Book Reviews
This page contains reviews of the following countryside/nature/environment books:
- Just Off for a Walk by Stephen Reynolds
- A Tale of Trees: The Battle to Save Britain's Ancient Woodland by Derek Niemann
- Pathlands: 21 Tranquil Walks Among the Villages of Britain by Peter Owen Jones
- The Pebbles on the Beach by Clarence Ellis
- Silent Spring Revisited by Conor Mark Jameson
- Wilding – The Return of Nature to a British Farm by Isabella Tree.
- Outskirts - Living Life on the Edge of the Green Belt by John Grindrod
- They Fought in the Fields by Nicola Tyrer
- The Wood – The Life and Times of Cockshutt Wood by John Lewis-Stempel.
- Stable Lass by Gemma Hogg
- Wild Hares and Hummingbirds by Stephen Moss
- Breverton's Complete Herbal: A Book of Remarkable Plants and Their Uses by Terry Breverton.
- Scenes From a Smallholding and More Scenes From a Smallholding by Chas Griffin
- In The Wake Of The Hurricane by Bob Ogley
- The Nature Fix - Why Nature Makes Us Happier, Healthier, and More Creative by Florence Williams.
- The Green Road Into the Trees by Hugh Thomson.
- Fingers in the Sparkle Jar by Chris Packham.
- Counting Sheep – A Celebration of the Pastoral Heritage of Britain by Philip Walling.
- One Man and His Mule: Across England With a Pack Mule by Hugh Thomson.
- No Nettles Required: The Reassuring Truth About Wildlife Gardening by Ken Thompson.
- Foxes Unearthed – A Story of Love and Loathing in Modern Britain by Lucy Jones.
- Meadowland – The Private Life Of An English Field by John Lewis-Stempel.
- A Sting in the Tale – My Adventures with Bumblebees by Dave Goulson.
- The Ash and The Beech: The Drama of Woodland Change by Richard Mabey (originally published under the title: Beechcombings).
- From Source to Sea: Notes from a 215-Mile Walk Along the River Thames by Tom Chesshyre.
- Rain: Four Walks in English Weather by Melissa Harrison.
- Oak and Ash and Thorn: The Ancient Woods and New Forests of Britain by Peter Fiennes.
- Woods – A Celebration by Robert Penn.
- A Wood of One’s Own by Ruth Pavey.
- The Secret Life of Cows by Rosamund Young.
- A Shepherd’s Watch by David Kennard.
- Park Life (The Memoirs of a Royal Parks Gamekeeper) by John Bartram.
- The Wood for the Trees by Richard Fortey.
- The Corfu Trilogy by Gerald Durrell.
- A Year in the Life of the Yorkshire Shepherdess by Amanda Owen.
- Badgerlands - The Twilight World of Britain's Most Enigmatic Anima by Patrick Barkham.
- The Running Hare – The Secret Life of Farmland by John Lewis-Stempel.
- What Nature Does For Britain by Tony Juniper.
- The Scything Handbook by Ian Miller.
- The Shepherd’s Life – A Tale of the Lake District by James Rebanks.
- H is for Hawk by Helen MacDonald.
- Life of a Chalkstream by Simon Cooper
- All Creatures Great and Small by James Herriot
- The Yorkshire Shepherdess by Amanda Owen
- Return to Akenfield by Craig Taylor
- One Girl and Her Dogs by Emma Gray
- Stopping by Woods – A Guide to the Forests and Woodland of Ireland by Donal Magner
- Akenfield by Ronald Blythe
- Green Fields and Pavements: A Norfolk Farmer in Wartime by Henry Williamson.
- On Nature – Unexpected Ramblings on the British Countryside.
- Woodland Crafts in Britain by Herbert L Edlin
- A Year In The Woods by Colin Elford
- Woodsman – Living In A Wood In The 21st Century by Ben Law
- Country Capers by Ken Dykes
- The Dragonfly Diaries - The Unlikely Story of Europe's First Dragonfly Sanctuary by Ruary Mackenzie Dodds.
- Pigs in Clover: Or How I Accidentally Fell In Love With The Good Life by Simon Dawson.
- Norwegian Wood – Chopping, Stacking and Drying Wood the Scandinavian Way by Lars Mytting.
- Birds in a Cage by Derek Niemann.
- The Man Who Made Things Out of Trees by Robert Penn.
- Doorstep Wilderness – A Wilder Side of Dublin by Paul Hughes.
- Humble by Nature by Kate Humble.
- Adam’s Farm – My Life on the Land by Adam Henson.
- From A to Bee – My First Year as a Beginner Beekeeper by James Dearsley.
Just Off for a Walk by Stephen Reynolds
This joyful book tells the tale of what happens when an overweight, unhealthy, stressed, approaching 40, office worker and fully paid up insomniac suddenly decides to take 2 months out to walk the 630 miles of the South West Costal Path, taking in Dorset, Devon and Cornwall, from Minehead around to Poole Harbour.
The author freely admits that every decision he has made in his life has been founded on apathy and fear, encouraging him to always take the path of least resistance. Then he one day finds himself sat in a conference hall pretending to be someone he isn’t and unable to any longer fake an interest in a career that he drifted into and which failed to ignite even the mildest spark of passion. I dare say there are a good many of us who have been in that self same position. His answer is to go for a walk... a very long one.
This is one of the most delightful walking books I've read, a simple story, simply written, but one that pulled me in with his humour, self-awareness and high spirits. Anyone who can see the lighter side of walking in incessant rain and strong winds, of immersing themselves waist deep in an effort to cross what initially appeared to be a shallow river, and of tackling some of the more challenging sections of the walk has the right to claim a certain level of daftness and a total lack of pretention. What makes it all the more impressive is that he tackles the vast majority of the walk with only a series of guidebooks for company. Following the transformation of a self-professed couch potato into a steep-incline junkie is one the highlights of the book. And his observations on scenery, wildlife, people and accommodation standards are entertaining, without going into excessive detail. Having visited many of the areas along the walk over the years it was great to have the memories come flooding back.
His conversational, easy-going style, covering the good, the bad and the ugly of his journey, his moments of exhilaration, his introspection and his attempts to make light of it all is a pleasure to read. And, how can you not be attracted to a book in which author begins with, “if you read the book accepting that your narrator is an idiot that doesn’t know what he’s talking about, you’ll be fine”?
The author freely admits that every decision he has made in his life has been founded on apathy and fear, encouraging him to always take the path of least resistance. Then he one day finds himself sat in a conference hall pretending to be someone he isn’t and unable to any longer fake an interest in a career that he drifted into and which failed to ignite even the mildest spark of passion. I dare say there are a good many of us who have been in that self same position. His answer is to go for a walk... a very long one.
This is one of the most delightful walking books I've read, a simple story, simply written, but one that pulled me in with his humour, self-awareness and high spirits. Anyone who can see the lighter side of walking in incessant rain and strong winds, of immersing themselves waist deep in an effort to cross what initially appeared to be a shallow river, and of tackling some of the more challenging sections of the walk has the right to claim a certain level of daftness and a total lack of pretention. What makes it all the more impressive is that he tackles the vast majority of the walk with only a series of guidebooks for company. Following the transformation of a self-professed couch potato into a steep-incline junkie is one the highlights of the book. And his observations on scenery, wildlife, people and accommodation standards are entertaining, without going into excessive detail. Having visited many of the areas along the walk over the years it was great to have the memories come flooding back.
His conversational, easy-going style, covering the good, the bad and the ugly of his journey, his moments of exhilaration, his introspection and his attempts to make light of it all is a pleasure to read. And, how can you not be attracted to a book in which author begins with, “if you read the book accepting that your narrator is an idiot that doesn’t know what he’s talking about, you’ll be fine”?
A Tale of Trees: The Battle to Save Britain's Ancient Woodland by Derek Niemann
For a nation that reportedly loves its ancient woods it is amazing how close we came to wiping most of them out in the latter half of the last century. It was said that in the space of just 30 years, nearly half of our ancient woods were destroyed. This excellent book details how and why this happened and who stood up and campaigned to prevent them all being lost.
Starting with the creation of the Forestry Commission after the First Wold War and the drive to make the country self-sufficient in timber in times of conflict, this book details how decades of muddled thinking, greed and a complete disregard for the environment and nature lead to the destruction of many of our ancient woodlands. Then, in the decades following the Second World War, vast areas of irreplaceable woodland disappeared under the plough, were concreted over to make way for housing and roads, or were destroyed through quarrying and mineral extraction. The simple overriding policy of the time was that all land was to be managed with the aim of maximising economic return, in whatever form that took. The result is that today if you look at a map all you see are the tiny isolated fragments of once large tracts of broadleaf woodland.
However, there were those who were not simply prepared to follow orders or a Commission run by ex-military, with military efficiency and ruthlessness. I particularly love the story of the employee who, tasked with replacing an entire broadleaf woodland with a conifer plantation, took the brilliant approach of planting the conifers around the outside to hide the fact that he had left the bulk of the woodland intact. This book is filled with the actions of such people, to whom we owe a great debt for at least restricting the destruction that was being carried out across the entire country.
This well-written, fascinating and haunting book features the voices of those who cut down the woods and those who saved what was left. It explains what ancient woodland is, where it was and what remains of it, and its unique ecology and benefits. It is also a wake-up call to all those who believe that the threat to our woodlands is over - more than 100 hectares of ancient woodland has been lost over the past 10 years and HS2 threatens to destroy or seriously affect a further 63 ancient woods. With the benefit of hindsight it is difficult to understand how such destruction was allowed, let alone encouraged. However, we still live in a society where protections are regarded as an unnecessary hindrance when there is money to be made.
I would easily place this book on the ‘must read’ list of anyone interested in the environment and conservation.
Starting with the creation of the Forestry Commission after the First Wold War and the drive to make the country self-sufficient in timber in times of conflict, this book details how decades of muddled thinking, greed and a complete disregard for the environment and nature lead to the destruction of many of our ancient woodlands. Then, in the decades following the Second World War, vast areas of irreplaceable woodland disappeared under the plough, were concreted over to make way for housing and roads, or were destroyed through quarrying and mineral extraction. The simple overriding policy of the time was that all land was to be managed with the aim of maximising economic return, in whatever form that took. The result is that today if you look at a map all you see are the tiny isolated fragments of once large tracts of broadleaf woodland.
However, there were those who were not simply prepared to follow orders or a Commission run by ex-military, with military efficiency and ruthlessness. I particularly love the story of the employee who, tasked with replacing an entire broadleaf woodland with a conifer plantation, took the brilliant approach of planting the conifers around the outside to hide the fact that he had left the bulk of the woodland intact. This book is filled with the actions of such people, to whom we owe a great debt for at least restricting the destruction that was being carried out across the entire country.
This well-written, fascinating and haunting book features the voices of those who cut down the woods and those who saved what was left. It explains what ancient woodland is, where it was and what remains of it, and its unique ecology and benefits. It is also a wake-up call to all those who believe that the threat to our woodlands is over - more than 100 hectares of ancient woodland has been lost over the past 10 years and HS2 threatens to destroy or seriously affect a further 63 ancient woods. With the benefit of hindsight it is difficult to understand how such destruction was allowed, let alone encouraged. However, we still live in a society where protections are regarded as an unnecessary hindrance when there is money to be made.
I would easily place this book on the ‘must read’ list of anyone interested in the environment and conservation.
Pathlands: 21 Tranquil Walks Among the Villages of Britain by Peter Owen Jones
Through his TV programmes, exploring the South Downs and the New Forest, I have become a big fan of Peter Owen Jones’ reverential and eloquent presentation style. It is a style that comes through in this thoughtful and lyrical book of 21 circular walks, to the point where I could hear him in my head voicing the words on the page.
The walks span the length and breadth of the British Isles with its varied landscapes and celebrate the freedom of walking. “When we walk, we walk through two landscapes: an exterior land of trees, seas, cities, mountains and fields but we also follow the paths that lead into our own interior world.”
The walks are full of poetic observations and descriptions, in which the author comes across as a man at one with the natural world and all of its beauty. Along the way he describes the native flora and fauna and evokes the sights, sounds and smells of the countryside. These are entwined with the history of the landscape and its people, childhood reminiscences, reflections upon the state of our modern society, and conversations with the people he encounters. “The paths of the British mainland are one of the greatest jewels and legacies left to us by all who have walked them.” These are a series of walks that are full of perception and spiritual insight.
He also humorously describes the many challenges that face the adventurous walker who is undeterred by either season or weather: footpaths that suddenly disappear, or never appeared in the first place, or have been lost beneath the plough; misleading directions; negotiating unexpected streams, ditches, bogs, hedges, fences, barbed wire and unfriendly livestock; and the confusion of convincing yourself that you are somewhere on the map where you are not.
Whether or not you do any of the walks (for which maps are directions are included), this is an enchanting book, one of the best I have read on the simple joys of walking, written with an obvious love of nature. Reading it is not so much a disassociated following of someone else’s journey, it is more a participation in the meditation on the beauty of the British countryside.
The walks span the length and breadth of the British Isles with its varied landscapes and celebrate the freedom of walking. “When we walk, we walk through two landscapes: an exterior land of trees, seas, cities, mountains and fields but we also follow the paths that lead into our own interior world.”
The walks are full of poetic observations and descriptions, in which the author comes across as a man at one with the natural world and all of its beauty. Along the way he describes the native flora and fauna and evokes the sights, sounds and smells of the countryside. These are entwined with the history of the landscape and its people, childhood reminiscences, reflections upon the state of our modern society, and conversations with the people he encounters. “The paths of the British mainland are one of the greatest jewels and legacies left to us by all who have walked them.” These are a series of walks that are full of perception and spiritual insight.
He also humorously describes the many challenges that face the adventurous walker who is undeterred by either season or weather: footpaths that suddenly disappear, or never appeared in the first place, or have been lost beneath the plough; misleading directions; negotiating unexpected streams, ditches, bogs, hedges, fences, barbed wire and unfriendly livestock; and the confusion of convincing yourself that you are somewhere on the map where you are not.
Whether or not you do any of the walks (for which maps are directions are included), this is an enchanting book, one of the best I have read on the simple joys of walking, written with an obvious love of nature. Reading it is not so much a disassociated following of someone else’s journey, it is more a participation in the meditation on the beauty of the British countryside.
The Pebbles on the Beach by Clarence Ellis
Originally published in 1954 and recently reprinted, this book about the simple pleasure of pebble spotting is a real delight - a guide to everything you never realised that you wanted to know about pebbles. The style of writing is very much of its time, but that gives it an old world charm, making it an informative but relaxing read.
The author goes into details about what pebbles are and how they are formed; how they travel, carried by river currents and coastal waves; and what types can be found around our coastline. He identifies the different characteristics of flint, chert, schist, onyx and agate, and the common fossils that some can contain.
The only downside is the lack of photos that would greatly aid identification, but being a 1950s publication this is not all that unexpected. The fold out cover does contain a variety of coloured drawings but I’m not sure that these would be of any real use to the novice in identifying the various types. However, if you just take the book as an enthusiastic introduction to the world of pebbles you will probably forgive it this omission. Along the way you will be introduced to a new range of vocabulary: longshore drift, fulls and swales, heliotrope, chalcedony, swash, backwash and fetch.
