting solar panels on new builds, let alone landscaping them properly. Is biodiversity net gain ("BNG") really going to help? We're involved in a couple of really good schemes, but without effective oversight there will be a race to the bottom. There's already evidence of people cheating the system by trashing sites before they're surveyed.
On a landscape scale there's the elephantine connection with our craving for cheap food, of course. Let's just say here that society - not least the government - still seems in denial about the damage this has caused/is causing. It's a massively inconvenient truth.
Our understanding of the importance of plants has also suffered from the excitement about rewilding too. Beavers, yes - a helpful keystone species. And I like the idea of lynx re-introduction, for example. This kind of thing isn't going to be the magic bullet some peeps suggest, though. As part of a more general rebalancing it has value and comes with attractive PR, sure, but these are species which either largely or totally disappeared from the UK hundreds of years before the crisis we're in now.
More broadly, the effects of agricultural abandonment on biodiversity are still being debated. It's complicated, but they apparently vary a good deal. What does seem increasingly certain, however, is that it takes restoration efforts and many years to bring back biodiversity to the levels you would see in a reference ecosystem.
At the risk of stating the blinding obvious, our native wildlife depends on our native plants. It's not just butterflies and moths which are dependent on them, but perhaps they're the most obvious species. The Brown Hairstreak has no chance hereabouts as the Blackthorn hedges they'd lay their eggs on are flailed to oblivion. No Buckthorn, no Yellow Brimstones.
Who would have guessed, though, the story behind the psychadelically coloured Six-Spot Burnet moth? Its food plant is Birdsfoot trefoil, a source of cyanide, so it advertises itself as a nasty tasting snack. And from the show on Sunday, who knew dormice harvested nectar from honeysuckle to feed their young? You couldn't possibly guess at the kind of complex relationships our wildlife has with our native fauna.
This is one reason why climate change is such a threat to biodiversity. Plants can't up and move to escape it. We can substitute failing native species with more drought resistant non-natives, but they're just not going to do what our ecosystems need them to do.
Our imaginations are such feeble things that it's difficult to grasp the magnitude of what's going on. Climate change and biodiversity loss aren't things which happen once in a generation, or once every couple of hundred years. I've been catching up on our family history recently, and managed to track one strand of posh folk back to before the Norman conquest. According to my records, there are 33 generations of them over the last 1000 years. What we face now would be completely alien to all of them.
We're at a massively significant moment which we can rationally appreciate, yet many of us still seem utterly indifferent or reluctant to do anything at all about it. Even in our own back gardens. Our efforts to tackle this crisis - such as they are - are clumsy, badly resourced, and often badly informed.
Folk bang on about woodland cover in the UK, for example, which isn't quite the point. The number of trees here isn't so much the problem - it's the terrible state of the woodlands we have. We treat them nearly as badly as we treat another key asset, our hedges, and that's saying something. How often do I come across thousands of recently planted trees half dead from want of care, woodland with no understory or stygian plantations of Sitka? Don't get me started on hedge management; how stupid, stupid, stupid are we about this, and what an easy win this could be.
And what about grassland? Everyone talks about 97% of our wildflower meadows being lost. This is the same figure I was parroting 20 years ago. Just looking at our own customers, there must be literally thousands of acres of new and restored meadows created over the intervening years, but as fast as they're made others are lost. Existing meadows - some hundreds of years old - are mostly unprotected. Others disappear not under concrete, trees or the plough, but, like hedges, due to poor management.
Look at the state of our waterways; even a high profile case like this is a fiasco. Wetlands? We're still burning grouse moors, and extracting peat for horticultural use as it's "phased out".
The most successful habitat creation projects I've seen over the last 15 years have involved the careful restoration of flora. The excellent Bumblebee Conservation Trust have even measured the impact of their grassland restoration projects on bumblebee numbers and diversity as it's so obvious, even after a short period. Careful creation/restoration and management of landscape features like meadows, woodlands, orchards, ponds and hedgerows brings massive and palpable gains.
Everyone - particularly funders - needs to understand that successful "renaturing" projects need ongoing care. Schemes like ELMS or BNG need oversight on the ground. It's not just a question of throwing some seed down, having a planting day, reintroducing some photogenic megafauna, or just waiting to see what happens when you do nothing at all.
Our efforts to try to help often need to be so much better directed. They should be about achieving actual results rather than feelgood factor. Why are people still sowing non native "meadow" seed across the countryside? How many times do I see tree planting schemes on rare unimproved grassland or peat bog? Why plant inappropriate species and sizes of trees? Our failure to understand or inform about this kind of thing, through subsidy or directly, is incredible. People need more reliable evidence based advice about what they should be doing, and then they need to follow it.
There's a desperate shortage of UK origin plant material - seeds and plants - to start to replace some of what we've lost. We need more production and more small scale growers and harvesters, who can connect with and supply local projects and communities. We must keep planting and sowing rarer native species as appropriate. There's a tendency to stick with the more easily grown and hence available species as they're cheaper.
We do need to try and build more resilience into our landscape as the climate worsens, but let's supplement these native plants with wildlife friendly drought resistant non-natives, not give up on them.
We can't look to politicians to sort all this out. Even if you trusted them to - and frankly I don't - this is completely beyond them. We need to flood money and resources into education and research, while trying to effect massive societal change.
I feel much less eccentric now holding these kinds of views than I did when I met Sir David, but - weirdly - I still feel like an oddity. Why aren't we ALL worrying about this stuff? Attitudes are changing, but not fast or dramatically enough.
*We've also helped fund this, by the way - it's depressingly difficult to find money for this kind of project.
]]>The state of the hedges around here - such that are left - is pretty typical of what I see around the country. Some are allowed to grow out into lines of trees or even deliberately destroyed, but more generally they're degraded and even destroyed by poor cutting. It's not just that poor management destroys all the fruit, berries, nuts and blossom from a hedge; it has a detrimental long term impact too.
My social media feeds are regularly filled with examples of hedges which have been really massacred. Locally though the problem is less obvious.
For starters, the hedges here are flailed every year - not in the three year rotation Natural England recommends. Why not? No-one can explain it to me. If they were cut annually but incrementally that would be a modest improvement - i.e. to allow a little of the previous season's growth to remain. The idea is to take a very aggressive cut every few years - again in sections - and start the process off again.
But they're not cut like this. The contractors cut them to the same height, sometimes only just over 1m, year after year. This causes plants to terminate in tortured fists.
After a while regrowth stops. Plants just give up. Sometimes you end up with a row of what looks like toothbrushes or, if the hedge is wider, over time it will lose its density and base. Any new growth is going to be on the outside edges of the hedge, which then grows out in a loose leggy way before it meets the flail.
