All Along The Hedgerow

The popular image of the English countryside is a land of small fields, thick hedges and majestic oaks. It still exists in some parts of the country but scenery changes according to the agricultural practices of the day, landscapes are lost and new landscapes evolve. But sometimes, in the words of Joni Mitchell, "You don't know what you've got till it's gone".

A few months back I posted a picture of a piece of hedge laying and Jack, of "Hartford Daily Photo" fame, suggested that I might do a post about English hedges. Actually, Jack, whole books have been written on the subject but this post will have to do for now. Others may follow later in the year.

The main purpose of a hedge these days is to keep animals within a confined grazing area. Wooden fences and stone walls are also used but both are more expensive to build and maintain. In the more mountainous and rocky parts of the country stone walls are common but around here hedges of hawthorn and other trees and bushes are the norm.

A hawthorn hedge can quickly be established, in fact hawthorn is also known as quick-thorn. But the problem with any kind of hedge is that the constituent plants have no ambition to make a nice hedge. They don't want to grow cheek-by-jowl with their neighbour, intertwine their branches just above ground level, stay at a manageable height and just grow laterally. They want to spread their branches in all directions, cut out the light from their neighbours, grow up towards the sun and be trees!

If you want a hedge to remain as a hedge then you've got to do something about it; and that something is "laying" your hedge. Put simply this involves cutting part way through the wood near to ground level, bending each stem over at an angle and weaving them in and out of the remaining uprights. Sounds easy enough till you try! The result is a stock proof barrier.

Here in East Anglia farming became more and more arable with very few animals being kept. Why bother with hedges? Waste of space. Knock 'em down. Set fire to them. Have bigger and bigger fields for bigger and bigger machines. Forget Little Stargoose, Parson's Mead and The Backland. Lets plough and sow the Hundred-Acre. One species loved it - the hare. They adapted to the wide open spaces and yesterday were in full Mad-March-Hare mode, chasing one another and engaging in occasional bouts of boxing. But all so distant that my little camera had to be pushed to the limit to get anything at all.

But things are changing. Slowly we're realising what has been lost and hedges are being reinstated. Catkins are blowing in the breeze and buds are forming.

Join me again soon for another ramble - all along the hedgerow.

Take care.