It also explores the art of cutting and polishing stones. However, following recent incidents of people being fined by over-zealous local authorities who take a very dim view of pebble hunting I would advise to always check the local beach by-laws before removing any.
Having read it I will probably never pick up another pebble without wondering where it came from, how it got to where it is and how long it took to form.
I am always on the lookout for books that are a bit ‘different’ from the wide range of environmental fare on offer and this book definitely falls into that category.
The author goes into details about what pebbles are and how they are formed; how they travel, carried by river currents and coastal waves; and what types can be found around our coastline. He identifies the different characteristics of flint, chert, schist, onyx and agate, and the common fossils that some can contain.
The only downside is the lack of photos that would greatly aid identification, but being a 1950s publication this is not all that unexpected. The fold out cover does contain a variety of coloured drawings but I’m not sure that these would be of any real use to the novice in identifying the various types. However, if you just take the book as an enthusiastic introduction to the world of pebbles you will probably forgive it this omission. Along the way you will be introduced to a new range of vocabulary: longshore drift, fulls and swales, heliotrope, chalcedony, swash, backwash and fetch.
It also explores the art of cutting and polishing stones. However, following recent incidents of people being fined by over-zealous local authorities who take a very dim view of pebble hunting I would advise to always check the local beach by-laws before removing any.
Having read it I will probably never pick up another pebble without wondering where it came from, how it got to where it is and how long it took to form.
I am always on the lookout for books that are a bit ‘different’ from the wide range of environmental fare on offer and this book definitely falls into that category.
Silent Spring Revisited by Conor Mark Jameson
American scientist and author Rachel Carson is said to have sparked the modern day environmental movement with the publication of Silent Spring in 1962 (based upon her study of the environmental impacts of synthetic pesticides), in which she painted the prospect of life without birdsong. At the time, vested interests in the US tried to dismiss her warnings as the ‘emotional outburst of a sentimental woman.’
Fifty years on, Conor Mark Jameson reflects on the growth of environmentalism in Britain since Silent Spring was published, presenting a timeline from 1962 to 2012, highlighting environmental milestones and major events in conservation, popular culture and political history in Britain and worldwide. Into this he weaves his own observations and personal experiences, specifically through his work with the RSPB and his bird-related travels around the world.
The book is well researched and provides an eye-watering list of decades of ecological disasters and mismanagement. Some of the low-points, such as the Torrey Canyon disaster in 1967 (when one of the world’s biggest tankers ran aground off Land’s End, leaking more than 100,000 tonnes of crude oil into the sea) are well-known, but what this book reveals is that such disasters were to become regular occurrences for decade after decade (in the 1970s alone there were almost 100 major oil pollution incidents), killing many hundreds of thousands of sea birds and causing untold damage to marine life. The extensive catalogue of environmental damage makes for truly horrifying reading – farmland saturated with increasingly toxic chemicals; chemical, slurry and sewage run-off into our rivers; raw sewage pumped into our seas; industrial toxins pumped into the air; acid rain; and extensive habitat loss and destruction (140,000 miles of hedgerows lost between 1945 and 1980; between a third and a half of our ancient semi-natural woodland lost between 1950 and 1980; extensive stubble burning; an estimated 50,000 acres of farmland being lost to birds every year by the mid ‘70s; the destructive impact of commercial forestry; industrial scale stripping of peatlands; loss of 97% of wildflower meadows... and this is by no means an exhaustive list).
On a local level, his research highlights that in his area no fewer than 40 once common bird species are no longer heard. Spring may not be silent, but the chorus is certainly much diminished.
What comes across clearly throughout the book is the environment that existed in which industry was in a state of complete denial over its impact (blaming media hysteria in response to pressure groups) and in which successive governments dragged their feet over effective action (often creating impressive-sounding bodies that lacked funding, resources and authority, and deliberately ignoring the findings of their own commissions).
It would be great to dismiss all these events and the reactions to them as something consigned to history, but recent battles over the banning of neonicotinoids (which the UK government fought against) show that some things haven’t changed when it comes to the protection of powerful vested interests.
Overall this is an eye-opening, very readable and valuable insight into the decades during which science, resource exploitation and conservation seemed to be in almost total conflict, with our wildlife, and ultimately ourselves, paying the heavy price. It is also a period when the world’s population more than doubled, adding its own problems and pressures. If you want to know how we got to where we are today then this book is a good place to begin. The only problem is that you become so overwhelmed by the shocking list of environmental disasters and human stupidity that by the end you can find yourself almost immune to it.
However, the book ends on a positive note, pointing out nature’s amazing ability to recover and regenerate itself, if only it is given the chance.
When in 2007, the centenary of Rachel Carson’s birth, a US Senator tried to submit a resolution celebrating her legacy, the move was blocked by a Republican opponent on the grounds of what he called ‘the junk science and stigma surrounding DDT’ (one of the common toxins she tried to warn against). For all conservationists, environmentalists and those who love wildlife the fight started by Rachel Carson continues.
Fifty years on, Conor Mark Jameson reflects on the growth of environmentalism in Britain since Silent Spring was published, presenting a timeline from 1962 to 2012, highlighting environmental milestones and major events in conservation, popular culture and political history in Britain and worldwide. Into this he weaves his own observations and personal experiences, specifically through his work with the RSPB and his bird-related travels around the world.
The book is well researched and provides an eye-watering list of decades of ecological disasters and mismanagement. Some of the low-points, such as the Torrey Canyon disaster in 1967 (when one of the world’s biggest tankers ran aground off Land’s End, leaking more than 100,000 tonnes of crude oil into the sea) are well-known, but what this book reveals is that such disasters were to become regular occurrences for decade after decade (in the 1970s alone there were almost 100 major oil pollution incidents), killing many hundreds of thousands of sea birds and causing untold damage to marine life. The extensive catalogue of environmental damage makes for truly horrifying reading – farmland saturated with increasingly toxic chemicals; chemical, slurry and sewage run-off into our rivers; raw sewage pumped into our seas; industrial toxins pumped into the air; acid rain; and extensive habitat loss and destruction (140,000 miles of hedgerows lost between 1945 and 1980; between a third and a half of our ancient semi-natural woodland lost between 1950 and 1980; extensive stubble burning; an estimated 50,000 acres of farmland being lost to birds every year by the mid ‘70s; the destructive impact of commercial forestry; industrial scale stripping of peatlands; loss of 97% of wildflower meadows... and this is by no means an exhaustive list).
On a local level, his research highlights that in his area no fewer than 40 once common bird species are no longer heard. Spring may not be silent, but the chorus is certainly much diminished.
What comes across clearly throughout the book is the environment that existed in which industry was in a state of complete denial over its impact (blaming media hysteria in response to pressure groups) and in which successive governments dragged their feet over effective action (often creating impressive-sounding bodies that lacked funding, resources and authority, and deliberately ignoring the findings of their own commissions).
It would be great to dismiss all these events and the reactions to them as something consigned to history, but recent battles over the banning of neonicotinoids (which the UK government fought against) show that some things haven’t changed when it comes to the protection of powerful vested interests.
Overall this is an eye-opening, very readable and valuable insight into the decades during which science, resource exploitation and conservation seemed to be in almost total conflict, with our wildlife, and ultimately ourselves, paying the heavy price. It is also a period when the world’s population more than doubled, adding its own problems and pressures. If you want to know how we got to where we are today then this book is a good place to begin. The only problem is that you become so overwhelmed by the shocking list of environmental disasters and human stupidity that by the end you can find yourself almost immune to it.
However, the book ends on a positive note, pointing out nature’s amazing ability to recover and regenerate itself, if only it is given the chance.
When in 2007, the centenary of Rachel Carson’s birth, a US Senator tried to submit a resolution celebrating her legacy, the move was blocked by a Republican opponent on the grounds of what he called ‘the junk science and stigma surrounding DDT’ (one of the common toxins she tried to warn against). For all conservationists, environmentalists and those who love wildlife the fight started by Rachel Carson continues.
Wilding – The Return of Nature to a British Farm by Isabella Tree
I would simply sum up Wilding, based upon the revolutionary re-wilding programme implemented on the Knepp Estate (nr Horsham, West Sussex), as the most informative, inspiring and thought-provoking book I have read on the subjects of modern farming and conservation. This review could easily have been much, much longer, as there is such a wealth of information that I would have loved to have included here – but I had to draw the line somewhere!
Knepp, a 3,500 acre estate, was once intensively farmed land. However, despite the best efforts of the author and her husband, it was a farm that was failing to stay afloat, not helped by the unforgiving clay soil – a quagmire in the winter and concrete in the summer. Realising that the losses were unsustainable they took the bold and radical step to farm the estate with nature rather than against it. In 2000 they sold all their equipment and adopted a ‘hands off’ approach, with management going from intensive to bare minimum. Using free-roaming English longhorn cattle, Exmoor ponies, Tamworth pigs and red and fallow deer they changed their approach to grazing, returning the land to a complex wood pasture. The livestock are allowed to lead normal lives, forming natural groups and displaying natural behaviour, rather than being intensively managed in a way that is totally unnatural. Natural water courses were also restored (there is an interesting chapter on the reintroduction of beavers into the UK) and to a great degree the land was allowed to manage itself.
The transformation was almost instantaneous, as threatened species started to return, including many birds on the official red and amber ‘endangered’ lists. It has also become the country’s top breeding site for the elusive purple emperor butterfly. Biodiversity has rocketed and the estate has become a beacon for conservation in the UK – in 2018 it was singled out in DEFRA’s 25yr Environment Plan as an outstanding example of ‘landscape scale restoration in recovering nature’. This is the story of that transformation.
The book starts by citing numerous reports and studies that highlight a complex ecosystem in decline and on the verge of collapse, as intensive farming, development and pressures on the countryside increase each year. It is a loud wake-up call that we cannot afford to continue along our current path.
There is a very thought-provoking analysis of how the continuation of intensive farming, necessitated during the war, has led to a depletion of the soil and an increasing dependence upon chemical fertilisers, made affordable by government subsidies and a guaranteed market (long before the EU got involved). This was the start of the post-war industrialisation of farming that has eventually led to a crisis in nature. The author also demonstrates how intensive, chemical-based farming is part underpinned by colossal food wastage. However, this isn’t another ‘bash the farmers’ tirade, as it comes from someone who is a farmer and has witnessed first-hand the consequences of modern farming practices.
When it comes to conservation there are many equally thought-provoking sections of the book that question a lot of the current thinking, asking a number of questions that I have also been asking. A perfect case in point is our approach to ragwort, which is seen as public enemy number one amongst many horse owners. However, when you start to question the ‘accepted wisdom’ regarding this plant you quickly realise that many of the ‘facts’ we hold to be true quickly fall apart and that its eradication would do much more harm than good. In a similar way the book also looks at conservationists’ approach to scrub removal, grazing programmes and our understanding of habitat creation. The re-wilding project radically differs from a lot of conventional nature conservation in that it is not driven by specific goals or target species or a need to chase money. Instead, its driving principle is to establish a functioning ecosystem where nature is given as much freedom as possible.
This is a story that challenges the conventional ideas about farming, land management and conservation. It is very well-written and easy to read, containing all sorts of fascinating facts about the natural life on the estate and what happens when nature is allowed to regain control, both on a local and on a global level. It also includes accounts of other places in the world where re-wilding has taken place, and the charismatic people who have driven those initiatives. But it hasn't been easy, as opposition has come from all sides, not least conventional conservation thinking struggling to accept someone prepared to question the unquestionable.
Having provided a wealth of first-hand evidence of how the project has been of tremendous benefit to wildlife, the book ends, quite appropriately, with just some of the increasing number of studies into how the natural environment is just as important to us, especially our mental wellbeing. And as levels of stress increase and cases of mental health issues explode it is clear that our increasing disconnection with nature is a major contributor.
A wonderfully inspiring story of what can be achieved when the links are broken with intensive farming in the grip of the agri-chemical industry. It is a fascinating and dramatic story of how you sometimes have to go close to the edge before you are prepared to break out of the entrenched mindset and accepted wisdom that has never before been challenged. Read this book and restore your belief in the possibility of reversing decades of profit-driven destruction.
Knepp, a 3,500 acre estate, was once intensively farmed land. However, despite the best efforts of the author and her husband, it was a farm that was failing to stay afloat, not helped by the unforgiving clay soil – a quagmire in the winter and concrete in the summer. Realising that the losses were unsustainable they took the bold and radical step to farm the estate with nature rather than against it. In 2000 they sold all their equipment and adopted a ‘hands off’ approach, with management going from intensive to bare minimum. Using free-roaming English longhorn cattle, Exmoor ponies, Tamworth pigs and red and fallow deer they changed their approach to grazing, returning the land to a complex wood pasture. The livestock are allowed to lead normal lives, forming natural groups and displaying natural behaviour, rather than being intensively managed in a way that is totally unnatural. Natural water courses were also restored (there is an interesting chapter on the reintroduction of beavers into the UK) and to a great degree the land was allowed to manage itself.
The transformation was almost instantaneous, as threatened species started to return, including many birds on the official red and amber ‘endangered’ lists. It has also become the country’s top breeding site for the elusive purple emperor butterfly. Biodiversity has rocketed and the estate has become a beacon for conservation in the UK – in 2018 it was singled out in DEFRA’s 25yr Environment Plan as an outstanding example of ‘landscape scale restoration in recovering nature’. This is the story of that transformation.
The book starts by citing numerous reports and studies that highlight a complex ecosystem in decline and on the verge of collapse, as intensive farming, development and pressures on the countryside increase each year. It is a loud wake-up call that we cannot afford to continue along our current path.
There is a very thought-provoking analysis of how the continuation of intensive farming, necessitated during the war, has led to a depletion of the soil and an increasing dependence upon chemical fertilisers, made affordable by government subsidies and a guaranteed market (long before the EU got involved). This was the start of the post-war industrialisation of farming that has eventually led to a crisis in nature. The author also demonstrates how intensive, chemical-based farming is part underpinned by colossal food wastage. However, this isn’t another ‘bash the farmers’ tirade, as it comes from someone who is a farmer and has witnessed first-hand the consequences of modern farming practices.
When it comes to conservation there are many equally thought-provoking sections of the book that question a lot of the current thinking, asking a number of questions that I have also been asking. A perfect case in point is our approach to ragwort, which is seen as public enemy number one amongst many horse owners. However, when you start to question the ‘accepted wisdom’ regarding this plant you quickly realise that many of the ‘facts’ we hold to be true quickly fall apart and that its eradication would do much more harm than good. In a similar way the book also looks at conservationists’ approach to scrub removal, grazing programmes and our understanding of habitat creation. The re-wilding project radically differs from a lot of conventional nature conservation in that it is not driven by specific goals or target species or a need to chase money. Instead, its driving principle is to establish a functioning ecosystem where nature is given as much freedom as possible.
This is a story that challenges the conventional ideas about farming, land management and conservation. It is very well-written and easy to read, containing all sorts of fascinating facts about the natural life on the estate and what happens when nature is allowed to regain control, both on a local and on a global level. It also includes accounts of other places in the world where re-wilding has taken place, and the charismatic people who have driven those initiatives. But it hasn't been easy, as opposition has come from all sides, not least conventional conservation thinking struggling to accept someone prepared to question the unquestionable.