The hedge hollows out; it becomes useless, both in its original function and as a resource for wildlife. Ultimately the hedge plants disappear and non-structural and short lived species like snowberry and bramble are all that's left - sometimes not even that, as this photo shows.
This is the inside of the hedge along our lane - I use the word "hedge" loosely. It has lost most of its value - for carbon sequestration and flood control, as a barrier and windbreak, and as a safe corridor and rich habitat for all sorts of wildlife.
So I thought sorting out our section of it could be 2022/2023's hedgelaying project.
I've always laid a few metres of hedge every year since learning how to two decades ago (seemingly fewer and fewer metres, as it's such a good workout!) so this 25m section was perfect for an old bloke. We must have about a kilometre of hedge around the house now, some old, some new, so it's a good length to be tackling from this point of view too.
Hazel is incredibly easy and rewarding to work with, so it wasn't as knackering as it might have been - the worst thing was clearing out the hedgeline before I started, and then I also had to coppice a couple of big mangled hawthorns as well as some Hazel. Hazel doesn't just send new stems up from the pleachers; it also roots where laid stems touch the ground. I had extra motivation too, as I discover we have what look like dormice nests in a couple of boxes we put up next to it.
There was a bit of dogwood along with the hazel, but that was about it once I'd got rid of all the dead blackthorn and hawthorn, congested hazel and bramble, and massively reduced the biggest Clematis vitalba I have ever seen. You can see how much brash I had to cut out. I chucked it out along the fence, which once we've tidied up we'll leave as a dead hedge.
I lay in a kind of Dorset style, so pretty rustic, but this is going to be an absolutely stonking hedge; broad and dense. There's a section which is a bit too broad, to be honest! I'll post photos over the next few years to show you how it all develops. I can promise you, regrowth will be rapid and impressive!
Although it didn't really need it, I've now gapped it up with a few extra plants - as much to add some diversity back in as anything else. I've had some Common buckthorn, Dog rose, Field maple and hawthorn left over from our hedge plant stock, so used a few of these. There are very few trees in the hedgelines hereabouts so I've planted a couple of Wild cherries too, with the intention of letting them grow out. I'll see what comes up in the newly exposed strip I've cleared next to the renovated hedge, but I could plant some woodland bulbs along here in the autumn. I'm thinking Ramsons and bluebells.
I'm already looking forward to seeing catkins where they've never been allowed to flower before, and hazel nuts. My hedge won't win any prizes, but I'm very pleased with my efforts. I think the dormice will be too.
]]>The woods where we walked are largely a monoculture of Sweet chestnut coppice, a landscape which would have been familiar to woodsmen a thousand years ago, but which is much - MUCH - less common now. The Sweet Track was built from coppiced wood five thousand years before that! Woodland was a valued asset, and mostly highly managed as coppice or wood pasture. Some of the oldest trees we have are veteran coppiced plants or pollards - they're not difficult to spot.
Wood was treated like any other sort of crop. The strong straight timber coppicing produces has all sorts of uses, particularly for construction. Hazel for wattles or oak for structural beams, for example. It's also a quick way to produce easily harvestable firewood; the stools produces new poles very quickly. Sweet chestnuts are reckoned to be harvested every 20 to 30 years. These coppices would often be dotted with an occasional oak or other timber tree, which would be harvested much less frequently.
Unlike English oak, Sweet chestnut is an archaeophyte; the Romans had all sorts of uses for it and introduced it here. Chestnut coppicing enjoyed a boom more recently too - in the 18th and 19th century, when the rods were used as hop poles. Today, these rods make fantastic water resistant stakes either as whole rounds or split (we sell them for use with preplanted coir rolls for riverbank work) - as well as fencing.
Coppiced woodland is managed in sections, or "cants", to ensure sustainable rotation. As each section is opened up to the sun there's a dramatic change in the understorey as dormant wildflower seed springs into life there. This in turn brings new and varied insect, mammal and bird populations. After five years or so the canopy closes and the flora and fauna change again.
]]>“Well-drained but moisture retentive soil, sheltered position in full sun”. The Shangri-La of gardening. A mythical utopia where any plant will flourish. How many times have we read about a fruit tree that sounds great on paper, but then we find that phrase, guaranteed to strike dread into the 99% of gardeners who don’t have such ideal conditions to hand. Even if we do have the good fortune to have a favourable soil and aspect, much like the pool-side sun loungers at the hotel, the best spots have already been taken and we are left trying to spread out our towels in a cold, damp corner, exposed to the wind, or in deep shade.
At its heart, gardening is all about us imposing our will on nature. Mowing lawns, weeding, pruning and training - tasks which say that we are the ones in charge, masters of the universe. Even in the smallest of gardens we will have a range of plants from the four corners of the world, plants which would never grow side by side in the wild, but which we position together because it pleases the eye. Most gardening advice will also apply this egocentric view to growing in less than ideal conditions, proving advice on how to manipulate nature to allow us to do what we want. Improving heavy soils with organic matter, mulching dry sites and planting windbreaks are all excellent ways we can improve the hand we have been dealt, and broaden the range of plants we can grow. However the focus for this month is selecting the right plant in the first place - fruit trees and bushes naturally thrive in a wide range of soils and conditions, and if we can choose a plant which enjoys the conditions we have, the less we will need to intervene and the greater the chances of success.
Shade is the probably the most common problem for fruit growers. We all want to grow the best tasting fruit, and that generally means the sweetest- and it is direct sunlight which lets the plant form those crucial sugars. Any position where the plant gets less than 8 hours of full sun during the middle of summer is going to impact on the quality of the fruit. Instead, we need to turn our attention to the slightly acidic fruits, where this lack of sunlight will not be noticeable. Gooseberries, rhubarb, red and white currants will all do extremely well in almost total shade, and the fruit will be just as good as that grown in full sun. Indeed, gooseberries much prefer a heavier, damp spot, so if the soil doesn’t dry out they will not be as affected by the dreaded mildew which can spoil a whole crop. Rhubarb too will enjoy a damp shady position, and be much less inclined to ‘bolt’ and put its energy into producing a flower stem rather than the succulent young stems.
For top fruit trees which will take shade, again we need to look at varieties which produce naturally less sweet fruit. Cooking apples, culinary plums and damsons will all do well, and some such as the cooking apple ‘Lord Derby’ will happily set good crops in damp, cold spots with no direct sun. For dry shade, which is probably one of the trickiest sites, look no further than a morello cherry. Trained on a north wall, they will prosper and set excellent crops. Leave the fruit until the last possible moment for a depth of flavour which has to be tasted to be believed.
