My land is mature

Week 27

There is an advantage to my land that I initially missed. Yet now, on reflection, it is obvious. My house is old, more than a century, and the land that goes with it is even older. By any standards, the land is mature. It lends a sense of privacy and enclosure. It may even have its own microclimate. The soil as well. Years of fallen leaves and organic matter have likely enriched the soil, making it more fertile, so some plants will grow on my land whereas they may not in other places.

I have taken such things for granted when I should not, as so many people these days must artificially age their gardens[i]. Their houses may be more comfortable than mine, that would not be difficult, but they are also new. I am spared that process, thanks to the length of time my house and land have been present, and find I am increasingly wary of cutting anything, simply because it is old.

By old, I mean old. My land was once ancient woodland anyway. I have one beech tree that is said to be 175 years old and an oak nearby that is aged at least 90 years, while a cypress has made it to over 200 years. The trees felled nearby were probably aged at least 60 years, likely even older. It is why it is important to think carefully before felling anything at all. Vintage garden design is a growing trend throughout the world[ii] but I have the good fortune of being vintage anyway - me and my land - and need to treasure and protect that.

Meanwhile I have an ageing mountain lacebark[iii], all the way from New Zealand, and that I initially thought was a Philadelphus[iv] with barely any scent, that has been on my land for Heaven knows how long. Its branches are gnarled and old, in places covered with lichen. Yet it makes no difference, as the tree, bush, call it what one might, is littered with insects. I stood beside it a few days ago and there looked to be an insect parade - bumblebees[v], honeybees[vi], wasps[vii], hoverflies[viii], dragonflies[ix],[x], moths[xi] and even a Red Admiral butterfly[xii]. The butterfly waited until just before I pressed my camera’s shutter button before fluttering away, likely in search of a mate. I see it so often. If I keep my hands in my pockets, the wildlife will hang around. The moment I produce anything from a pouch, or from around my neck, the wildlife vanishes. Taking photographs of creatures in the wild can be challenging. They are watching my tiniest move.

One of the issues of renaturing, which at the start had not crossed my mind, is that you must rapidly become expert on grasses. For Stripy Lawners, this is not a worry, as the grass will be cut short anyway. With a lawn mower you have no idea what you are beheading, which might otherwise have a chance to grow. But for Rewilders and Renaturers, even Betweeners, grasses grow proudly, and sway in the wind. They are beautiful, but it is clear they represent a sector of vegetation about which I know little. I ask many gardeners, and they claim ignorance, too. I am, however, learning speedily.

On my land there are many different grasses, among the incredible display of flowers that is springing up all around. Grasses so often go unappreciated despite playing a pivotal role in the ecosystem. They stabilise the soil and provide habitats for small creatures. Essentially grasses are the unsung heroes of renatured land. I have plenty and watch them swaying this way and that in the wind. My grasses include:

1. Yorkshire Fog (Holcus lanatus)[xiii]

This is said to have acquired its name thanks to the misty nature of the grass as it sways in a field. Yet I wonder? I suspect the name comes from old Norwegian, where “fogg” translates as “tall, worthless grass”. My Yorkshire Fog is beautiful but for livestock it is largely useless. It has a soft, velvety texture and subtle pinkish hue at maturity, and is a common sight in renatured gardens. It thrives in many soils, be it heavy clay or sandy, and provides shelter for various insects while contributing to soil health. The grass is easily confused with creeping soft grass[xiv], which likes woodland clearings.

2. Meadow Foxtail (Alopecurus pratensis)[xv]

Meadow foxtail (Alopecurus pratensis) (Wirestock) — Meadow Foxtail

Named for its resemblance to a fox’s tail, Meadow Foxtail is an early species, its tall, cylindrical flower heads appearing from April onwards. It is a favourite among gardeners looking to rewild their gardens, as its attractiveness to pollinators, such as bees, makes it an asset for boosting biodiversity.