Having provided a wealth of first-hand evidence of how the project has been of tremendous benefit to wildlife, the book ends, quite appropriately, with just some of the increasing number of studies into how the natural environment is just as important to us, especially our mental wellbeing. And as levels of stress increase and cases of mental health issues explode it is clear that our increasing disconnection with nature is a major contributor.
A wonderfully inspiring story of what can be achieved when the links are broken with intensive farming in the grip of the agri-chemical industry. It is a fascinating and dramatic story of how you sometimes have to go close to the edge before you are prepared to break out of the entrenched mindset and accepted wisdom that has never before been challenged. Read this book and restore your belief in the possibility of reversing decades of profit-driven destruction.
Outskirts: Living Life on the Edge of the Green Belt by John Grindrod
Outskirts is part history of the green belt, part social history and part a personal memoir of the author’s childhood on a New Addington estate, right on the edge of the green belt – one of the big attractions of this book for me (apart from trying to understand more of the history behind the arbitrary drawing up of battle lines around many of our towns and cities) was that the author grew up beside Hutchinson’s Bank Nature Reserve, a site that I have helped restore and conserve over the past decade.
Ever since its creation, the country’s ‘Green belt’ (which accounts for 13% of the total land in England) has been a source of contradiction and conflict at virtually every level of our society – not least between conservationists and developers, town and country, and ‘Nimbys’ and those who consider themselves forces of progress. It has also been a political pawn, as politicians shamelessly use it to further their own party’s reputation amongst the various conflicting groups.
In his exploration of the green belt the author discovers hidden places that are often a long way from being ‘green’, including nuclear bunkers, gravel pits, factories, refineries, landfill sites, car parks and prisons, and the massive tarmac ribbon of the M25 that snakes its way through most of the green belt surrounding the capital. Much of it isn’t even environmentally friendly, with barren golf courses adding to the mix (it must say something about our society when Surrey gives more land over to golf courses than to housing). Along the way he meets planners, protestors, conservationists, farmers, foresters and residents whose passions for and against the green belt tell a fascinating tale of Britain’s post war social history.
What this book clearly demonstrates is that the need to provide housing for a growing population, while at the same time preventing the endless march of our towns and cities across the surrounding countryside, is an almost impossible problem to solve to everyone’s satisfaction.
And, as he listens to more and more diverse and entrenched opinions, we find him more frequently pausing to ask what and who it is all for. He makes the point ‘just having a green belt doesn’t actively promote anything, not even landscape conservation.’ You feel that he desperately wants to make sense of it all and to find a solution that works in most part for all the conflicting groups, but he concludes that this is extremely unlikely, as any debate quickly turns into one in which “the adults have left the room”.
He also looks at the impact of the increasing reliance on the private sector to build houses without the land being made available in large enough quantities to discourage land speculation. Interestingly, he also exposes how some counties (Surrey in particular) used the creation of the green belt to ensure that it took as little housing as possible, putting extreme pressure upon the areas within its own borders that are not designated ‘green belt’. This is a problem that has really come to the fore, with the latest Local Plans being drawn up to address future housing needs.
What ultimately comes across is that the creation of the existing green belt was very much a 1930s solution to a 1930s problem, when urban areas still had room to expand into (the so called ‘white space’). However, that space has now gone and, as the author concludes, it is highly unlikely, given today’s pressures, that, if it did not already exist, it would be created today. Neither does he hold out much hope for its future - "in a bear pit of lies and instant gratification something as abstract as a green belt ultimately stands no chance." The green belt, he suggests, used to be ‘an inspiring idea, an attempt to make order out of chaos... But then we are not beholden to people and ideas from another time.’ On the other side of the argument he clearly states that he is a supporter of some form of green belt, as life without it would be inconceivable.
However, he doesn’t just present the conflicting sides of the argument, suggesting the possibility of the ‘Copenhagen model’, where fingers of development are allowed along transport corridors and around major transport hubs. “If you want to develop sustainably and limit the distances people have to travel for work, shops, schools, the best place to put development is on the edge of towns,” rather than “pushing commuters out to the other side of the [green] girdle.”
The different threads of the book are wonderfully interwoven, with the green belt acting as a metaphor for the life surrounding the author’s childhood (with his brothers, his disabled mother and his increasingly ill father) being caught constantly between two world, neither fully one thing nor the other, a life of contradictions, where not everything is as it seems.
Whichever side of the debate you stand on this is a book that deserves to be read by a wide audience, as the only possible way to start addressing the issues we face as a society is to initially get out of our entrenched positions and accept that modern problems require modern solutions and that compromise if inevitable. If you have any sort of interest in the future of the green belt read this book.
Ever since its creation, the country’s ‘Green belt’ (which accounts for 13% of the total land in England) has been a source of contradiction and conflict at virtually every level of our society – not least between conservationists and developers, town and country, and ‘Nimbys’ and those who consider themselves forces of progress. It has also been a political pawn, as politicians shamelessly use it to further their own party’s reputation amongst the various conflicting groups.
In his exploration of the green belt the author discovers hidden places that are often a long way from being ‘green’, including nuclear bunkers, gravel pits, factories, refineries, landfill sites, car parks and prisons, and the massive tarmac ribbon of the M25 that snakes its way through most of the green belt surrounding the capital. Much of it isn’t even environmentally friendly, with barren golf courses adding to the mix (it must say something about our society when Surrey gives more land over to golf courses than to housing). Along the way he meets planners, protestors, conservationists, farmers, foresters and residents whose passions for and against the green belt tell a fascinating tale of Britain’s post war social history.
What this book clearly demonstrates is that the need to provide housing for a growing population, while at the same time preventing the endless march of our towns and cities across the surrounding countryside, is an almost impossible problem to solve to everyone’s satisfaction.
And, as he listens to more and more diverse and entrenched opinions, we find him more frequently pausing to ask what and who it is all for. He makes the point ‘just having a green belt doesn’t actively promote anything, not even landscape conservation.’ You feel that he desperately wants to make sense of it all and to find a solution that works in most part for all the conflicting groups, but he concludes that this is extremely unlikely, as any debate quickly turns into one in which “the adults have left the room”.
He also looks at the impact of the increasing reliance on the private sector to build houses without the land being made available in large enough quantities to discourage land speculation. Interestingly, he also exposes how some counties (Surrey in particular) used the creation of the green belt to ensure that it took as little housing as possible, putting extreme pressure upon the areas within its own borders that are not designated ‘green belt’. This is a problem that has really come to the fore, with the latest Local Plans being drawn up to address future housing needs.
What ultimately comes across is that the creation of the existing green belt was very much a 1930s solution to a 1930s problem, when urban areas still had room to expand into (the so called ‘white space’). However, that space has now gone and, as the author concludes, it is highly unlikely, given today’s pressures, that, if it did not already exist, it would be created today. Neither does he hold out much hope for its future - "in a bear pit of lies and instant gratification something as abstract as a green belt ultimately stands no chance." The green belt, he suggests, used to be ‘an inspiring idea, an attempt to make order out of chaos... But then we are not beholden to people and ideas from another time.’ On the other side of the argument he clearly states that he is a supporter of some form of green belt, as life without it would be inconceivable.
However, he doesn’t just present the conflicting sides of the argument, suggesting the possibility of the ‘Copenhagen model’, where fingers of development are allowed along transport corridors and around major transport hubs. “If you want to develop sustainably and limit the distances people have to travel for work, shops, schools, the best place to put development is on the edge of towns,” rather than “pushing commuters out to the other side of the [green] girdle.”
The different threads of the book are wonderfully interwoven, with the green belt acting as a metaphor for the life surrounding the author’s childhood (with his brothers, his disabled mother and his increasingly ill father) being caught constantly between two world, neither fully one thing nor the other, a life of contradictions, where not everything is as it seems.
Whichever side of the debate you stand on this is a book that deserves to be read by a wide audience, as the only possible way to start addressing the issues we face as a society is to initially get out of our entrenched positions and accept that modern problems require modern solutions and that compromise if inevitable. If you have any sort of interest in the future of the green belt read this book.
They Fought in the Fields by Nicola Tyrer
This is the fascinating story of the largely unsung Women’s Land Army (a force that would number 80,000 and during its 11-year life encompass 250,000 women) that contributed so much to victory in World War II, ensuring that the country was not starved (of food or timber) into submission. With memories from those who joined to fill in the historical background, this book tells the story of the WLA from its formation in 1938 through to the immediate post-war era and its eventual disbandment in 1950.
I have long had a fascination with the WLA and the amazing women, who hailed from a wide variety of backgrounds and careers totally unrelated to the countryside, who answered the call to play a critical role on our farms and in our forests. They were mostly thrown in at the deep end and rapidly learnt how to operate and repair machinery, rear and manage livestock, sow and harvest crops, clear land, and undertake heavy forestry work. Imagine many 17-year-olds being told today to go out and plough a field!
Totally contrary to the recruiting posters much of the work was back-breaking and tedious, undertaken in all weathers and at a time when farming was virtually on its knees – in the late 30s farming was in a deep depression and 70% of foodstuff was imported.
That they were denied a place in the Remembrance Day parades until 2000 and were not awarded an official campaign medal until 2008 is to this country’s great shame. And it was only in October 2014 that the memorial to the Women’s Land Army and Women’s Timber Corps was unveiled at the National Memorial Arboretum. They were also denied the post-war benefits afforded to all the other auxiliary services – an issue over which their commander-in-chief, Lady Denman, resigned.
In a way their lack of recognition was only in keeping with the uphill battles they faced from the outset, despite having proven their worth in the First World War. They quickly found themselves having re-overcome the same prejudices, hostility and lack of support from politicians, civil servants, farmers and farm workers (who feared they would drive down already wages that were already less than half that of the national average for unskilled workers). If it wasn’t for the indomitable spirit of Lady Denman, a woman who should rank high amongst this country’s most influential women, the WLA could well have floundered in its infancy, and the entire country with it.
What really comes through in this well-written, well researched and engaging book is the ‘can do’ spirit of these women, who faced many challenges besides the work and weather – many were ill-equipped, with ill-fitting or incomplete work outfits; long hours (a basic working week of 48-50hrs), low pay (below that of a male farm worker and well below what many were earning in their civilian jobs), primitive living conditions and being treated as inferior to the other services. One particular bone of contention was that they felt they were even treated as inferior to the ‘male’ prisoners of war who also worked on the farms. As the author points out, ‘for many land girls cold, dirt, discomfort and hunger are what they remember about their bucolic experience.’
For anyone who is interested in farming and/or social history (especially during wartime), or share my fascination with the vital role of these truly remarkable women, I would highly recommend this book.
I have long had a fascination with the WLA and the amazing women, who hailed from a wide variety of backgrounds and careers totally unrelated to the countryside, who answered the call to play a critical role on our farms and in our forests. They were mostly thrown in at the deep end and rapidly learnt how to operate and repair machinery, rear and manage livestock, sow and harvest crops, clear land, and undertake heavy forestry work. Imagine many 17-year-olds being told today to go out and plough a field!
Totally contrary to the recruiting posters much of the work was back-breaking and tedious, undertaken in all weathers and at a time when farming was virtually on its knees – in the late 30s farming was in a deep depression and 70% of foodstuff was imported.
That they were denied a place in the Remembrance Day parades until 2000 and were not awarded an official campaign medal until 2008 is to this country’s great shame. And it was only in October 2014 that the memorial to the Women’s Land Army and Women’s Timber Corps was unveiled at the National Memorial Arboretum. They were also denied the post-war benefits afforded to all the other auxiliary services – an issue over which their commander-in-chief, Lady Denman, resigned.
In a way their lack of recognition was only in keeping with the uphill battles they faced from the outset, despite having proven their worth in the First World War. They quickly found themselves having re-overcome the same prejudices, hostility and lack of support from politicians, civil servants, farmers and farm workers (who feared they would drive down already wages that were already less than half that of the national average for unskilled workers). If it wasn’t for the indomitable spirit of Lady Denman, a woman who should rank high amongst this country’s most influential women, the WLA could well have floundered in its infancy, and the entire country with it.
What really comes through in this well-written, well researched and engaging book is the ‘can do’ spirit of these women, who faced many challenges besides the work and weather – many were ill-equipped, with ill-fitting or incomplete work outfits; long hours (a basic working week of 48-50hrs), low pay (below that of a male farm worker and well below what many were earning in their civilian jobs), primitive living conditions and being treated as inferior to the other services. One particular bone of contention was that they felt they were even treated as inferior to the ‘male’ prisoners of war who also worked on the farms. As the author points out, ‘for many land girls cold, dirt, discomfort and hunger are what they remember about their bucolic experience.’
For anyone who is interested in farming and/or social history (especially during wartime), or share my fascination with the vital role of these truly remarkable women, I would highly recommend this book.
The Wood – The Life and Times of Cockshutt Wood by John Lewis-Stempel
Having already read and greatly enjoyed ‘Meadowland’ and ‘The Running Hare’, John Lewis-Stempel, twice winner of the Wainwright Prize for Nature Writing, has become one of my favourite nature writers. In this, his latest book (BBC Radio book of the week), he diarises his final year managing the 3.5 acre Cockshutt Wood in south-west Herefordshire – a mixed woodland with a secluded pool.
Through detailed observations he portrays the woodland he has come to know over 4 years - its trees, flowers, animals, birds and insects. It is also a refuge for the pigs, chickens and cattle from his smallholding. It quickly becomes clear that the wood is his sanctuary, a retreat from modern society, a place where he feels grounded and where his spirit is renewed. In his recollections of the everyday and commonplace he conveys his love of the wood without having to state it explicitly.
Starting in December - the beginning of winter – Lewis-Stempel uses an economy of words to observe the changes that come with the cycle of the seasons, from the viewpoint of a smallholder and man of the countryside. Everything is worthy of attention, from the smallest insect or fungus; to the resident tawny owl, badger and fox; to the migrants that suddenly arrive and just as suddenly depart; to the cattle that graze in the wood; to the oaks, beeches, elms, alders and conifers; to the life attracted by the pool. There is nothing particularly remarkable about this wood, but seen through the eyes of someone who knows how to observe it, it comes alive. He also places our woodland into its historical context, wrapped up in folklore and cultural significance.
I love some of his descriptions, such as long-tailed tits tinkling like feathered wind-chimes and the October woodland burning with autumnal colour.
One of the interesting things will be to regularly visit my local woods and then compare my observations with those featured in this book.
If I have one criticism, it is that it would have been good to have had more detail on the actual management of the wood. Whilst coppicing, fencing and hedge-laying are all mentioned, no detail is provided. Having said that there is an interesting section on the making tree hay, a practice older than cutting fields for hay, where leaves were gathered and stored for winter animal feed. However, that is just me being picky because they are all things that I get excited by.
Definitely a book I will be dipping back into time and again.
Through detailed observations he portrays the woodland he has come to know over 4 years - its trees, flowers, animals, birds and insects. It is also a refuge for the pigs, chickens and cattle from his smallholding. It quickly becomes clear that the wood is his sanctuary, a retreat from modern society, a place where he feels grounded and where his spirit is renewed. In his recollections of the everyday and commonplace he conveys his love of the wood without having to state it explicitly.