Wind is another issue, and one which can seriously harm a fruit tree and limit the crop. Cold spring winds can burn fragile blossom and foliage, as well as making it harder for pollinators to fly. The traditional advice is to plant a windbreak or shelter belt, but this is seldom a viable proposition for the home gardener. Instead, we need to be much more imaginative in ways to lessen the wind’s impact. Leaving neighbouring trees and shrubs unpruned can help, as can growing a hardy climber such as honeysuckle up a piece of trellis. It’s worth remembering that the goal is to filter the wind a little, not block it entirely. A complete windblock such as a solid fence or a row of evergreen conifers can actually be counter-productive, as the wind will funnel around or over them and cause more damage elsewhere. Select self-fertile varieties of top fruit, to reduce the journeys required by pollinating insects to get a good fruit set. Most plums and damsons will naturally withstand quite a lot of wind without impairing the crop.
Gardening in damp, heavy clay is a definite challenge. No fruit tree will do well in completely water-logged soil, as it deprives the roots of oxygen and encourages fungi and other pathogens which will attack the tree. If your soil is very wet, you really do need to consider options such as installing drainage or mound planting. However it is not all bad news - clay soils are extremely rich in minerals and conserve moisture better than thin sandy soils, so you should be less troubled by nutrient deficiencies or drought. Gooseberries, blackcurrants and raspberries will all appreciate a cool moist root run. Most apples will do well in a heavy soil, especially the scab-resistant varieties such as Ellison’s Orange, Sunset, Pitmaston Pineapple and Rosemary Russet, so are ideal in areas of high rainfall or on heavy soils. Quince trees will also tolerate wetter soils than most other top fruit.
At the other end of the scale are the thin, sandy or stoney soils. Here, regular mulching and feeding will be invaluable in retaining moisture and providing sufficient nutrients for plants to thrive. Strawberries will appreciate the good drainage, which makes them less prone to fungal diseases such as botrytis, but they will need a high Potash feed through the summer to produce the best crop. Both grapevines and figs will do very well in poor soils - they have extensive root systems which will search far and wide for food and water. Indeed, a thin soil will help stop them from putting all their energy into lush new growth, and concentrate on the matter in hand - providing delicious fruit.
For top fruit trees, the best advice is to go for a more vigorous rootstock than you think you need. Dwarfing stocks tend to be very shallow rooting, so can be badly affected by drought. Choosing a tree grafted into a semi-vigorous rootstock will mean the root systems are much deeper, tapping into water reserves far underground. Keeping the growth in check by regular pruning, rather than relying on a dwarfing rootstock, will give you a much happier, healthier and ultimately, more productive, tree.
]]>Ben Goldsmith commented on it:
Planting non-native, exotic plants in the back garden is really naff (who wants a garden that looks like a municipal roundabout?). Imported plants also... do nothing for wildlife!
Ben was a non-executive board member at DEFRA and is a leading proponent of rewilding; I think it's fair to say he's one of the most influential voices in the current debates about nature in the UK. It makes this comment doubly surprising.
First off, not all non-native plants sold here are grown abroard. And many "native" plants are imported. Ben has conflated two separate issues. We should - absolutely - all try to buy UK grown plants, and not just because of the risk of disease. This has been a crusade of mine for years. With luck this will lead to the revival of UK growing nurseries - it's almost impossible currently, for example, to buy UK grown bulbs.
Secondly, I'm not sure I understand which plants Ben had in mind. What is a "non-native" plant? "Native" and "non-native" are slippery definitions unless you're a botanist. Perhaps he was thinking about the kind of annual bedding you used to see all over the place - less so now. There are all sorts of non-natives, of course, many of them very wildlife friendly, as opposed to Ben's roundabout.
Is Prunus cerasifera "non-native"? It's probably a Roman introduction, so technically an archaeophyte. Or how about Horse chestnuts and Snowdrops, much more recently introduced neophytes? Fruit trees are all "non-native" - they are grafted cultivars - yet orchards are amazing biodiversity hotspots.
More recent arrivals can be more or less exotic. We have a fantastic native Echium here, for example, Echium vulgare (Viper's bugloss, photo above), which is the most amazing nectar source for a wide range of pollinators. There are other Echiums scattered around the Mediterranean; the closely related Echium pininana has made it to Cornwall, where it's a familiar garden escapee.
We've underplayed the importance of native plant species for our wildlife for too long, it's true. Wildlife NGOs and commercial interests alike have been guilty of this. It was one of the reasons I set up Habitat Aid in 2008.
Generally speaking, the longer a plant has been here, the more animal species are dependent on it. These are mostly invertebrates, whose larval stages eat food plants like oak and willow. An estimated 2300 species depend on oak trees. Because these plants support large invertebrate populations they're also associated with lots of animals further up the food chain - bats and birds, for example.
Specialist invertebrates also rely on specific native species for homes. Some depend on only one species for nectar or pollen, like the Hawthorn mining bee. Further up the food chain there is a raft of small mammals and birds which depend on native plants for food and protection. A recent survey found over 2000 species in a 90m length of hedgerow.
Even pollinators tend to prefer native plants for pollen and nectar when given the choice. Recent RHS research showed just this (broadly speaking, the further away the origin of a plant species, the less attractive it is as a nectar source). This - and the food plants and habitat they provide - is one of the reasons why wildflower meadows are so much more beneficial to wildlife than pictorial meadows.
...what wildlife actually needs in our gardens - now more than ever - is a combination of native and helpful non-native plants.
While I admire the beauty of many of our native plants - like Viper's bugloss - and love planting them to create habitat, lots are er... less exciting looking. The buckthorns (above) are a good case in point - fantastic for wildlife, but with an altogether lower key aesthetic appeal. We have native plants in our formal and forest gardens here, but I'm always going to have a majority of non-natives in these areas; that's sort of the point. After all, I've got exclusively native plants everywhere else - on our green roof and in our hedges, meadow areas, and the pond.
Some of the more or less exotic non-native species actually have an increasingly important place in the ecosystems in our back gardens, to help our native fauna battle climate change. Why is this?
Many are increasingly valuable to pollinators. These animals are increasingly active all year round as it becomes warmer. The Buff-tailed bumblebee is just one example, now fully active all year round in urban areas. Which native plants are in flower for it to forage from in winter? There aren't any. Bombus terrestris depends on "exotics" like mahonia, sarcococca, Arbutus unedo (the Strawberry tree, above), or Winter flowering cherry - you get the idea. Suburban gardens with plants like this are great habitat for invertebrates. In more rural settings, the Prunus cerasifera I mentioned before is an increasingly important plant, flowering ahead of its close native relation, Blackthorn.
Berberis cultivars and cotoneasters rub shoulders with native plants like Rowan and Hawthorn in any top 10 of berrying plants. Unused fruit is a boon for invertebrates including butterflies and wasps, as well as small mammals and birds. It could be hedgerow fruit, or it could be from cultivated trees and bushes. I doubt dormice notice the difference between hazelnuts and cobnuts.