3. Orchard Grass (Dactylis glomerata)[xvi]

Orchard grass (Dactylis glomerata) (Orest Lyzhechka) — Orchard Grass

Orchard Grass, also known as Cocksfoot, is a durable and hardy species that is well adapted to the northern climate. Its tall, tufted growth provides excellent cover for small mammals and birds. Notably, its seeds are a favourite among finches and other seed-eating birds.

4. Common Bent (Agrostis capillaris)[xvii],[xviii]

Common Bent, or Browntop as it is also known, is a familiar sight in Lakeland and thrives in a range of conditions, from well-drained soils to damp environments. Its wispy, fine structure and panicles of tiny flowers are definitely picturesque, particularly when backlit by the setting sun.

5. Creeping Red Fescue (Festuca rubra)[xix]

Creeping red fescue (Festuca rubra) (HHelene) — Creeping Red Fescue

Creeping Red Fescue, with its distinct reddish tinge, stands out among other grasses. It forms a dense network of roots, making it an excellent choice for erosion control. It is also incredibly resilient, often being the first to green up after a harsh winter.

6. Timothy (Phleum pratense)[xx]

Recognised by its cylindrical, spike-like flower heads, Timothy is a common grass found across the UK and is a valuable food source for various caterpillars, while its pollen-rich flowers are a magnet for bees and other pollinators.

7. Perennial Ryegrass (Lolium perenne)[xxi],[xxii]

Rye grass (Lolium perenne) (Pixel) — Rye Grass

Perennial Ryegrass is a robust, quick-growing species that is commonly found in pastures and renatured gardens. It is favoured for its ability to improve soil structure and provide cover quickly, thanks to its fast germination rate.

Somewhere on my land I have each one. To the untrained eye, and until I started renaturing that was me, these grasses might seem ordinary. Yet they are a testament to the magic of renaturing as I let Nature take the reins. Each of these grass species brings a multitude of benefits to my renatured land, offering habitat, food, and improving soil health. I must never allow myself to forget that grass is the green carpet that lays the foundation for an array of other plant life and garden wildlife, of which my land has plenty.

In addition to the grasses, which are appearing all over, there are plenty of flowers as well. The chameleon plant[xxiii] is popping up in many different places. I have not planted any of them but have long been fascinated by the flower. It is very low level, appearing as if from nowhere, and was used in traditional Chinese medicine to treat SARS[xxiv], although I am unsure there was much scientific evidence to demonstrate its efficacy.

Knapweed[xxv] is appearing, with its tall, purple flowers. The butterflies adore it, as do humans when the flowers are added to salads. In 14th-Century Britain, knapweed was known as Matfellon and was eaten with pepper at the start of a meal in order to stimulate appetite.

Knapweed is also said to counteract the toxins in adder bites[xxvi], although I do not intend to experiment.

And St John’s Wort[xxvii], too, in many different forms. The plant’s name comes from 16th-Century German, ‘Johannes-blut’, after the dark red colour of some of the glands, which is where nectar is produced[xxviii], and linked the flower to the martyr St John. The perforated form, and I do have some, is classified by many as a weed. Like plenty of today’s invasive plants, it was introduced as an ornamental in centuries past but is now listed as a noxious weed in several parts of the world[xxix]. It has a wide range of medicinal uses and is promoted for depression, menopausal symptoms, attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), obsessive-compulsive disorder, and other conditions[xxx], including wounds, bruises and muscle pain, in addition to poor sleep. Clearly, I should go nowhere without a supply of St John’s Wort[xxxi].

The plant is also very drought tolerant once established[xxxii], which is perhaps why it is doing so well on my land. As I write this, there is rain around for the first time in a long while, although Lakeland has a long way to go until full recovery. Haweswater and Thirlmere contain 13% less water[xxxiii] than they should right now, and a drought is predicted for my area any day.

Remarkable when I live in the wettest part of the land. I was pleased to see a local MP saying the water companies should do better. They should.

***

Acknowledgement

Take it from me - none of this would be possible without the help of RSG Horticulture. Rufus, who runs it, has far more energy than me and is full of ideas and skills. Do contact him through https://www.rsghorticulture.com.

My land is mature

Recent Posts

コメント