Starting in December - the beginning of winter – Lewis-Stempel uses an economy of words to observe the changes that come with the cycle of the seasons, from the viewpoint of a smallholder and man of the countryside. Everything is worthy of attention, from the smallest insect or fungus; to the resident tawny owl, badger and fox; to the migrants that suddenly arrive and just as suddenly depart; to the cattle that graze in the wood; to the oaks, beeches, elms, alders and conifers; to the life attracted by the pool. There is nothing particularly remarkable about this wood, but seen through the eyes of someone who knows how to observe it, it comes alive. He also places our woodland into its historical context, wrapped up in folklore and cultural significance.
I love some of his descriptions, such as long-tailed tits tinkling like feathered wind-chimes and the October woodland burning with autumnal colour.
One of the interesting things will be to regularly visit my local woods and then compare my observations with those featured in this book.
If I have one criticism, it is that it would have been good to have had more detail on the actual management of the wood. Whilst coppicing, fencing and hedge-laying are all mentioned, no detail is provided. Having said that there is an interesting section on the making tree hay, a practice older than cutting fields for hay, where leaves were gathered and stored for winter animal feed. However, that is just me being picky because they are all things that I get excited by.
Definitely a book I will be dipping back into time and again.
Stable Lass by Gemma Hogg
I have to say from the outset that I’m not a horse racing fan (probably stemming from endless childhood Saturday afternoons when the one TV in the house was commandeered by my dad – who would inevitably fall asleep until the moment you tried to switch channel) but I do like horses, and I was looking for something that I wouldn’t normally read. I have to say that I was not disappointed as I very much enjoyed this book.
Arriving for her first day in the stable yard as a fresh-faced teenager Gemma – who describes herself as a terrified, inept novice - very quickly discovers that, unlike the relaxed atmosphere of racing college, being a stable lass is probably one of the most demanding jobs in the country, where the days are long, the work is backbreaking, the pay is poor, the expectations high and the pressures to succeed enormous. Working at Micky Hammond’s racing stables in the Yorkshire market town of Middleham, she also soon learns that if her colleagues can be challenging, the horses can be even more so – some are a joy to work with and be around, some are difficult, and some are just plain lethal. However, she manages to overcome all the challenges to realise her dream of working with horses and working her way up to becoming a jockey. She is now an assistant trainer.
In this book she allows the reader to venture behind the closed doors of a top racing yard, from the elation of training a winning horse, through the challenges of long days in all weathers, to the grief of losing a much loved horse. She also looks at some of the changes in horse racing over the past 30 years to a sport that could be regarded as a lot more professional than it once was, especially with regards to animal welfare.
In a straight no-nonsense way she brings the variety of characters to life, from her straight-talking but supportive boss, to the jockeys starving themselves to make weight, the wealthy owners and the other stable hands who come from a range of different backgrounds – some who make the grade and some who don’t. The story is told with plenty of humour, much of it the sort of dark humour often employed when times are stressful and people are under pressure. However, it is all tempered by the camaraderie that comes with a small group of people all working towards a common goal: to train winners and build a successful business.
This is certainly a book for anyone who has ever wondered about what goes on behind the scenes of a racing yard and probably the perfect read for all horse racing fans. And the chapter ‘A Day at the Races’ recounts what it is like to be involved with horses and jockeys during a typical racing day. The dangers of jump racing are really brought home by the fact that it is one of the few sports where the participants are closely followed by an ambulance.
Having read this book I still don’t think I could ever really get into a sport where the animals put their lives on the line for little other purpose than making vast sums of money (I accept that horse racing fans will disagree), but it was a very enlightening and entertaining read nonetheless.
Arriving for her first day in the stable yard as a fresh-faced teenager Gemma – who describes herself as a terrified, inept novice - very quickly discovers that, unlike the relaxed atmosphere of racing college, being a stable lass is probably one of the most demanding jobs in the country, where the days are long, the work is backbreaking, the pay is poor, the expectations high and the pressures to succeed enormous. Working at Micky Hammond’s racing stables in the Yorkshire market town of Middleham, she also soon learns that if her colleagues can be challenging, the horses can be even more so – some are a joy to work with and be around, some are difficult, and some are just plain lethal. However, she manages to overcome all the challenges to realise her dream of working with horses and working her way up to becoming a jockey. She is now an assistant trainer.
In this book she allows the reader to venture behind the closed doors of a top racing yard, from the elation of training a winning horse, through the challenges of long days in all weathers, to the grief of losing a much loved horse. She also looks at some of the changes in horse racing over the past 30 years to a sport that could be regarded as a lot more professional than it once was, especially with regards to animal welfare.
In a straight no-nonsense way she brings the variety of characters to life, from her straight-talking but supportive boss, to the jockeys starving themselves to make weight, the wealthy owners and the other stable hands who come from a range of different backgrounds – some who make the grade and some who don’t. The story is told with plenty of humour, much of it the sort of dark humour often employed when times are stressful and people are under pressure. However, it is all tempered by the camaraderie that comes with a small group of people all working towards a common goal: to train winners and build a successful business.
This is certainly a book for anyone who has ever wondered about what goes on behind the scenes of a racing yard and probably the perfect read for all horse racing fans. And the chapter ‘A Day at the Races’ recounts what it is like to be involved with horses and jockeys during a typical racing day. The dangers of jump racing are really brought home by the fact that it is one of the few sports where the participants are closely followed by an ambulance.
Having read this book I still don’t think I could ever really get into a sport where the animals put their lives on the line for little other purpose than making vast sums of money (I accept that horse racing fans will disagree), but it was a very enlightening and entertaining read nonetheless.
Wild Hares and Hummingbirds by Stephen Moss
Taking inspiration from Gilbert White's 1789 book The Natural History of Selborne, this book is based upon a year in and around the author’s village on the Somerset Levels, an area rich in wildlife, from badgers and foxes, to butterflies and moths, to migrant and resident birds to the teeming river life to the wildflowers that support myriad species of insect. The author tracks the changes in his parish that are brought about by the cycle of the seasons and the ever-changing weather (the book happens to coincide with the hardest winter for 30 years), during a time that is increasing difficult for wildlife, with constant pressure and demands put upon our countryside through farming, development and recreation.
Although interesting and informative I was, however, a bit disappointed that it was so heavily weighted towards birds, whereas there is a whole swathe of wildlife that, although getting mentioned, I felt were more bit-parts supporting the main actors: the birds. Even the hares and hummingbird hawkmoths of the title barely feature, which I found somewhat misleading and frustrating, as I was hoping to find far more informative passages relating to both.
And the author does fall into the trap of over-sentimentalising nature, most noticeably when he questions whether, if we lose a particular species of bird from the countryside, it is still countryside. This seems a strange view as we have lost and gained numerous species over the centuries without our countryside being lost as a result. To draw the conclusion he seems to want to lead us to is too depressing to contemplate and I shied away from it. I agree that the loss of any species is cause for concern, but this was an over-dramatization that failed to carry me with it. And again he seemed to concentrate almost entirely upon the impact of bird species losses, when the loss of our bees and valuable pollinators is, I would argue, a far more critical concern.
Unusually for me I finished the book not really sure how I felt about it. For the most part I enjoyed it but I did feel that so much that could have been included had either been brushed over or missed. This narrowing of the scope was okay at first but I found that after a while it forced the book to become a bit repetitive – migrant birds were either arriving or he was looking forward to them arriving, or they were leaving or he was anticipating them leaving. For me this became an issue when in July, when the countryside is at its height, he started to anticipate autumn’s decline and the loss of the migrant birds. What about all the wildflowers, the butterflies, the bees, the offspring of numerous mammals, the teeming rivers? There is far too much happening to take the pessimistic view that the countryside is already in decline. It was at this point that my interest began to wane. On the plus side, where he has a keen interest, he writes with enthusiasm and insight (and thankfully with a lack of the overly poetic prose that seems to creep into a lot of nature writing). However, it is my opinion that bird lovers will find more to enthuse over than the general naturalist.
However, one aspect of the book that is worth taking away at its conclusion is that there is so much to be discovered in our local area (although not just birds), be it urban or rural, if only we take the time to look closely. A lot of his general observations could easily relate to anywhere in the country, as we all live surrounded by wildlife that has adapted to the environments that we have created.
Just as the book left me in two minds I can only conclude by saying that I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it and I wouldn’t necessarily not recommend it. I can fully understand why some people will love it and why some people won’t, but I suspect that the majority will fall somewhere inbetween.
Although interesting and informative I was, however, a bit disappointed that it was so heavily weighted towards birds, whereas there is a whole swathe of wildlife that, although getting mentioned, I felt were more bit-parts supporting the main actors: the birds. Even the hares and hummingbird hawkmoths of the title barely feature, which I found somewhat misleading and frustrating, as I was hoping to find far more informative passages relating to both.
And the author does fall into the trap of over-sentimentalising nature, most noticeably when he questions whether, if we lose a particular species of bird from the countryside, it is still countryside. This seems a strange view as we have lost and gained numerous species over the centuries without our countryside being lost as a result. To draw the conclusion he seems to want to lead us to is too depressing to contemplate and I shied away from it. I agree that the loss of any species is cause for concern, but this was an over-dramatization that failed to carry me with it. And again he seemed to concentrate almost entirely upon the impact of bird species losses, when the loss of our bees and valuable pollinators is, I would argue, a far more critical concern.
Unusually for me I finished the book not really sure how I felt about it. For the most part I enjoyed it but I did feel that so much that could have been included had either been brushed over or missed. This narrowing of the scope was okay at first but I found that after a while it forced the book to become a bit repetitive – migrant birds were either arriving or he was looking forward to them arriving, or they were leaving or he was anticipating them leaving. For me this became an issue when in July, when the countryside is at its height, he started to anticipate autumn’s decline and the loss of the migrant birds. What about all the wildflowers, the butterflies, the bees, the offspring of numerous mammals, the teeming rivers? There is far too much happening to take the pessimistic view that the countryside is already in decline. It was at this point that my interest began to wane. On the plus side, where he has a keen interest, he writes with enthusiasm and insight (and thankfully with a lack of the overly poetic prose that seems to creep into a lot of nature writing). However, it is my opinion that bird lovers will find more to enthuse over than the general naturalist.
However, one aspect of the book that is worth taking away at its conclusion is that there is so much to be discovered in our local area (although not just birds), be it urban or rural, if only we take the time to look closely. A lot of his general observations could easily relate to anywhere in the country, as we all live surrounded by wildlife that has adapted to the environments that we have created.
Just as the book left me in two minds I can only conclude by saying that I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it and I wouldn’t necessarily not recommend it. I can fully understand why some people will love it and why some people won’t, but I suspect that the majority will fall somewhere inbetween.
Breverton's Complete Herbal: A Book of Remarkable Plants and Their Uses by Terry Breverton.
This fascinating, entertaining and informative book is a reworking of Nicholas Culpeper's “The English Physitian: or an Astrologo-physical Discourse of the Vulgar Herbs of This Nation” - first printed in 1653 (and continuously in print) it became an immediate classic reference that is as fascinating today as it was 350 years ago.
It is a treasury of over 250 herbs and spices, as well as entries on botanical gardens, the great herbalists and New World Herbs that were not included in Culpepper's original. Each entry provides a description of the herb: its appearance and botanical features, its alternative common names, snippets of interesting folklore, and a brief history of its medicinal and culinary uses, including a few unusual remedies for all manner of real and imaginary ailments. It also contains an update on the common uses of plants that have now been proven to do more harm than good – for example, the internal consumption of an infusion of comfrey has now been linked to possible liver failure.
Amongst its interesting facts are:
The author presents suggestions for creating a floral clock (based upon the times flowers are said to open and close) an astrological and elemental garden (based upon signs of the zodiac, the planets and the elements), a Mary Garden (using flowers and herbs related to the Virgin Mary and depicted in medieval religious art) and the principles of companion planting. There are also interesting pieces on plant names in folklore and the history of scented herb gardens. It is easy to underestimate herb gardens these days but they were the pharmacy of their day and were much valued for the curing of many ailments at a time when access to a doctor was the privilege of the wealthy. At the same time it is amazing how the properties of many of these plants are being rediscovered by modern medical science. There is also a look at the Doctrine of Signatures – the idea being that God had marked everything with a sign, leading to the belief that specific characteristics of a plant contained clues as to how it could be used for mankind’s benefit.
A book that sits well amongst my flower reference books for the wealth of information it adds that brings a greater depth of understanding and appreciation of the amazing plants that surround us.
It is a treasury of over 250 herbs and spices, as well as entries on botanical gardens, the great herbalists and New World Herbs that were not included in Culpepper's original. Each entry provides a description of the herb: its appearance and botanical features, its alternative common names, snippets of interesting folklore, and a brief history of its medicinal and culinary uses, including a few unusual remedies for all manner of real and imaginary ailments. It also contains an update on the common uses of plants that have now been proven to do more harm than good – for example, the internal consumption of an infusion of comfrey has now been linked to possible liver failure.
Amongst its interesting facts are:
- The poison contained in Monkshood is one of the strongest plant poisons – used by Dr George Lanson in 1881 to kill his brother-in-law in an attempt to get his inheritance. Unfortunately for him he was found guilty of murder and hanged.
- Ground Ivy was used by the Saxons to clarify, flavour and preserve beer.It remained in use until the introduction of hops in the 16th century.
- Any place where Thyme grows wild is said to be blessed by the fairies.
- Thomas Edison experimented with Goldenrod to produce rubber and the tyres of the Model T Ford given to him by Henry Ford were made of goldenrod rubber.
- Geoffrey of Anjou (father of Henry II) thrust a sprig of broom flowers into his helmet before battle so that he could be recognised by his troops.
- In 16th century Venice it became fashionable for young women to use the juice of the deadly nightshade to dilate their pupils, thereby making themselves more attractive and giving the plant its scientific name: belladonna (‘fair lady’).
The author presents suggestions for creating a floral clock (based upon the times flowers are said to open and close) an astrological and elemental garden (based upon signs of the zodiac, the planets and the elements), a Mary Garden (using flowers and herbs related to the Virgin Mary and depicted in medieval religious art) and the principles of companion planting. There are also interesting pieces on plant names in folklore and the history of scented herb gardens. It is easy to underestimate herb gardens these days but they were the pharmacy of their day and were much valued for the curing of many ailments at a time when access to a doctor was the privilege of the wealthy. At the same time it is amazing how the properties of many of these plants are being rediscovered by modern medical science. There is also a look at the Doctrine of Signatures – the idea being that God had marked everything with a sign, leading to the belief that specific characteristics of a plant contained clues as to how it could be used for mankind’s benefit.
A book that sits well amongst my flower reference books for the wealth of information it adds that brings a greater depth of understanding and appreciation of the amazing plants that surround us.
Scenes From a Smallholding and
More Scenes From a Smallholding by Chas Griffin
If you have ever dreamt of being a smallholder these very entertaining, and at times hilarious, books will either get you reaching for the latest livestock directory or cure you of your unrealistic ambitions once and for all.