Climate change presents a fundamental challenge to our native flora. It's happening so quickly that plants have no chance to adapt to it. Many species will at best endure terrible stress as they try to cope with a temperature range of 50 degrees and alternate spells of flood and drought. It's terrible to think of it, but species which are common today might disappear. We have to build resilience into the landscape.
This is much more easily done in the garden. Introduce as much diversity as you can. My top ten plants for bees has all sorts, for example. Even non-gardeners can grow plants from hotter climes like Rosemary and Lavender, or Stachys Byzantina. Easily bought as British grown. And you can hardly argue they're naff.
]]>People have bought seeds and plants by mail order since Victorian times. I love this photo from the 1940s of the packing shed at one of our suppliers, RV Roger, in Yorkshire. They had a section of the platform at Pickering Station reserved for their stock, and sent plants all around the country by train. They still use barley straw, but not handmade wooden boxes!
Nurseries' catalogues were elaborate and informative, and as transport links improved and in the absence of competition from imports, growing nurseries thrived. Scott's Nurseries, down the road from us at Merriott, were a renowned fruit tree grower, and their catalogue was as much a guide to growing fruit trees as it was a price list!
This was a business which should be perfect for the internet. Selling online has certainly reduced costs and massively increased choice for the consumer; there are, however, potential pitfalls to avoid.
The biggest issue is knowing where the plants and seed you see advertised are actually from. Even after Brexit, most sold here are imported. Growers in countries like Holland and Italy operate on a large scale and have natural advantages in the availability of water/land/funding, or in climate or cheap labour. They're very efficient and mostly grow great plants, although there's obviously an environmental cost to growing them abroad and importing them. Plant imports can also bring pests and disease, and there are other good ecological reasons for sourcing native plants as locally as possible.
There aren't actually many growers or seed harvesters left in the UK. Scott's, for example, closed in 2009. Mercifully, there are new outfits setting up, like Tom Adams for example - another of our suppliers, in Shropshire - but still far too few. As for domestic commercial sources of seed...
So why can you find so many people selling seeds and plants online? Many sellers are just that - like us, they're not actually growing anything. They buy from wholesale growers and sell them on. Some - also like us - "drop ship" - i.e. supply plants directly from the growers. This is a key part of what we do, helping promote a growing community of small growers. Some retailers, however, strongly imply they're growing stuff themselves, while actually they just buy in from all over the place.
DEFRA don't exactly help the consumer with this. If you import a tree from, say, Italy, and leave it sitting in your nursery here for a few weeks, you can describe it as British grown. This won't tell you anything about a plant's provenance either. If it's a species native to the UK you might want it to be grown from seed from wild populations here (we think you should!). At least you should know where it's from to be able to make an informed choice. This is particularly true for wildflower seed, for which sellers don't need to disclose its origin at all! Knowing where your plants are from means you know how as well as where they were grown. I don't like buying plants grown in peat, for example.
Things get even more complicated as many plant growers also buy in stock, so you can't just assume that they grow everything they sell. Rogers are a good case in point - they grow lots of their own plants, but also buy in some ornamentals from good quality growers on the continent (they also have an outstanding biosecurity regime, before you ask!). Whether you're buying plants from a garden centre or online retailer, it it's not clear where they're from always ask.
There is generally paperwork available which will tell you where a plant or seed is from, but it can be an exhausting process trying to track it down. Some of our suppliers send us order confirms even specifying which field in their nursery stock was grown in, for example, but others don't. There's a plant passporting system run by DEFRA which tells you who the nursery is you bought the plant from, which is some help, and which is designed to make sure it's traceable. We're members; it's a simple but helpful scheme.
There are some terrible bandits selling seeds online. To do this you should have a seed marketing licence from DEFRA, which frankly means nothing. Many sellers don't even have this.
In practical terms, you have to trust the person you're dealing with. Not just in terms of the quality of product, but also for initial advice and a follow up service. You need to be sure you're buying the right plant or seed mix and if anything goes wrong that you can get help, or in the worst case that it will be replaced.
Our customers can get jumpy about speedy delivery. Unfortunately, given seasonality, staff numbers and weather there's sometimes a delay in plant dispatch. Smaller nurseries in particular can find periods of peak demand over the bare root season tricky, and will queue their dispatches chronologically unless you have a particular deadline. It's true, some nurseries are poor at monitoring stock and/or communicating with customers (no names mentioned!), but the speed of delivery isn't necessarily related to the quality of the plant.
Availability is sometimes seasonal too - bare root plants, for example, have to be lifted and shipped when dormant. Oxygenating pond plants can have very short delivery windows, and some seed - notably Yellow Rattle - has both short viability and a limited seeding window, so can only be reliably bought from August to December
If you're dealing with a reputable supplier, you generally get what you pay for. Short of posting photos of each individual plant for sale (which larger plant specialists will do) it's difficult to accurately convey a plant's size if you can't physically see it. Even for something carefully graded like hedge whips, you might find a 60-90cm one year old Hawthorn and a much bigger 3 year old plant of the same height.
Plants like fruit trees are obviously going to be a lot more expensive than these whips because of their rarity and the time involved in their production, although maiden plants are only a year old. Some species (Yew or holly, for example) grow very slowly, so they're very expensive.
There can be problems with packaging and delivery, particularly relating to plants in pots or trays. If deliveries turn up damaged, the supplier should offer you replacements on production of a photo.
Don't look for a hard and fast guarantee for plants and seeds. Some sellers explictly offer it, but as a general rule nurseries should replace failed plants within a reasonable timeline unless there's an obvious problem with the way they've been planted and cared for. They usually require photos. Seeds are trickier, as they are more vulnerable to mistakes and problems less easy to spot.
]]>I've pretty much given up on Twitter these days*, but I did check in a couple of days ago and found a classic spat going on.
Guy Shrubsole had a book published this year called "The Lost Rainforests of Britain". It has won awards and sold well, and Guy has been doing a well executed media round. This success is evidently a problem for some.
The "discussion" about it on Twitter started with someone called Harriet Rix posting a damning review. Harriet works for the Tree Council, so I thought it would be worth a read. Unfortunately, it was peppered with ad hominem attacks; Guy's problems started with being a white colonialist man and were compounded by buying a Barbour and moving to Devon. Red meat for Twitterati.
Why do people fight over this stuff? There's usually a commercial as well as a personal explanation for it - in this case, to sell a magazine. I hate the way the natural world around us has for some people become another front in the culture wars which so blight our political discourse.
Anyway, the tone of the review is a shame, because it devalues some reasonable points. For example, Harriet complains that our ideas on the environment are being shaped by a small number of well meaning enthusiasts with money and/or influence.
It's something that troubles me too. I'm surprised by some of the folk I come across shaping policy/opinion and putting habitat creation schemes together, who had no background in these areas, no mandate or authority, and haven't apparently picked up the right kind of information along the way. I've heard and read some pretty jaw droppingly wrong statements over the last few years from people who should know better, and come across several hopeless but well funded projects in the field. I'm surprised by the misconceptions that many "ordinary country folk" have too, by the way!
I guess this is a symptom of the failure of government we're all so painfully aware of, as well as experts' failure to communicate effectively. There are too few like Dave Goulson out there.
The kind of entrenched ideologically driven positions you find on Twitter are a recipe for disaster. If we feel the need to have a go at anyone, we would all be better employed having a pop at the elected representatives who are letting us down so badly at the moment.
Now more than ever we all just need to concentrate on actioning practical and effective solutions to the crisis we're in. Right now. I watched an old documentary about the winter of 1962-63 the other day. It devastated animal populations, but they bounced back incredibly quickly. I can't think they will now, as they struggle to survive through the temperature ranges we've endured this year in our much denuded landscapes. I spent a miserable afternoon clearing out our birdboxes before the latest big freeze, and if the mortality rates I found were indicative we're in big trouble.
I'm pleased the country's leading wildlife charities are stepping up much more aggressively to help fill the current policy vacuum, but - as they know - the real work needs doing at the coalface. Local Nature Recovery Networks are potentially an answer, but they need to actually do stuff. I went to a meeting of a thriving local group the other night, discussing what can be done for wildlife through the current ELMS shambles. There were all sorts of people there; farmers, farm advisers, landowners, local politicians, ecologists, the local Wildlife Trust, Natural England. They are really achieving things, despite everything.
I've seen some fabulous urban projects put together over the years by well informed and enthusiastic community groups like Chiltern Rangers, who have just finished planting a kilometre of native hedges around local housing estates.
We also supply a local Somerset charity, Carymoor, who are working with volunteers to plant thousands of whips around their landfill site to make nightingale habitat. National charities we support like the Bumblebee Conservation Trust just get on with the job of working on the science and habitat creation projects, demonstrably making a difference. There are thousands of people actually DOING great things around the country.
And as for me, thanks Harriet - I won't be rejoining Twitter any time soon.
*Tentatively, have set up a Mastodon account, @HabitatAid@mastodonapp.uk
]]>Looking out from our kitchen window I see Penselwood, a wooded ridge a couple of miles away, running north/south along the Somerset / Wiltshire border. In times past, when it was cleared, we would have seen a small Iron Age hillfort there. This would have been visible from the neolithic causewayed enclosure and Bronze Age barrow dug in the chalk of Whitesheet Hill, to the east, on the western edge of Salisbury Plain.
In 878, Alfred gathered the fyrd under an old oak in the forest now straddling the ridge - Selwood - to fight the Danes at Edington, on the northern escarpment of the Plain. It was the furthest west the Danes ever got.
I had a lovely walk with Woody around the site of the battle on Saturday. No-one's sure exactly where it was, but Alfred's victory is celebrated by the Westbury White Horse, carved into the hillside much later. This hillside is no ordinary slope; the top section morphs into the outer bank of a magnificent iron age hill fort - Bratton Camp - one of three along the northern flank of Salisbury Plain. This itself was built around a neolithic long barrow, which predates it by 3,000 years. To the east are Patcombe Hill,rising from Edgecombe Bottom (photo), and Edington Hill, both peppered with burial mounds and strip lynchets.
The Iron Age hill forts of the North Wessex scarp - Scratchbury, Battlesbury, Bratton, Uffington and Liddington - feature in David Abram's fascinating new book, the Aerial Atlas of Ancient Britain.
I've been a keen amateur archaeologist over the years, but even so, I'll be looking at these landscapes - many local - with fresh eyes.
David reinforced a key problem I've been banging on about for years; our current - and novel - lack of connection with the landscapes we live in. Without it, how can we be connected with the natural world around us too?
For thousands of years, generation after generation lived in the same places, met by the same stones, and gathered in the same ceremonial sites, usually laboriously and intricately built. When a new wave of immigrants arrived or circumstances changed, people often adapted existing sites. You can easily imagine the strong understanding of place and belonging there must have been.
It's absolutely unsurprising. They relied on an intimate understanding of their surrounding geography to survive and prosper. Rivers, for example, seemed to have had a ritual significance in the neolithic that matched their practical importance as food sources and transport networks.* The places where the elements seemed to meet often had a particular resonance, which we can still understand today.
Understanding more about our prehistory and earliest history is a key we can all use to help unlock the secrets of our landscape. And not just that - the natural world around us too. As David Abram says:
These wonders are hidden in plain site all around us... (they) may fundamentally alter the way you think and feel about the land beneath your feet.
*Their travels are astounding. A ceremonial axehead found on the Sweet Track, down the road outside Glastonbury, came from the Italian Alps. Nearly 6000 years ago.
]]>
He's teeny. Apparently he might be 5m tall in 5 years time. He will reach his maximum height some time after 20 years, when he will have that distinctive umbrella look.
I suddenly realised that's around when I should expect to croak.
Or if not dead, I will definitely have moved on.
I won't see this child as a grown up.
Worse, the future owner of our house might not like him. The folk we sold our last place to had no clue about gardening and did some terrible things. I don't even want to think about it.
This is a real problem. I reckon most of us have an optimum tree planting age - I'd guess around 50. If we're lucky we have a garden or a bit of land by then, or a community scheme we can get involved in. We're thinking about future generations, but planting for ourselves as well.
Increasingly, younger generations either rent or have less space to plant in, and older folk than me definitely plant less. I had a friend who worked as a tree officer in Devon, and he despaired of getting retirees to put trees in the ground.
We must, though. It won't be our children who enjoy my Stone Pine, but I hope someone else's will. They won't know why it's there or who planted it - the chances are they won't even think about it - but that doesn't matter.
]]>I did want to go off on one, though, about the impacts on the environment of some of last week's announcements. Many new policies, including elements of the Retained EU Law (Revocation and Reform) Bill 2022, or "Brexit Freedoms Bill" will come as a surprise to voters who voted Conservative on the basis of the 2019 manifesto.
I’m not just talking about fracking, which is the least of it. The Growth Plan makes it clear that government is looking to dismantle all sorts of EU regulations, including many to protect the environment. These it describes as "burdens". The new proposed investment zones seem to be some kind of dystopian "free-for-all for nature and heritage". It's backsliding on net zero too, and missing obvious policy initiatives here.
ELMS
The new ill-starred ELM subsidy system is going to be subject to a review in autumn. My bet is it's likely to be if not torpedoed, then holed under the waterline by a regressive looking new DEFRA team.
The Environmental Land Management Schemes are supposedly replacing the failed EU subsidy system. They're designed to encourage farmers to farm in a more nature friendly way while continuing to feed the nation. They were already running into trouble (underthought and underfunded) as regular readers of my blog would know, and government was looking less and less enthusiastic about them.