In 1982 Chas Griffin leaves his safe teaching job to run a smallholding in West Wales. In the steepest of steep learning curves he takes on lambing, ploughing, hay-making, milking, marketing, bee-keeping, wine and cheese making, and livestock management, learning, amongst, many other things that pigs are committed escape artists and that bees sting.
Although not intended as a practical handbook on running a smallholding, it does contain useful tips on how to put up a polytunnel, how to grow more runner beans than you know what to do with and the ritual for starting a tractor. It also contains suggestions on why plans to sell garlic-flavoured ice-cream from a broken bicycle may not have been such a great idea, the pitfalls of producing 100lbs a week of courgettes that are too large to fit neatly into supermarket product trays and how to do battle with the army of things that want to eat or ruin your valuable cash-crop before you can harvest it. He also learns that the weather is always wrong, even when it’s perfect (and that water can become too much of a good thing); that growing a dozen 50lb pumpkins is probably a dozen too many; that planting an orchard mixes peace and optimism with frustration and angst; why keeping geese should never progress further than being a good idea; that the Aggro-Chemical industry thrives on a farmer’s fear; and that not every job takes 5 times longer than the original estimate. He also draws up and shares his plan for making £million from growing radishes.
One of the titles listed as having been originally considered for the initial book was “Seventy-two Ways of Wasting Money Quickly”.
Every now and then I come across fantastically ‘quirky’ little books that appeal to me based entirely upon the general premise – these definitely fall into that category.
With summer approaching and thoughts turning towards holidays (possibly even in West Wales), these books would make the perfect companions for sitting by the pool (possibly not in West Wales), drinking a cocktail or two.
In 1982 Chas Griffin leaves his safe teaching job to run a smallholding in West Wales. In the steepest of steep learning curves he takes on lambing, ploughing, hay-making, milking, marketing, bee-keeping, wine and cheese making, and livestock management, learning, amongst, many other things that pigs are committed escape artists and that bees sting.
Although not intended as a practical handbook on running a smallholding, it does contain useful tips on how to put up a polytunnel, how to grow more runner beans than you know what to do with and the ritual for starting a tractor. It also contains suggestions on why plans to sell garlic-flavoured ice-cream from a broken bicycle may not have been such a great idea, the pitfalls of producing 100lbs a week of courgettes that are too large to fit neatly into supermarket product trays and how to do battle with the army of things that want to eat or ruin your valuable cash-crop before you can harvest it. He also learns that the weather is always wrong, even when it’s perfect (and that water can become too much of a good thing); that growing a dozen 50lb pumpkins is probably a dozen too many; that planting an orchard mixes peace and optimism with frustration and angst; why keeping geese should never progress further than being a good idea; that the Aggro-Chemical industry thrives on a farmer’s fear; and that not every job takes 5 times longer than the original estimate. He also draws up and shares his plan for making £million from growing radishes.
One of the titles listed as having been originally considered for the initial book was “Seventy-two Ways of Wasting Money Quickly”.
Every now and then I come across fantastically ‘quirky’ little books that appeal to me based entirely upon the general premise – these definitely fall into that category.
With summer approaching and thoughts turning towards holidays (possibly even in West Wales), these books would make the perfect companions for sitting by the pool (possibly not in West Wales), drinking a cocktail or two.
In The Wake Of The Hurricane by Bob Ogley
I picked this book up at a second-hand book stall and am really glad that I didn’t just pass it by. Published in 1988 this is a pictorial and personal history that will instantly bring back lots of memories for anyone who lived through the Great Storm of ’87, when winds in excess of 100mph wreaked devastation across the south of the country, bringing down an estimated 15 million trees, including many that had stood for 200 or 300 years. Landscapes where left looking like a giant box of emptied matches.
I had left work in London on the evening the storm started, with the winds already making being outside treacherous and walking a challenge. The following day I got a first-hand view of the utter devastation as I was helping a friend move house in Kent and lost track of the number of country lanes we had to reverse back down having found our way blocked by massive fallen trees (having not long passed my driving test I learnt quite a bit about driving backwards that day!). With an estimated 100,000 miles of roads blocked we certainly could have picked a better day for driving around the countryside.
What made the storm so devastating was the fact that most trees were still in full leaf, causing them to catch the wind like giant sails. Telephone poles were upended; gas and water supplies were cut; and the National Grid failed, leaving millions of homes without power.
What really makes this book fascinating to me is that many of the pictures are of places I know well and continue to visit – Toys Hill, Ide Hill, Sevenoaks, Emmett’s garden, Chartwell, Knole, Westerham, Sheffield Park, Scotney, Reigate Hill and even one of my local lanes (Waller Lane in Caterham). What is equally amazing is to see how many of these places have recovered, although in many instances (such as Toy’s Hill) the slowly rotting hulks still litter the woodland floor as a reminder of that night.
The book is also a fitting tribute to the emergency services, professionals, military and ordinary people who pulled together to deal with the desolation and get communities up and running again. That many of the blocked roads were reopened within days speaks highly of the war-time spirit that prevailed.
No one who lived through the night of 16th October 1987 will ever forget it and, with increasing extreme weather events linked to Climate Change, this book is a timely warning of what nature can do, even in a mild and generally uneventful climate such as ours.
I had left work in London on the evening the storm started, with the winds already making being outside treacherous and walking a challenge. The following day I got a first-hand view of the utter devastation as I was helping a friend move house in Kent and lost track of the number of country lanes we had to reverse back down having found our way blocked by massive fallen trees (having not long passed my driving test I learnt quite a bit about driving backwards that day!). With an estimated 100,000 miles of roads blocked we certainly could have picked a better day for driving around the countryside.
What made the storm so devastating was the fact that most trees were still in full leaf, causing them to catch the wind like giant sails. Telephone poles were upended; gas and water supplies were cut; and the National Grid failed, leaving millions of homes without power.
What really makes this book fascinating to me is that many of the pictures are of places I know well and continue to visit – Toys Hill, Ide Hill, Sevenoaks, Emmett’s garden, Chartwell, Knole, Westerham, Sheffield Park, Scotney, Reigate Hill and even one of my local lanes (Waller Lane in Caterham). What is equally amazing is to see how many of these places have recovered, although in many instances (such as Toy’s Hill) the slowly rotting hulks still litter the woodland floor as a reminder of that night.
The book is also a fitting tribute to the emergency services, professionals, military and ordinary people who pulled together to deal with the desolation and get communities up and running again. That many of the blocked roads were reopened within days speaks highly of the war-time spirit that prevailed.
No one who lived through the night of 16th October 1987 will ever forget it and, with increasing extreme weather events linked to Climate Change, this book is a timely warning of what nature can do, even in a mild and generally uneventful climate such as ours.
The Nature Fix - Why Nature Makes Us Happier, Healthier, and More Creative by Florence Williams.
Those people who enjoy a tranquil walk in the natural environment, away from the hustle and bustle of our increasingly urbanised lives, will recognise many of the observations made in this book, which explores the relationship between nature and our well-being. However, what we may not necessarily understand is the science behind this relationship. The supporting explanations and evidence provided by the author therefore make for compelling reading. Some of the statistics relating to the impact of our modern lifestyles and environment are truly disturbing and made me seriously question why we stubbornly continue along a self-destructive path, deluded by the belief that we are somehow better off for it.
For centuries, poets, artists, musicians and philosophers have extolled the benefits of a walk in the natural world, be it woodland, heathland, flower meadows, riverside or sea shore or even the local park. In this informative and entertaining book Florence Williams sets out to discover the science behind nature's positive effects on our mental and physical well-being. While investigating the latest research she travels to fragrant cypress forests in Korea to meet the rangers who administer "forest healing programs," to the hills of Scotland and an "ecotherapeutic" approach to caring for the mentally ill, to a river trip in Idaho with Iraqi war vets suffering from PTSD, to the West Virginia mountains where she discovers how being outside helps children with ADHD and to a Swedish garden specialising in the treatment of severe work-related stress.
In the Nature Fix the author demonstrates how important our connection to nature is for our ability to function, and how even small amounts of exposure to the natural world can improve our creativity and enhance our mood. She overwhelmingly demonstrates that, at a time when our disconnection from nature is greater than ever, time in nature is not an unnecessary luxury but an essential need. Using the results of studies and scientific research from around the world the overall result is a disturbing, uplifting but overall enjoyable read about the pressures of our modern society and the health benefits of being outdoors.
Thanks to the combination of demographics (in 2008 the World Health Organisation reported that for the first time more people throughout the world live in urban areas than rural ones), technology and a society that is increasingly risk-adverse, we have moved further away from nature than any previous generation. At the same time we are increasingly burdened by chronic ailments made worse by excessive time indoors, from myopia and vitamin D deficiency to obesity, depression, loneliness and anxiety. Many experts argue that we have also grown more irritable, less social, more narcissistic, more distracted and less cognitively nimble. Recent research shows that the steady stress of urban living changes the brain in ways that can increase our chances of schizophrenia and mood disorders. On top of this have to be added the health risks associated with excessive air and noise pollution – air pollution is blamed for an estimated 2.1 million premature deaths annually (yet in the UK we still fail to take it seriously), while noise pollution (especially around airports) is linked to impacts upon reading comprehension and memory, as well as large increases in hypertension (leading to heart attacks and strokes).
On the positive side, research presented in this book has found that time spent in a natural environment can greatly increase creativity, while lowering blood pressure, heart-rates and stress levels. Studies have also shown that when people walk in nature they have far fewer negative thoughts than when they walk in a city. Even views of nature have been shown to increase worker productivity, reduce job stress, reduce aggression in inner-city residents and increase academic grades. Dutch studies have also demonstrated that living within half a mile of green space can lead to reductions in diabetes, chronic pain and migraines.
The importance of green space, especially in urban environments, was something our Victorian predecessors understood (we have them to thank for many of our urban parks and they even built their hospitals around green space, understanding the important role it played in recovery) and something that modern society has forgotten. This is a book that every urban planner should be forced to read.
One of the book’s quotes that stuck with me after I had finished reading it comes from James Balog, an adventure photographer – “The digital age is profoundly narrowing our horizons and our creativity, not to mention our bodies and physiological capabilities.”
Read this book, go outside and be at one with nature and, if you so wish, hug a tree – there is masses of supporting evidence to say that you will feel all the better for it.
For centuries, poets, artists, musicians and philosophers have extolled the benefits of a walk in the natural world, be it woodland, heathland, flower meadows, riverside or sea shore or even the local park. In this informative and entertaining book Florence Williams sets out to discover the science behind nature's positive effects on our mental and physical well-being. While investigating the latest research she travels to fragrant cypress forests in Korea to meet the rangers who administer "forest healing programs," to the hills of Scotland and an "ecotherapeutic" approach to caring for the mentally ill, to a river trip in Idaho with Iraqi war vets suffering from PTSD, to the West Virginia mountains where she discovers how being outside helps children with ADHD and to a Swedish garden specialising in the treatment of severe work-related stress.
In the Nature Fix the author demonstrates how important our connection to nature is for our ability to function, and how even small amounts of exposure to the natural world can improve our creativity and enhance our mood. She overwhelmingly demonstrates that, at a time when our disconnection from nature is greater than ever, time in nature is not an unnecessary luxury but an essential need. Using the results of studies and scientific research from around the world the overall result is a disturbing, uplifting but overall enjoyable read about the pressures of our modern society and the health benefits of being outdoors.
Thanks to the combination of demographics (in 2008 the World Health Organisation reported that for the first time more people throughout the world live in urban areas than rural ones), technology and a society that is increasingly risk-adverse, we have moved further away from nature than any previous generation. At the same time we are increasingly burdened by chronic ailments made worse by excessive time indoors, from myopia and vitamin D deficiency to obesity, depression, loneliness and anxiety. Many experts argue that we have also grown more irritable, less social, more narcissistic, more distracted and less cognitively nimble. Recent research shows that the steady stress of urban living changes the brain in ways that can increase our chances of schizophrenia and mood disorders. On top of this have to be added the health risks associated with excessive air and noise pollution – air pollution is blamed for an estimated 2.1 million premature deaths annually (yet in the UK we still fail to take it seriously), while noise pollution (especially around airports) is linked to impacts upon reading comprehension and memory, as well as large increases in hypertension (leading to heart attacks and strokes).
On the positive side, research presented in this book has found that time spent in a natural environment can greatly increase creativity, while lowering blood pressure, heart-rates and stress levels. Studies have also shown that when people walk in nature they have far fewer negative thoughts than when they walk in a city. Even views of nature have been shown to increase worker productivity, reduce job stress, reduce aggression in inner-city residents and increase academic grades. Dutch studies have also demonstrated that living within half a mile of green space can lead to reductions in diabetes, chronic pain and migraines.
The importance of green space, especially in urban environments, was something our Victorian predecessors understood (we have them to thank for many of our urban parks and they even built their hospitals around green space, understanding the important role it played in recovery) and something that modern society has forgotten. This is a book that every urban planner should be forced to read.
One of the book’s quotes that stuck with me after I had finished reading it comes from James Balog, an adventure photographer – “The digital age is profoundly narrowing our horizons and our creativity, not to mention our bodies and physiological capabilities.”
Read this book, go outside and be at one with nature and, if you so wish, hug a tree – there is masses of supporting evidence to say that you will feel all the better for it.
The Green Road Into the Trees by Hugh Thomson.
I’m not normally a greater reader of travel books, but I first encountered Hugh Thomson in his book “One Man and His Mule: Across England With a Pack Mule” and I quite liked his style of writing and the way he covers so much more than just the journey. This is quite similar in that it is not so much a travel guide, but rather more along the lines of "thoughts on the road" as the author treks from Dorset to the Wash.
Spending one summer walking 400 miles across England, from the Dorset coast to that of East Anglia, along ancient Icknield Way, Hugh explores the way the countryside has changed, its history, archaeology, legends, literature and art, and its natural world. Along the way he meets a variety of people, from farmers, farm workers and poachers, to a falconer, to parties of new-age travellers and revellers out to celebrate the summer solstice in the campsites around Stonehenge. Using his extensive knowledge of our ancestral past he is scathing of modern nostalgic schemes to evoke a past which never existed. He is appalled by rural poverty and deprivation (claiming that the inequalities and class distinctions within our society today are little changed from George Orwell’s 1930s) and he discusses ideas of English nationalism from a historian’s perspective, concluding that England hasn’t recently become a complicated and intriguing country, but that it has always been one. He also contends that we are complacent about our countryside’s beauty, which we wrongly assume to be natural.
Unlike many of the old paths, the Icknield Way, claimed by some to be the most ancient route in England, has not become a modern long-distance trail, complete with guidebooks and signposts. Instead, in parts, it is half hidden beneath trees and brambles. Travelling through rural England it avoids all major towns and cities, instead passing a series of medieval villages, important Bronze and Iron Age sites, ancient stone and wood circles, tumuli, barrows, hill carvings (some more modern than their supporting legends would have you believe), historical boundaries and hill-forts, as well as the military playground of Salisbury Plain.
Although he doesn’t hold back on his criticism – or maybe because of it - this book was quite enjoyable to read, entertaining, informative, quirky and amusing.
Spending one summer walking 400 miles across England, from the Dorset coast to that of East Anglia, along ancient Icknield Way, Hugh explores the way the countryside has changed, its history, archaeology, legends, literature and art, and its natural world. Along the way he meets a variety of people, from farmers, farm workers and poachers, to a falconer, to parties of new-age travellers and revellers out to celebrate the summer solstice in the campsites around Stonehenge. Using his extensive knowledge of our ancestral past he is scathing of modern nostalgic schemes to evoke a past which never existed. He is appalled by rural poverty and deprivation (claiming that the inequalities and class distinctions within our society today are little changed from George Orwell’s 1930s) and he discusses ideas of English nationalism from a historian’s perspective, concluding that England hasn’t recently become a complicated and intriguing country, but that it has always been one. He also contends that we are complacent about our countryside’s beauty, which we wrongly assume to be natural.
Unlike many of the old paths, the Icknield Way, claimed by some to be the most ancient route in England, has not become a modern long-distance trail, complete with guidebooks and signposts. Instead, in parts, it is half hidden beneath trees and brambles. Travelling through rural England it avoids all major towns and cities, instead passing a series of medieval villages, important Bronze and Iron Age sites, ancient stone and wood circles, tumuli, barrows, hill carvings (some more modern than their supporting legends would have you believe), historical boundaries and hill-forts, as well as the military playground of Salisbury Plain.
Although he doesn’t hold back on his criticism – or maybe because of it - this book was quite enjoyable to read, entertaining, informative, quirky and amusing.
Fingers in the Sparkle Jar by Chris Packham.
This recounting of the wildlife photographer and TV presenter’s childhood inspired his BBC documentary ‘Asperger’s and Me’ and was also voted the UK’s Favourite Nature Book.
Growing up in 1960s/70s Britain as an introverted and obsessive young boy, Chris Packham only felt at ease in the fields and woods. These were days before Asperger’s was a commonly accepted condition, so he spent much of his childhood isolated from the confusing world that surrounded him, a world that was just as incapable of understanding him. However it was only when he stole a young kestrel from its nest (something that would obviously be far less acceptable today) that he forged a close relationship that would change his life.
In this lyrical and emotionally exposing book he brings to life his childhood world of fox skulls, birds' eggs, owl pellets and jam jars. In a way it a difficult book to review, as it deals with so many deep and conflicting emotions, centred upon a world that for many will be difficult to grasp. However, his descriptions of wildlife, landscape and the characters he encounters are quite amazing and it is easy to see why the people who voted it the UK’s favourite nature book rate it so highly. His description of wading into a freezing river to try to rescue a snared fox is one that stayed with me beyond the end of the book.
Many people will know the author as a TV presenter, especially from programmes such the popular Springwatch/ Autumnwatch, but this book portrays his background in a way that viewers will never have seen, providing an insight into how the mind of a child with Asperger’s works.
The book begins with a young child who is fascinated with dinosaurs (a passion he is all too keen to share in extreme detail with anyone who will listen) and gradually extends that fascination to the natural world that surround him, even though his captive ladybirds and caterpillars die and his tadpoles sometimes get eaten – out of curiosity to experience what they taste like. His fascination then moves onto otters, before eventually settling on his overwhelming desire to own and train a kestrel. And it is around this bonding of boy and bird that a lot of the book centres. However, this is not a chapter of his life with a happy ending, and when the bird eventually fades away it is hard not to feel for the extreme loss he experiences.
This is no ordinary rags to riches celebrity autobiography, nor is it a normal linear account of one person’s life and experiences. The book jumps about a bit, mixes first person experiences with third person views of himself and includes extracts from later (2003/04) sessions with his therapist, as he tries to make sense of how events in his life conspired bring him to the deep void in which he found himself. This approach could so easily become confusing but, in my opinion, in this case it simply works. And maybe this too gives an insight into the way the mind of someone with Asperger’s works, intensely personal one moment, detached and impersonal the next.
It was surprising to learn that he wrote this book not with the intention of publishing it but as personal vessel for the outpouring of all of the resentment and bitterness that had built up within him. Before going near a publisher he showed his draft to a friend and asked if he should try and get this published and she replied: you must. She was right. Not only is this a wonderful story of wildlife and our relationship with it, it is also an important wake-up call for a country that is still failing to understand mental illness - one in which those suffering are often left to flounder without understanding or support.
I had previously found Chris Packham to be quite a frustratingly contradictory TV presenter: jokey but passionate and highly knowledgeable about nature, appealing and just a bit irritating at the same time. I always had the feeling that not only was he a lot better than he allowed himself to be portrayed, but that he knew it. However, what emerges from this book is a complex and passionate character, able to acknowledge his own idiosyncrasies and failings, and with a rare quality of being able to view himself as others see him. As a result I will certainly view him in a completely different light and hopefully with a lot more understanding.
Growing up in 1960s/70s Britain as an introverted and obsessive young boy, Chris Packham only felt at ease in the fields and woods. These were days before Asperger’s was a commonly accepted condition, so he spent much of his childhood isolated from the confusing world that surrounded him, a world that was just as incapable of understanding him. However it was only when he stole a young kestrel from its nest (something that would obviously be far less acceptable today) that he forged a close relationship that would change his life.
In this lyrical and emotionally exposing book he brings to life his childhood world of fox skulls, birds' eggs, owl pellets and jam jars. In a way it a difficult book to review, as it deals with so many deep and conflicting emotions, centred upon a world that for many will be difficult to grasp. However, his descriptions of wildlife, landscape and the characters he encounters are quite amazing and it is easy to see why the people who voted it the UK’s favourite nature book rate it so highly. His description of wading into a freezing river to try to rescue a snared fox is one that stayed with me beyond the end of the book.
Many people will know the author as a TV presenter, especially from programmes such the popular Springwatch/ Autumnwatch, but this book portrays his background in a way that viewers will never have seen, providing an insight into how the mind of a child with Asperger’s works.
The book begins with a young child who is fascinated with dinosaurs (a passion he is all too keen to share in extreme detail with anyone who will listen) and gradually extends that fascination to the natural world that surround him, even though his captive ladybirds and caterpillars die and his tadpoles sometimes get eaten – out of curiosity to experience what they taste like. His fascination then moves onto otters, before eventually settling on his overwhelming desire to own and train a kestrel. And it is around this bonding of boy and bird that a lot of the book centres. However, this is not a chapter of his life with a happy ending, and when the bird eventually fades away it is hard not to feel for the extreme loss he experiences.
This is no ordinary rags to riches celebrity autobiography, nor is it a normal linear account of one person’s life and experiences. The book jumps about a bit, mixes first person experiences with third person views of himself and includes extracts from later (2003/04) sessions with his therapist, as he tries to make sense of how events in his life conspired bring him to the deep void in which he found himself. This approach could so easily become confusing but, in my opinion, in this case it simply works. And maybe this too gives an insight into the way the mind of someone with Asperger’s works, intensely personal one moment, detached and impersonal the next.
It was surprising to learn that he wrote this book not with the intention of publishing it but as personal vessel for the outpouring of all of the resentment and bitterness that had built up within him. Before going near a publisher he showed his draft to a friend and asked if he should try and get this published and she replied: you must. She was right. Not only is this a wonderful story of wildlife and our relationship with it, it is also an important wake-up call for a country that is still failing to understand mental illness - one in which those suffering are often left to flounder without understanding or support.
I had previously found Chris Packham to be quite a frustratingly contradictory TV presenter: jokey but passionate and highly knowledgeable about nature, appealing and just a bit irritating at the same time. I always had the feeling that not only was he a lot better than he allowed himself to be portrayed, but that he knew it. However, what emerges from this book is a complex and passionate character, able to acknowledge his own idiosyncrasies and failings, and with a rare quality of being able to view himself as others see him. As a result I will certainly view him in a completely different light and hopefully with a lot more understanding.
Counting Sheep – A Celebration of the Pastoral Heritage of Britain by Philip Walling.
I wonder how many people realise that much of Britain’s wealth was once down to the humble sheep, or how the money from the wool trade built many of our magnificent abbeys, churches and even towns and villages, or how it made some individuals very, very rich. The downside is that farming of sheep was also directly responsible for the acts of Enclosure and the Highland Clearances that saw many commoners dispossessed of their land, livelihoods and historic rights.
In this entertaining and information-packed book the author takes us through the history of the impact that sheep had upon our countryside and society. It tells of the fortunes of merchants, farmers, shepherds and those whose experiments in breeding, especially since the 1700s, lead to a wide variety of breeds. We are introduced to a number of those breeds - Leicester, Swaledale, Cheviot, Scottish Blackface, Southdown, Jacob, Lincoln, Suffolk, Herdwick Merino, Texel, Norfolk Horn and Dorset Horn, to name a few – each bred to meet the joint demands of the market and the environments in which they were farmed, from the soft rolling lushness of the downland of the south, to the wilder, harsher conditions of the uplands. We also learn how the coming of the railways opened up new expanding markets, driving the demand for meat breeds. Today, with wool prices making it barely worth the shearing and lamb falling out of favour as a meat, it is difficult to imagine just how central a role sheep once played in the nation’s economy.
Fascinating and detailed, this book is full of interesting and informative history, and the characteristics and stories of the various breeds. In his extensive travels across the country, the author talks to people for whom sheep are their life and their livelihood, learning about their way of life, often little changed for generations, and the current realities of the industry. There is also a section on sheepdogs, often the shepherd’s only companion while out working.
The final chapter may be somewhat controversial, as he looks towards the future of sheep farming and expresses his reservations about the modern trend towards 're-wilding' - removing sheep from the land to enable native plants to thrive. Even at a time when overgrazing is being regarded as a major environmental issue he argues that this move may do more harm than good, as the landscape has been shaped by sheep over thousands of years.
Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed this book, which has to be a must for any sheep fan. However, even if you are not particularly interested in sheep there is enough about the impact upon British society of sheep and wool, and about the science of animal breeding to provide plenty of alternative interest.
In this entertaining and information-packed book the author takes us through the history of the impact that sheep had upon our countryside and society. It tells of the fortunes of merchants, farmers, shepherds and those whose experiments in breeding, especially since the 1700s, lead to a wide variety of breeds. We are introduced to a number of those breeds - Leicester, Swaledale, Cheviot, Scottish Blackface, Southdown, Jacob, Lincoln, Suffolk, Herdwick Merino, Texel, Norfolk Horn and Dorset Horn, to name a few – each bred to meet the joint demands of the market and the environments in which they were farmed, from the soft rolling lushness of the downland of the south, to the wilder, harsher conditions of the uplands. We also learn how the coming of the railways opened up new expanding markets, driving the demand for meat breeds. Today, with wool prices making it barely worth the shearing and lamb falling out of favour as a meat, it is difficult to imagine just how central a role sheep once played in the nation’s economy.
Fascinating and detailed, this book is full of interesting and informative history, and the characteristics and stories of the various breeds. In his extensive travels across the country, the author talks to people for whom sheep are their life and their livelihood, learning about their way of life, often little changed for generations, and the current realities of the industry. There is also a section on sheepdogs, often the shepherd’s only companion while out working.
The final chapter may be somewhat controversial, as he looks towards the future of sheep farming and expresses his reservations about the modern trend towards 're-wilding' - removing sheep from the land to enable native plants to thrive. Even at a time when overgrazing is being regarded as a major environmental issue he argues that this move may do more harm than good, as the landscape has been shaped by sheep over thousands of years.
Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed this book, which has to be a must for any sheep fan. However, even if you are not particularly interested in sheep there is enough about the impact upon British society of sheep and wool, and about the science of animal breeding to provide plenty of alternative interest.
One Man and His Mule: Across England With a Pack Mule by Hugh Thomson.
From the moment I saw this book reviewed in a magazine it went on my ‘to read’ list and it didn’t disappoint. Despite not being a great fan of travel books it appeared just the sort of quirky read that appeals to me.
In the Middle Ages mules (a cross between a male donkey and a female horse) were used to transport goods across Britain. Strong, sturdy (weight for weight they are stronger than a horse, can easily cover 20 miles a day fully loaded and have longer working lives), they were ideally for the job. In an enjoyable and quirkily entertaining read this book recounts the adventures of one man who decides he wants to revive this ancient tradition.
Using old drovers’ roads that have largely passed into disrepair, Hugh and his trusty mule, Jethro (who is only willing to carry sandwiches, water and a map), accompanied by a friendly helping hand and an ancient horse lorry, set out to travel 200 miles across England, from St Bees on the Irish Sea (the most westerly point of northern England), across the Lake District and Yorkshire Dales and Moors, to Robin Hood’s Bay on the North Sea. Along the way they discover a landscape rich in history and literary associations and encounter the interesting people who bring it to life – there’s nothing like walking with a mule to provide a conversation point.
The author also provides useful tips should you ever need to persuade a mule to do something that was not its idea in the first place. As the saying goes – you can force a horse, ask a donkey, but you leave a mule to do whatever it wants. The author also puts the mule’s reputation for being stubborn down to its intelligence and talent for self-preservation – a mule will never knowingly put itself in harm’s way. He also soon discovers that while you can wrestle a mountain bike over a stile or fence, 300kgs of mule is an entirely different proposition.
Early on the author warns that this is not a travel book or a book about nature - as he says, there are plenty of these available. Instead it is an eclectic mixture of journey log, historical notebook, social observation and agricultural and rural comment. If you are looking for a detailed travel book of places to visit, where to stay, etc, this is not the book for you. However, if you want to immerse yourself in a gentle randomly meandering ramble, with the air of having no particular place to be and no particular time to be there, then this could just be the book for you. A definite antidote to the hustle and bustle of most people’s everyday lives.
In the Middle Ages mules (a cross between a male donkey and a female horse) were used to transport goods across Britain. Strong, sturdy (weight for weight they are stronger than a horse, can easily cover 20 miles a day fully loaded and have longer working lives), they were ideally for the job. In an enjoyable and quirkily entertaining read this book recounts the adventures of one man who decides he wants to revive this ancient tradition.
Using old drovers’ roads that have largely passed into disrepair, Hugh and his trusty mule, Jethro (who is only willing to carry sandwiches, water and a map), accompanied by a friendly helping hand and an ancient horse lorry, set out to travel 200 miles across England, from St Bees on the Irish Sea (the most westerly point of northern England), across the Lake District and Yorkshire Dales and Moors, to Robin Hood’s Bay on the North Sea. Along the way they discover a landscape rich in history and literary associations and encounter the interesting people who bring it to life – there’s nothing like walking with a mule to provide a conversation point.
The author also provides useful tips should you ever need to persuade a mule to do something that was not its idea in the first place. As the saying goes – you can force a horse, ask a donkey, but you leave a mule to do whatever it wants. The author also puts the mule’s reputation for being stubborn down to its intelligence and talent for self-preservation – a mule will never knowingly put itself in harm’s way. He also soon discovers that while you can wrestle a mountain bike over a stile or fence, 300kgs of mule is an entirely different proposition.
Early on the author warns that this is not a travel book or a book about nature - as he says, there are plenty of these available. Instead it is an eclectic mixture of journey log, historical notebook, social observation and agricultural and rural comment. If you are looking for a detailed travel book of places to visit, where to stay, etc, this is not the book for you. However, if you want to immerse yourself in a gentle randomly meandering ramble, with the air of having no particular place to be and no particular time to be there, then this could just be the book for you. A definite antidote to the hustle and bustle of most people’s everyday lives.