We need to address a whole range of problems in agriculture. ELMS doesn't get close to answering most of these questions in its current form. With resources and an integrated approach though - e.g. not doing trade deals like the one we did with Australia - the ELM approach might work. It's a very typical example of how complex and multi-faceted solutions like this can be, and a very typical example of the lack of resources and joined up thinking in government at the moment.
Everyone needs the long term consistency which just isn't there in government policy at the moment. How is any business supposed to plan when the government flip flops about like this? As Natural England's Tony Juniper says, it should be "meeting Nature targets while providing speed, simplicity & certainty for business". We are involved in some biodiversity net gain projects, for example, as required by current planning legislation. Are those requirements now likely to be dropped?
It's Complicated
Sure, I can hear some say, a lot has changed. Current circumstances demand different policy responses. The challenges facing government are extraordinary. And yet, it seems they just don't understand a lot. Taking an ideological sledge hammer to a raft of environmental regulation might seem like a great headline in the Daily Express - bonfire of red tape etc - but it's utter stupidity. The right answers are complicated, holistic and long term.
I'm not sure what's behind this dramatic policy U-turn. This new lot could be naked ideologues, or moved by a hidden hand, or just plain incompetent. I suspect - as usual - a combination of all three. The Tories - despite the notionally large Conservative Environment Network - have seemingly been incredibly slow to understand their own polling research on the environment.
Vivat Rex
The anger generated by the sewage issue seems to have been a complete surprise to them. The "world beating" Environment Act was seen to be what it was - feeble and ultimately unfit for purpose.
People care increasingly about nature and climate change, and you can see this in the polls. The RSPB, National Trust and the Wildlife Trusts, all of whom have issued statements roundly condemning recent developments, have a membership of around 8 million. Many of these folk are the kind of middle England voter the government is desperate to court.
Voters increasingly understand the desperate state of nature in this country, as well as the importance of fully embracing net zero. The fossil fuel crisis has a silver lining.
And this is the potential good news that might come out of this. People across a broad spectrum of interests and income groups - conservation NGOs, farmers, the renewable energy business, landowners, and lots and lots of voters - are very pissed off. There's no mandate for any of these radical new policies. Labour have jumped all over this with their green growth plan. It's an open goal.
It's ironic that our unelected King seems so much more in touch with the electorate than our unelected Prime Minister. Kwasi Kwarteng might be getting the message, though. There was panic in DEFRA on Friday, but two days later he said no environmental protections would be dropped*.
He has an intractable problem, however. Sorting out these issues is fiendishly complicated, potentially expensive in the short term, and not something that can be done through the private sector. Apparently the government wants to speed up the planning process, for example. How about increasing the budget for planning departments, rather than cutting planning requirements? If you want the Environment Agency to do what its supposed to do, then fund it properly. Action some of the National Food Strategy's recommendations.
The jury's still out on whether economic growth and the simultaneous improvement of our environment is achievable, but for the time being we must move heaven and earth to try for both, and protect nature at this critical moment. This means bigger government, not smaller, and investment in a green revolution. As Dave Goulson puts it:
Without nature, pollinators, healthy soils, birdsong, and a stable climate, even the richest amongst us will have nothing.
*liar, liar, pants on fire.
]]>
Last season we started selling bare root fruit trees from Tom Adams's nursery outside Oswestry. We've been very impressed by the quality of the trees, and intrigued by what he was up to. We popped in to see him last week, and our visit didn't disappoint...
Tom was brought up locally and saved for years to buy some land and fulfill a lifetime's ambition. Like The Mother Tree - another supplier we visited recently - his smallholding is run on permaculture lines. He's done a lot since he bought his 6 1/2 acres 4 years ago. His knowledge matches his drive and energy! Unsurprisingly, he has achieved organic certification, in 2020.
Tom's big thing is heritage apple trees, and he has a lovely selection of old varieties, mostly local to him, and some very rare. Right up our street - we'll be adding more to the apple trees we currently offer from him. He doesn't just grow apples, but also soft fruit like the Denbigh Plum and some other lovely things like Perry Pears. They're all immaculate, mulched with willow chippings and fertilised with green manures, all grown on site.
The trees are rotated with other crops. Tom has volunteer helpers and lets local growers use the site, so there's Chamomile, herbs, vegetables and cut flowers. There's clover in fallow areas, and wildflower strips too. It's all very clever.
His integrated natural pest and disease control seems to be working a treat, and you have to think plants grown like this are going to be more resistant to problems in their later life.
Planting regionally appropriate fruit trees, or native plants from local populations, is also going to mean more resilience and diversity in the flora around us.
It would be great to think this kind of community nursery could play an important part of our plant and food supply. It's not difficult to imagine small scale growers springing up around the country with their own specialisms, either selling to the public directly or to garden centres and larger nurseries. Importing plants and flowers for sale is difficult, environmentally unfriendly, and increasingly expensive. How much better to buy them from a local grower using properly sustainable methods.
]]>Let's take a step back. There are going to be plants which are going to struggle in drought conditions whatever you do. Avoid planting them. If you already have semi-mature or mature plants which need lots of TLC to get through the summer, steel yourself to wave them goodbye. Climate change isn't going away. Sooner rather than later they're going to give up the ghost, so save yourself the effort and expense of trying to save them.
We've been planting lots of trees for shade, but avoiding ornamental trees and shrubs which can't cope and planting species which can. Many are also - surprise surprise! - good for pollinators, particularly as they flower at odd times of the year. They include Paulownias - we sell tomentosa, the Foxglove tree, and we also have the even more exotic kawakamii here. I've also planted Evodia hupehensis and Hovenia dulcis, which are doing well too. We have Arbutus unedo too, the Strawberry tree, an intriguing small deciduous tree which thrives on our heavy clay. Of course, there are tonnes of Mediterranean plants to consider. I've recently bought Echium fastuosum* and Geranium maderense, for example, and we have lots of herbs.
It's worth mentioning that some of these plants aren't fully frost hardy. A greenhouse or conservatory is helpful to help them overwinter.
The other species which stand up are our native flora. Many are incredibly resilient. Most native hedge plants - like Hawthorn and Blackthorn - are tough as old boots. Many or our native species have a natural range which includes the Mediterranean, after all. The photo above is Broom, which I found flourishng on the southern Greek coast. British populations won't be so heat tolerant, of course, but it's a good hint they should do ok in drought.
Viper's bugloss, Mallow and Teasel
Species rich grassland is amazingly resilient too; another reason for having a wildflower meadow. The grasses and wildflowers on our green roof, which is a kind of uber stressed meadow, have little help. They get massivlely stressed at times like this but persist very happily. There are lots of tough attractive native wildflowers there which work well in a garden setting - Kidney vetch, Birdsfoot trefoil, Stonecrops, Rockrose, Wild thyme, Musk mallow... the list goes on!