No Nettles Required: The Reassuring Truth About Wildlife Gardening by Ken Thompson.
Ken Thompson is a plant ecologist and a lecturer at the University of Sheffield. He's also a keen gardener. In this well-written and informative book he demonstrates that, far from being expensive and time-consuming, encouraging wildlife is actually entirely compatible with your own personal approach to gardening. Just as importantly the author considers what an ideal wildlife garden doesn’t need (which could save you a fortune on that decking you were thinking of). And one of the greatest enemies of garden wildlife is our obsession with tidiness.
Containing helpful hints and tips, he illustrates how easy it is to fill our gardens with everything from foxes, frogs and mice to butterflies, bees, ladybirds and literally thousands of fascinating creepy-crawlies (invertebrates make up approx 99% of a garden’s wildlife, some nationally rare). Unsurprisingly, those who provide food and water see far more birds than those who don’t. And why should we want to? Because we'll be improving the declining biodiversity of the UK, we’ll be reconnecting with nature and we’ll be getting more from our gardens.
The book’s findings are based upon a scientific study of over 60 Sheffield gardens of different sizes, locations and composition (allied to a comprehensive study conducted by the owner of one particular Leicester garden over a 30 years period) that specifically looked at the wildlife to see if different features, such as ponds, compost heaps, trees and hedgerows, log piles and flower species, make any difference to attracting wildlife to a garden.
The book starts by asking the question `What is garden wildlife', then describes the study method and presents the results and conclusions in an easy-to-follow way that isn’t full of scientific jargon. During the course of the analysis the captured data is used to address some of the common concerns about whether any specific garden could be good for wildlife. For instance - a wildlife garden doesn't need to be big, or close to the countryside.
In fact, one of the main conclusions is that you don't need to do a lot to make a garden attractive to wildlife. It also recommends that you don't look at a garden in isolation, but rather as part of a larger, varied environment made up of a number of neighbouring gardens providing a mix of habitats and natural features, because wildlife doesn't recognise property boundaries.
For those dreaming of the perfect haven for birds, mammals, bees and butterflies, however, the author provides a bit of a reality check in that not only are you very unlikely to attract such a wide collection of desirable species but that to attract any desirable species you must also be prepared to attract undesirable species. It also dispels the myth about having to plant ‘native’ plants if you want to attract ‘native’ wildlife – in fact the author points out that not all native plants support much, if any, native wildlife. Besides, most wildlife is completely indifferent to the native/alien status of a plant. Meanwhile, trees, rotting wood, compost heaps and ponds can all play their part in encouraging the creepy-crawlies and invertebrates that signify a healthy garden.
The consistent theme throughout the book is that you will be a better wildlife gardener if you understand the wildlife in your garden – why it’s there, what it’s doing and what it needs. And anyone with a garden effectively has their own personal nature reserve, with no restrictions to access.
A book that could well change the way you view your garden and your approach to gardening.
Containing helpful hints and tips, he illustrates how easy it is to fill our gardens with everything from foxes, frogs and mice to butterflies, bees, ladybirds and literally thousands of fascinating creepy-crawlies (invertebrates make up approx 99% of a garden’s wildlife, some nationally rare). Unsurprisingly, those who provide food and water see far more birds than those who don’t. And why should we want to? Because we'll be improving the declining biodiversity of the UK, we’ll be reconnecting with nature and we’ll be getting more from our gardens.
The book’s findings are based upon a scientific study of over 60 Sheffield gardens of different sizes, locations and composition (allied to a comprehensive study conducted by the owner of one particular Leicester garden over a 30 years period) that specifically looked at the wildlife to see if different features, such as ponds, compost heaps, trees and hedgerows, log piles and flower species, make any difference to attracting wildlife to a garden.
The book starts by asking the question `What is garden wildlife', then describes the study method and presents the results and conclusions in an easy-to-follow way that isn’t full of scientific jargon. During the course of the analysis the captured data is used to address some of the common concerns about whether any specific garden could be good for wildlife. For instance - a wildlife garden doesn't need to be big, or close to the countryside.
In fact, one of the main conclusions is that you don't need to do a lot to make a garden attractive to wildlife. It also recommends that you don't look at a garden in isolation, but rather as part of a larger, varied environment made up of a number of neighbouring gardens providing a mix of habitats and natural features, because wildlife doesn't recognise property boundaries.
For those dreaming of the perfect haven for birds, mammals, bees and butterflies, however, the author provides a bit of a reality check in that not only are you very unlikely to attract such a wide collection of desirable species but that to attract any desirable species you must also be prepared to attract undesirable species. It also dispels the myth about having to plant ‘native’ plants if you want to attract ‘native’ wildlife – in fact the author points out that not all native plants support much, if any, native wildlife. Besides, most wildlife is completely indifferent to the native/alien status of a plant. Meanwhile, trees, rotting wood, compost heaps and ponds can all play their part in encouraging the creepy-crawlies and invertebrates that signify a healthy garden.
The consistent theme throughout the book is that you will be a better wildlife gardener if you understand the wildlife in your garden – why it’s there, what it’s doing and what it needs. And anyone with a garden effectively has their own personal nature reserve, with no restrictions to access.
A book that could well change the way you view your garden and your approach to gardening.
Foxes Unearthed – A Story of Love and Loathing in Modern Britain by Lucy Jones.
Having greatly enjoyed the sight of a pair of foxes regularly visiting the garden since the start of spring (favourite pics included in this post), I thought that it was high time I discovered a little bit more about an animal that has probably elicited more debate (certainly in parliament) and extreme views and emotions than any other member of our native animal kingdom. It was therefore perfectly timed for me to come across this recently published book.
Foxes are one of our largest remaining predators, with which we share so much, but of which we know so little. They live amongst us and have successfully adapted to our world, and they have influenced our culture and language, with phrases such as ‘cunning as a fox’, ‘foxy', 'outfox', 'to smell a fox', ‘set a fox to guard the chicken coup’, all being commonplace. It is also possibly the most anthropomorphised animal in existence. Over the centuries they have been perceived beautiful animals, cunning rogues, vicious and cruel pests, and worthy foes. Yet, despite the many negative human traits with which its character has been coloured, in a poll of the British public the fox came second only to the dolphin as our favourite animal. In this book the author tries to discover the truth about foxes, against a landscape of media stories (usually about rabid foxes attacking children) and opposing viewpoints, each of which carries its own complex agendas. Exploring fact, fiction, folklore and her own family history (she comes from a hunting family), she attempts to unravel why the fox incites such passionate emotions, revealing our complex relationship with one of our most loved, and most vilified, wild animals.
If there is one quote from the book that resonates on many levels it is:
"The fox's perceived villainy has much to do with our attitude to the earth and the way we treat it. The fox is a problem only in so far as it affects our own interests - and that problem is often exaggerated to suit other agendas. Intentions of spite and malevolence have been projected onto the fox for many years when, in fact, it is simply a wild animal, acting according to its nature."
This speaks not only of our increasing disconnect with nature, but of our held belief that the purpose of nature is to be exploited for our own gain and our discomfort when it refuses to conform.
I have to say that I loved this thought-provoking, informative and entertaining book. It’s very readable, well researched and written, and is full of interesting facts and folklore. It looks at the reality of the myths that have grown up to surround an animal that started life largely ignored but eventually 'rose' to become a ‘worthy’ opponent for people to hunt. The varying behaviours of the fox are examined with help from fox-keepers, conservationists (including Chris Packham) and even pest controllers paid to kill urban foxes. What comes across is a complex animal that is in equal parts shy, highly adaptable, opportunist, brazen, intelligent and a bridge between us and the natural world we inhabit.
The last section of the book is inevitably dedicated to fox-hunting as a 'traditional country sport'. In her research, the author attends a trail hunting meet, meeting both the hunters and a group of hunt saboteurs, and exploring the arguments for and against hunting, although it is quite obvious that her loyalties lie with the fox that invariably has done nothing wrong other than to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She even exposes the unspoken side of hunting where foxes were captured and released specifically to be hunted (expressing obvious concerns how this passes as seriously controlling a ruthless killer of livestock). Although I thought there was probably a little too much time spent on the hunting aspect, it shows how deeply divided and entrenched the opposing sides are and the often violent lengths some people, on both sides, will go to to support their cause.
If you are a lover of foxes, or any wildlife, or would just like to know more about them, or are interested in their impact upon the social fabric of our society, or just like a good read, I would definitely recommend this book.
Foxes are one of our largest remaining predators, with which we share so much, but of which we know so little. They live amongst us and have successfully adapted to our world, and they have influenced our culture and language, with phrases such as ‘cunning as a fox’, ‘foxy', 'outfox', 'to smell a fox', ‘set a fox to guard the chicken coup’, all being commonplace. It is also possibly the most anthropomorphised animal in existence. Over the centuries they have been perceived beautiful animals, cunning rogues, vicious and cruel pests, and worthy foes. Yet, despite the many negative human traits with which its character has been coloured, in a poll of the British public the fox came second only to the dolphin as our favourite animal. In this book the author tries to discover the truth about foxes, against a landscape of media stories (usually about rabid foxes attacking children) and opposing viewpoints, each of which carries its own complex agendas. Exploring fact, fiction, folklore and her own family history (she comes from a hunting family), she attempts to unravel why the fox incites such passionate emotions, revealing our complex relationship with one of our most loved, and most vilified, wild animals.
If there is one quote from the book that resonates on many levels it is:
"The fox's perceived villainy has much to do with our attitude to the earth and the way we treat it. The fox is a problem only in so far as it affects our own interests - and that problem is often exaggerated to suit other agendas. Intentions of spite and malevolence have been projected onto the fox for many years when, in fact, it is simply a wild animal, acting according to its nature."
This speaks not only of our increasing disconnect with nature, but of our held belief that the purpose of nature is to be exploited for our own gain and our discomfort when it refuses to conform.
I have to say that I loved this thought-provoking, informative and entertaining book. It’s very readable, well researched and written, and is full of interesting facts and folklore. It looks at the reality of the myths that have grown up to surround an animal that started life largely ignored but eventually 'rose' to become a ‘worthy’ opponent for people to hunt. The varying behaviours of the fox are examined with help from fox-keepers, conservationists (including Chris Packham) and even pest controllers paid to kill urban foxes. What comes across is a complex animal that is in equal parts shy, highly adaptable, opportunist, brazen, intelligent and a bridge between us and the natural world we inhabit.
The last section of the book is inevitably dedicated to fox-hunting as a 'traditional country sport'. In her research, the author attends a trail hunting meet, meeting both the hunters and a group of hunt saboteurs, and exploring the arguments for and against hunting, although it is quite obvious that her loyalties lie with the fox that invariably has done nothing wrong other than to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She even exposes the unspoken side of hunting where foxes were captured and released specifically to be hunted (expressing obvious concerns how this passes as seriously controlling a ruthless killer of livestock). Although I thought there was probably a little too much time spent on the hunting aspect, it shows how deeply divided and entrenched the opposing sides are and the often violent lengths some people, on both sides, will go to to support their cause.
If you are a lover of foxes, or any wildlife, or would just like to know more about them, or are interested in their impact upon the social fabric of our society, or just like a good read, I would definitely recommend this book.
Meadowland – The Private Life Of An English Field by John Lewis-Stempel.
I loved this book! And if you love the countryside and wildlife I would be very surprised if you didn’t love it too. It is beautifully written, weaving together a complex world of thoughts and observations and inter-relationships. A book about a single field may not sound very exciting but by the end of it you realise that it has been a journey well worth the taking.
In it the author records the passing of the seasons on a 40-acre farm wildflower meadow in the far west of Hereford, from winter’s bitter frosts and snowfalls, through its wildflower awakening in spring and hay cutting in summer, to autumn’s grazing. In beautiful prose it invites us to follow an intimate account of the birth, life and death of the myriad flora and fauna as the meadow plays centre stage to a wide cast of characters whose lives we follow: the badger clan, the family of foxes, the rabbit warren, the tunnelling moles, the scurrying shrews and mice, the nesting skylarks, the pair of curlews and the smaller, but no less important, bees and butterflies, insects and beetles. At the start of the book he sets the scene, “Stepping into the field is to step onto a vast square stage in which I am the last person on earth. There is not a house or person or car to be seen. It is the sort of field where, as you step in, you breathe out.”
It is also a lesson in management and conservation, consisting as it does of allowing the plants to emerge, flower and set seed during spring and summer before cutting for hay at the end of summer and then allowing the sheep and cattle to graze the new autumn grass. It is so traditional a cycle of grassland management that it amazes me that some modern conservation groups still fail to grasp it – maybe it is because, unlike the author, they fail to understand that grazing is not an end in itself. In the author’s words, “A meadow is not a natural habitat, it is a relationship between nature, man and beast.”
It is the sort of book that makes us realise just how removed from nature our modern society has become. At the end of the book there is an impressive list of the plants, animals, birds and insects that have been encountered throughout the year. I wonder how many people could indentify even half of them. But not only is it a wonderful lesson on our natural environment – one that is diminishing at an alarming rate, with up to an estimated 97% of our wildflower meadows having been lost in the last 50 years – it is also a history lesson of the land, its folklore, its song and its poetry.
My favourite quote comes from towards the end of the book: “If you want to know what happiness is, ask the man who cuts the hay.” This is one of the most beautifully written books I have read for some time and it is definitely a book I will be reading again.
In it the author records the passing of the seasons on a 40-acre farm wildflower meadow in the far west of Hereford, from winter’s bitter frosts and snowfalls, through its wildflower awakening in spring and hay cutting in summer, to autumn’s grazing. In beautiful prose it invites us to follow an intimate account of the birth, life and death of the myriad flora and fauna as the meadow plays centre stage to a wide cast of characters whose lives we follow: the badger clan, the family of foxes, the rabbit warren, the tunnelling moles, the scurrying shrews and mice, the nesting skylarks, the pair of curlews and the smaller, but no less important, bees and butterflies, insects and beetles. At the start of the book he sets the scene, “Stepping into the field is to step onto a vast square stage in which I am the last person on earth. There is not a house or person or car to be seen. It is the sort of field where, as you step in, you breathe out.”
It is also a lesson in management and conservation, consisting as it does of allowing the plants to emerge, flower and set seed during spring and summer before cutting for hay at the end of summer and then allowing the sheep and cattle to graze the new autumn grass. It is so traditional a cycle of grassland management that it amazes me that some modern conservation groups still fail to grasp it – maybe it is because, unlike the author, they fail to understand that grazing is not an end in itself. In the author’s words, “A meadow is not a natural habitat, it is a relationship between nature, man and beast.”
It is the sort of book that makes us realise just how removed from nature our modern society has become. At the end of the book there is an impressive list of the plants, animals, birds and insects that have been encountered throughout the year. I wonder how many people could indentify even half of them. But not only is it a wonderful lesson on our natural environment – one that is diminishing at an alarming rate, with up to an estimated 97% of our wildflower meadows having been lost in the last 50 years – it is also a history lesson of the land, its folklore, its song and its poetry.