Apart from plant selection, you can pre-empt many drought related issues for young plants by ensuring they establish quickly and healthily. There are some simple rules to follow when buying and planting:
Well planted Hazel hedge whips in their first summer on site, bought as 2 year old 60-90cm bare root plants. Don't water!
Maintenance is pretty straightforward! There are the key messages:
I don't think there's a hard and fast rule about watering plants planted in the earth - as opposed to in pots.
The only instances I've come across of mass failures - when a whole hedge conks out, for example - have been the result of poor stock, poor planting and only occasional watering. Specifically, not when plants aren't watered at all. These are typically 60-90cm 2 year old hedge whips.
Field maple with powdery mildew.
I only tend to water native whips and maiden fruit trees planted bare root if they're showing signs of real stress. This could be bad powdery mildew, for example, leaf drop or drooping new growth. The problem with watering is two-fold. Once you've started you can't stop, and you have to water properly. If you don't, you just encourage root systems to stay shallow and get lazy, leaving the plant vulnerable to failure when it has to fend for itself. Secondly, there's the practical side of things. You can't realistically water a 10 Hectare woodland scheme, or a kilometre of hedge. If a semi-mature or mature plant is struggling I give up on it; it will be the wrong plant in the wrong place.
If you do have to water and you can afford it, give a suffering plant a dose of liquid tomato feed too - i.e. a low nitrogen formula. Water slowly to avoid runoff, water the soil rather than the plant, and in the evening or morning. Remember though the unwatered plants will tend to develop as more resilient.
Larger newly planted trees and shrubs need much more lavish attention and should be watered regularly and deeply. They are much, much more vulnerable than small whips. A drip feed irrigation system is ideal. Big specimens are routinely planted in urban settings - e.g. street trees - which I get, but should be avoided whenever possible. Even if they don't fail, the initially smaller plants will quickly overtake them.
If you have established ornamental herbaceous plants which pollinators like, for example lavender, salvias, wallflowers or catmint, even if they look ok give them a good drink. If short of water, plants produce fewer flowers and less nectar.
I use watering cans rather than a hose, to save water. If you have two 10 litre cans you can fill up one at the tap while pouring the other. The RHS suggest using 10% of the volume of any pot you're watering, which sounds about right, but on the low side in hot weather. If I'm watering an established climbing rose or large shrub in a bed I'll use at least a 10 litre can. Different plants in different soils and situations will need different quantities so there's no firm rule, but it's really important not to mess about - don't give them too little.
It's best to water in the morning or evening - I prefer the morning, so there's not too much water about to encourage slugs and snails overnight. Watering in hot sun means evaporation, and you shouldn't be out in it anyway! If you're watering a plant from above, avoid its foliage and water directly into the soil. If mulched, move the mulch aside, and replace when you've finished. Remember to water a reasonable area the plant, not just close to the stem.
Always use a saucer with a pot. If it's deep enough you can water by filling it up, which reduces the chance of getting Sciarid flies and encourage the root system to grow downwards. Even if not, it will collect any water which runs through the pot, which could be significant if the growing medium in the pot is easy draining. The plant can then absorb it over a couple of hours. Any left should be thrown away.
Water regularly and well, increasing frequency in hot weather. I water our pots weekly, but (with the exception of my succulents) at least twice that in hot weather, accoring to need. Watch out for tell-tale drooping, mildew or leaf curling.
Small pots will need more regular watering as they're more susceptible to drying out; the surface of the pot is relatively large compared to the growing medium inside it. I tend to use unglazed terracota pots rather than plastic because I like the look of them, hink they provide some insulation against extreme temperatures. They also absorb water from the saucer, which must be helpful. If we hit a really bad heatwave, whatever your pots are made of, move them temporarily off exposed patios and terraces if you can and to a shady spot.
You can even use unglazed pots as a self-regulating slow watering system. Bury them, fill with water and cover with their saucer. The water will gradually seep out into the surrounding soil until it's wet enough, at which point it stops.
Happy Pelargoniums!
You just can't put a sprinkler on your lawn, I'm afraid. It's a hugely anti-social waste of water. Like a meadow, it will go brown but it won't die. Leave the grass longer than you have been doing, which will improve its resilience. It will be better for wildlife too!
It's worth mentioning that grass underfoot is much cooler than hard surfaces like stone, concrete or decking, of course. Just ask your pet! Impermeable surfaces are bad for drainage too, and climate change will bring with it increasingly violent rainstorms. If you have a lot of hard landscaping in your garden have a think about getting rid of some.
Plastic "grass" is terrible in extreme heat (it's terrible period - Ed). It gets incredibly hot and has to be regularly hosed down to keep it anything like cool. You certainly can't walk on it in bare feet. If you already have a plastic "lawn", do please consider taking it up - it's bad for wildlife and drainage. If you're thinking of getting one please don't.
My last tip is - don't give up. Even if a plant looks dead it probably isn't. Perennials die but reseed themselves. Lawns turn brown. New transplants go into shock. Stressed plants drop their leaves. You'll see green under the cambium of a distressed new plant if you scratch it, which will be the precursor to a Lazarus like recovery when conditions improve. Natur is amazingly resilient.
I'm sure this kind of advice is going to change as climate change gets worse, and that our gardens and landscapes will adapt in ways that I can't imagine. Nature is amazingly resilient though, and we can only just keep buggering on. Gardening is good for our mental and physical health, and our gardens and smallholdings will be even more important in the twin wars against climate change and biodiversity loss too.
*I'm a huge fan of our native Echium, Viper's Bugloss, which we have loads of. Top bee plant.
]]>We will lead the global fight against climate change by delivering on our world-leading target of Net Zero greenhouse gas emissions by 2050, as advised by the independent Committee on Climate Change.
Regardless of how you feel about how we're doing to meet this promise, it was apparently a key part of their platform. The Tories have had a great record in developing renewables over the last decade plus, so this kind of aspiration wasn't just a flash in the pan.
Now one of the candidates, Suella Braverman, has this to say about net zero:
In order to deal with the energy crisis we need to suspend the all-consuming desire to achieve net zero by 2050. If we keep it up, especially before businesses and families can adjust, our economy will end up with net zero growth.
She may have an extreme view, but the other candidates have had very little to say about climate change at all. Or indeed the environment generally. There's a thriving "turquoise Tory" caucus called the Conservative Environment Network (CEN) which numbers 200 MPs and members of the Lords, but which includes no candidate for leader.
Even though - you might think tellingly - Boris Johnson didn't mention climate change or the environment at all in his resignation speech, some of his ministers have argued that his administration has been very green. While that's at best pretty debatable, it's interesting they're making the claim. Zac Goldsmith, a CEN member, has gone further:
What is frustrating (putting it politely) is that I have numerous texts from very well known environmentalists who are shrieking publicly about Boris but who accept privately that his departure is likely very bad news for nature and climate.
He's plainly deeply worried about some of the candidates.
As Zac acknowledges, there are some bizarrely powerful anti-environment voices in the Conservative Party. "Bizarre", for several reasons.
Firstly, in numerical terms there are relatively few of them. Unfortunately, they are well funded and well placed.
Disraeli: More Cameron than Cameron
David Cameron caved in to the green crap ideologues and they're still a powerful voice. It's odd that it has become a badge of honour at titles like The Spectator to continue to publish articles promoting climate change denial (they're still doing it). It's disastrous that these people still see it as a political issue or in some way a matter of opinion. It was such a shame Michael Gove was moved on from DEFRA when he was, before he had time to properly move the needle on this.
Outside this odd bubble, however, the electorate is growing more concerned about the environment (see below). It's sheer folly to oppose action against climate change and biodiversity loss, on a purely politically expedient basis.
Giving up insulation subsidies on the basis of cost seemed incredibly short sighted at the time and now a terrible mistake. As other policies like this - renewable power incentives, European clean air requirements and fuel tax, for example - it had a short term cost but much, much greater long term economic gain. It was very sad that Henry Dimbleby's key recommendations in the recent National Food Strategy were tossed into the long grass as a result of pressure from the Right. These aren't generally the kind of strategic interventionist policies which sit well with populist free marketeers!
Not just that, but most sensible environmental policies are seen to be anti-business and anti-consumer. The bottom line to many issues is that we need to consume less and pay the real cost of what we do consume. A small recent example has been the disastrous handling of the continuing pollution on the River Wye. The (then!) Environment Minister ruled that the poultry units which are pouring phosphates into the river could continue to do so, on the basis that if they had to clean their acts up they'd be operating at a competitive disadvantage. Which is sort of the point, of course. Government has so far failed conspicuously to do anything effective about abstraction and pollution in our rivers generally, despite the pressure put on them as part of the passage of the "world-leading" Environment Act.
Photo: River Action
Sensible environmental policies are not only expensive in the short term, they're also only enforceable by big government. The new Environment Land Management Scheme was originally partly sold to MPs on the basis it would be cheap to adminster and light touch. There was no chance it would be, but it was the only way to get it actioned (as a partial consequence it's a disaster). A similar thing is going on with Biodiversity Net Gain, which turns out to be a minefield. In the meantime, the Environment Agency and Natural England are both underfunded shells, asked to do more and more with less and less.
Localism is of course a vital element of nature conservation and habitat creation projects, and the government seems to understand that. Unsurprisingly, as it has been part of Conservative philosophy for many years. When polled you can see how keen Conservative voters are to improve the wildlife in their area, and one of the best parts of the Environment Act was the establishment of Nature Recovery Networks. What government is less keen to understand and fund are a national policy framework, incentives and support for this work.
The electorate does increasingly care about the environment. This is a relatively new thing, and although Tory policy gonks have been talking about it for several years now, government itself (and the opposition) has been slow to react to it.
I guess this is partly because of demographics; the young are much more concerned than the old. When polled,* 18-24 year olds consistently feel that the environment is one of the two most important issue we're facing (Source: YouGov), whereas for the over 65s it's way less significant. And it's the over 65s who vote.
The environment is a significant factor for many in marginal seats as well as for the young, though. A recent poll (Opinium UK) puts it ahead of crime, immigration, education and defence for these folk.
You'd never have guessed. A few MPs and the right wing Press constantly bang on about green crap, climate conspiracy etc etc. Anti-environmental policies are baked into their DNA. This kind of commentary can even be framed so it becomes part of a manufactured "culture war" against "snowflake youth" or "the green blob". It's deeply ironic that it was Margaret Thatcher who first raised the alarm about climate change.
Age and voting intention amplify the voice of the anti-environment minority in the Conservative Party, particularly when it comes to Party members selecting a new Prime Minister. It's at best really unhelpful for the Party itself as they are increasingly unrepresentative of the electorate. Ultimately it might even make the Tories unelectable. They will change tack at some point, of course, but I'm not sure we have the time to wait for that to happen.
In the meantime, I guess it's progress that there are fights going on over environmental policy inside the Conservative Party. And that someone thinks it's a good idea to claim their government was the greenest ever. Not forgetting "world-leading", of course.
*I know, who trusts polls etc.
]]>Pretty amazing looking.
The natural world in our own gardens can be so exciting and exotic, and we notice - and know - so little about it.
It turns out Sabre wasps aren't super rare, but I'd certainly never seen one before. It's another new species for the garden, which always gives me a thrill. We had Tree bumblebees very early after their appearance from France, ditto Ivy bees. Last year Wool carder bees appeared for the first time.
In the spring we had Bee-flies too - I'd noticed them around locally, but never here. Another bee parasite - Jewel wasps - arrived a couple of years ago. Where there are lots of bumblebees and solitary bees, their parasites will follow.
This summer we have Large skippers; a common butterfly, but another first for the garden. The other day I noticed these two Burnet companions - another new insect for us:
During lockdown we had a visit from a much more exotic looking Jersey tiger.
New hedges and ponds mean we have loads of common pipistrelles now - when we had the old cottage here surveyed 10 years ago the ecologist could find no signs at all of any bats. We never used to have fieldfares in winter or bush crickets in summer either. The ponds and associated plants have brought a whole range of new animals as well as the bats, including grass snakes.
We now have Barn owls and a pair of Mistle thrushes nesting at the bottom of the garden. In the Sabre wasp size category we have gentle Hornets and Giant horntails (one of the species Sabre wasps parasitise) buzzing around.
I'm sure we've had many, many more species arrive that I haven't noticed.
Why have they all started showing up here? It's pretty obvious.
Some of these animals have specific relationships with single plants. Burnet companions need Cocksfoot as a larval foodplant. Wool carder bees like Stachys Byzantina leaves to line their nests. Ivy bees need late flowering plants like... ivy. We have encouraged all these.
Others have less specialised but no less intimate relationships with the flora around them. The parasitic species at a remove; Sabre wasps look for the fallen timber where their larval victims live, for example. Bee parasites show up where there are good bee populations, thriving in the right habitat.
We don't own an estate. We have a large garden (around 2 acres), not hundreds of hectares. Even so, we can still make a significant contribution to local biodiversity. If we lived in an urban flat and had a window box we could make a difference.
It's plants which are important, not stuff. As gardeners, we need to think about their selection and management much more carefully than we do.
Why should we? The animals here give me as much pleasure as the plants I grow. It's great to be God.
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