My favourite quote comes from towards the end of the book: “If you want to know what happiness is, ask the man who cuts the hay.” This is one of the most beautifully written books I have read for some time and it is definitely a book I will be reading again.
A Sting in the Tale – My Adventures with Bumblebees by Dave Goulson.
Once commonly found in the UK, the short-haired bumblebee is no longer one of the species that inhabits our shores, but surprisingly still exists in New Zealand, where they have descended from bees shipped there in the 19th century. This book begins and ends with Dave Goulson’s (founder of the Bumblebee Conservation Trust) attempts to reintroduce it back into this country.
In-between is the fascinating story of the life, behaviour and evolution of our bumblebees, their importance to both the environment and food production and the blasé way in which we have overseen the reduction in their numbers, driven by the increasing loss of habitat and foodsource.
To put this into perspective and to explain the impact that we have had:
In the 1940s Britain had somewhere in the region of 15 million acres of flower-rich grassland, of which it is estimated only 250,000 acres remain – a loss of a staggering 98%!
Increased use of fertilizers has increased grass yields to the detriment of wildflowers that are outcompeted. I see this a lot when I am out and about working in the countryside where it quickly becomes obvious which fields are a haven for wildlife - especially bees - and which aren’t. It is also interesting to read about which flowers are most attractive to bees as this mirrors my own observations.
Meanwhile, increased reliance upon pesticides has also played a significant role in the reduction in bee numbers, as it stand to reason that what is designed to kill insects will also have a detrimental effect upon bees.
Larger and larger farms, such as those commonly found in East Anglia and Lincolnshire, have become wildlife and biodiversity wastelands, confining bees, amongst many other insects to ‘islands’ from which they cannot escape. Competition within these islands becomes fierce and species inbreeding results in weakened colonies that eventually fail.
Gardens became the refuge of many bumblebee species but what we remove as 'weeds' are often valuable sources of pollen and nectar. The demand for low-maintenance gardens has also seen valuable flowers replaced with patios and decking. Meanwhile, the modern flowers that are specially grown for their size and colour are often devoid of nectar or have become so oversized that bees find it impossible to reach the source.
In a huge irony, the reduction in natural bumblebee numbers has increased the reliance upon commercial bees for pollination, where millions of bees are bred in vast factories, from where they are shipped all over the world (approx 60,000 nests are annually imported from Turkey and Greece, with European factories responsible for well in excess of 1 million nests being exported worldwide). But breeding such vast numbers in close confines and shipping them long distances leads to diseases, which are then spread to the native populations when these manufactured bees inevitably escape.
All this is really bad news for our native bees upon which we rely for a whole range of everyday foodstuffs.
Many conservation books of this type can quickly get bogged down in scientific jargon that you need a degree to either understand or care about but this is not one of those books. It is well written; informative, without being ‘nerdy’; entertaining and at times humorous and even quirky. It is written by someone who has a passion for his subject and who clearly sees the importance of passing even a little bit of it on to others so that we can all try to address the mistakes of the past – because we can all do our bit by planting bee-friendly flowers and creating an environment that is attractive to these industrious and wonderful little creatures.
It is also full of interesting little facts, such as:
Male bumblebees have no sting, although they will mimic a stinging posture if threatened.
It is not true that bumblebees can only sting you once.
A hive consists of different size bees that have specific tasks and can specialise at collecting pollen from different flowers.
Another interesting aspect of this book is the insight it gives into how scientific study progresses, the real people behind the discoveries, the serendipitous events that led to them and how things often don't go to plan but may lead to answers the researcher had not originally thought of.
If you already love bumblebees I really think that you will love this book. If you don’t love bumblebees this book might just change your perception of them. And if you don’t care either way, read it anyway and you might find that by the end you care more than you realised.
In-between is the fascinating story of the life, behaviour and evolution of our bumblebees, their importance to both the environment and food production and the blasé way in which we have overseen the reduction in their numbers, driven by the increasing loss of habitat and foodsource.
To put this into perspective and to explain the impact that we have had:
In the 1940s Britain had somewhere in the region of 15 million acres of flower-rich grassland, of which it is estimated only 250,000 acres remain – a loss of a staggering 98%!
Increased use of fertilizers has increased grass yields to the detriment of wildflowers that are outcompeted. I see this a lot when I am out and about working in the countryside where it quickly becomes obvious which fields are a haven for wildlife - especially bees - and which aren’t. It is also interesting to read about which flowers are most attractive to bees as this mirrors my own observations.
Meanwhile, increased reliance upon pesticides has also played a significant role in the reduction in bee numbers, as it stand to reason that what is designed to kill insects will also have a detrimental effect upon bees.
Larger and larger farms, such as those commonly found in East Anglia and Lincolnshire, have become wildlife and biodiversity wastelands, confining bees, amongst many other insects to ‘islands’ from which they cannot escape. Competition within these islands becomes fierce and species inbreeding results in weakened colonies that eventually fail.
Gardens became the refuge of many bumblebee species but what we remove as 'weeds' are often valuable sources of pollen and nectar. The demand for low-maintenance gardens has also seen valuable flowers replaced with patios and decking. Meanwhile, the modern flowers that are specially grown for their size and colour are often devoid of nectar or have become so oversized that bees find it impossible to reach the source.
In a huge irony, the reduction in natural bumblebee numbers has increased the reliance upon commercial bees for pollination, where millions of bees are bred in vast factories, from where they are shipped all over the world (approx 60,000 nests are annually imported from Turkey and Greece, with European factories responsible for well in excess of 1 million nests being exported worldwide). But breeding such vast numbers in close confines and shipping them long distances leads to diseases, which are then spread to the native populations when these manufactured bees inevitably escape.
All this is really bad news for our native bees upon which we rely for a whole range of everyday foodstuffs.
Many conservation books of this type can quickly get bogged down in scientific jargon that you need a degree to either understand or care about but this is not one of those books. It is well written; informative, without being ‘nerdy’; entertaining and at times humorous and even quirky. It is written by someone who has a passion for his subject and who clearly sees the importance of passing even a little bit of it on to others so that we can all try to address the mistakes of the past – because we can all do our bit by planting bee-friendly flowers and creating an environment that is attractive to these industrious and wonderful little creatures.
It is also full of interesting little facts, such as:
Male bumblebees have no sting, although they will mimic a stinging posture if threatened.
It is not true that bumblebees can only sting you once.
A hive consists of different size bees that have specific tasks and can specialise at collecting pollen from different flowers.
Another interesting aspect of this book is the insight it gives into how scientific study progresses, the real people behind the discoveries, the serendipitous events that led to them and how things often don't go to plan but may lead to answers the researcher had not originally thought of.
If you already love bumblebees I really think that you will love this book. If you don’t love bumblebees this book might just change your perception of them. And if you don’t care either way, read it anyway and you might find that by the end you care more than you realised.
The Ash and The Beech: The Drama of Woodland Change by Richard Mabey.
From ash die-back to the Great Storm of 1987 to Dutch elm disease, our much-loved woodlands seem to be under constant threat from a procession of natural challenges. Just when we need trees most, to help combat global warming and to provide places of retreat for us and our wildlife, they seem at greatest peril. But these dangers force us to reconsider the narrative we construct about trees and the roles we press on them.
In this now classic book, Richard Mabey looks at how, for more than a thousand years, we have appropriated and humanised trees, turning them into arboreal pets, status symbols, expressions of fashionable beauty - anything rather than allow them lives of their own. And in the poetic and provocative style he has made his signature, Mabey argues that respecting trees' independence and ancient powers of survival may be the wisest response to their current crises.
This is a delightfully put together collection of observations, reflections and reminiscences about the lovely Chilterns country, focusing especially on the Beech woodlands of all sizes. It contains lots of natural history(unsurprisingly) but also (surprisingly) a fascinating review of the relationships between art and the rural environment, including some less than complimentary words on Capability Brown. The book is sensitively crafted through a deep, well informed understanding of the subject but is also rooted in some tough and very appropriate criticisms of humans efforts to " manage" the countryside.
In this now classic book, Richard Mabey looks at how, for more than a thousand years, we have appropriated and humanised trees, turning them into arboreal pets, status symbols, expressions of fashionable beauty - anything rather than allow them lives of their own. And in the poetic and provocative style he has made his signature, Mabey argues that respecting trees' independence and ancient powers of survival may be the wisest response to their current crises.
This is a delightfully put together collection of observations, reflections and reminiscences about the lovely Chilterns country, focusing especially on the Beech woodlands of all sizes. It contains lots of natural history(unsurprisingly) but also (surprisingly) a fascinating review of the relationships between art and the rural environment, including some less than complimentary words on Capability Brown. The book is sensitively crafted through a deep, well informed understanding of the subject but is also rooted in some tough and very appropriate criticisms of humans efforts to " manage" the countryside.
From Source to Sea: Notes from a 215-Mile Walk Along the River Thames by Tom Chesshyre
I am not normally a great fan of travel books, but as I have visited many of the places along London’s famous river, as well as walked and boated parts of it, worked beside it, celebrated beside it, photographed it, and crossed over many of its bridges or travelled beneath it far too many times to count, the idea of walking its entire length – from its source near Cirencester in the stunning Cotswolds, through Oxford (apparently named after a river crossing for oxen), Windsor and London, to the North Sea - has a definite appeal.
Writers, painters, photographers and ramblers aplenty have felt the pull of the Thames, England’s longest (215 miles from source to estuary) and probably most iconic river. In this book the author follows in their footsteps, strolling past historic villages (including the site of the first recorded English parliament in 890 and the signing of the Magna Carta in 1215) and towns; meadows and farmland; churches, abbeys and palaces; country estates (including the site of one of the greatest political scandals of the 20th century) and expensive riverside properties; WWII pillboxes and memorials; offices and factories; boatyards and dockyards; and the last resting places of some of the rich and famous (including the Grenadier Guard who accidentally fired the first shot at the Battle of Waterloo). He views familiar sights from a new perspective and meets a host of interesting characters along the way.
Whereas some long distance walkers seem determined to set new levels of endurance for miles walked each day, the author’s plan to complete the walk in a leisurely 21 days allows plenty of time for exploration, diversions, meeting others and the occasional stop at a convenient watering hole (leading to the conclusion that you pay a hefty premium for the privilege of eating by the water). There are also various literary references to 2 classic books based on the Thames – Kenneth Grahame’s ‘Wind in the Willows’ and Jerome K Jerome’s ‘Three Men in a Boat’, which followed part of the same route (although I was disappointed to find out that Montmorency, their faithful canine companion, was a fictional addition).
Each stop and point of interest is accompanied by snippets of information that help to explain how and why The Thames has played such a prominent role in the country’s history, not least in the rise and prosperity of the nation’s capital. It is interesting how he speculates that some of the early parts of the walk are little changed by the passage of time, with one bridge dating from around 1200. And there is plenty of humour along the way, as he meets fellow walkers, has a standoff with a herd of cattle, discovers the pitfalls of becoming addicted to outdoor clothing stores, stops at places that are surprisingly less than idyllic and even experiences a touch of ‘Thames Path rage’. He has the ability to discover insightful gems and quirkiness in the seemingly trivial. Overall, it comes across as an amazing experience.
The walk takes place in the summer after the EU referendum, so Brexit features quite often in the author’s views of the current state of the country. Whether you find these asides interesting and insightful or distracting and annoying will, I suppose, greatly depend upon which side of the debate you sit. However, it does lend a contemporary and immediate feel to the book, providing a context of the historic times and landscape through which he is wandering.
The one quote that stayed with me after finishing reading is ‘That’s the way with the Thames walk: it’s impossible to see it all in one go.’
Writers, painters, photographers and ramblers aplenty have felt the pull of the Thames, England’s longest (215 miles from source to estuary) and probably most iconic river. In this book the author follows in their footsteps, strolling past historic villages (including the site of the first recorded English parliament in 890 and the signing of the Magna Carta in 1215) and towns; meadows and farmland; churches, abbeys and palaces; country estates (including the site of one of the greatest political scandals of the 20th century) and expensive riverside properties; WWII pillboxes and memorials; offices and factories; boatyards and dockyards; and the last resting places of some of the rich and famous (including the Grenadier Guard who accidentally fired the first shot at the Battle of Waterloo). He views familiar sights from a new perspective and meets a host of interesting characters along the way.
Whereas some long distance walkers seem determined to set new levels of endurance for miles walked each day, the author’s plan to complete the walk in a leisurely 21 days allows plenty of time for exploration, diversions, meeting others and the occasional stop at a convenient watering hole (leading to the conclusion that you pay a hefty premium for the privilege of eating by the water). There are also various literary references to 2 classic books based on the Thames – Kenneth Grahame’s ‘Wind in the Willows’ and Jerome K Jerome’s ‘Three Men in a Boat’, which followed part of the same route (although I was disappointed to find out that Montmorency, their faithful canine companion, was a fictional addition).
Each stop and point of interest is accompanied by snippets of information that help to explain how and why The Thames has played such a prominent role in the country’s history, not least in the rise and prosperity of the nation’s capital. It is interesting how he speculates that some of the early parts of the walk are little changed by the passage of time, with one bridge dating from around 1200. And there is plenty of humour along the way, as he meets fellow walkers, has a standoff with a herd of cattle, discovers the pitfalls of becoming addicted to outdoor clothing stores, stops at places that are surprisingly less than idyllic and even experiences a touch of ‘Thames Path rage’. He has the ability to discover insightful gems and quirkiness in the seemingly trivial. Overall, it comes across as an amazing experience.
The walk takes place in the summer after the EU referendum, so Brexit features quite often in the author’s views of the current state of the country. Whether you find these asides interesting and insightful or distracting and annoying will, I suppose, greatly depend upon which side of the debate you sit. However, it does lend a contemporary and immediate feel to the book, providing a context of the historic times and landscape through which he is wandering.
The one quote that stayed with me after finishing reading is ‘That’s the way with the Thames walk: it’s impossible to see it all in one go.’
Rain: Four Walks in English Weather by Melissa Harrison
This is a short book (it can easily be read in a couple of hours) about 4 walks in different English landscapes in different seasons (Wicken Fen in January, Shropshire in April, Darent Valley in Aug & Dartmoor in October). The one thing they have in common is that each walk is conducted in wet weather. It is an observant and contemplative, if a bit too brief, exploration of one aspect of our weather. The Darent Valley walk in Kent was one that particularly caught my attention as I have featured it a few times in my posts.
If, like me, you are not a great lover of rain, this book helps to provide a different perspective, emphasising that rain is crucial to maintaining a vibrant green countryside. It also has great power, as we have witnessed in recent years, with rivers in torrent, widespread flooding and devastation. And, living in Britain, we have a very deep and close relationship with rain. As the author points out, the rain also has great impact upon our wildlife – butterflies sheltering from the damaging drops; water voles in danger of being flooded out; hares lying exposed in their forms; birds sheltering eggs and owls prevented from hunting, their feathers perfectly designed for silent flight but not designed to deal with the wet. But above all, rain has the ability to unexpectedly disrupt out plans, reminding us that when it comes to nature we are not in control.
There are also touches of folklore in relation to foretelling inclement weather, much holding no substance but some, relating to the behaviour of certain flowers having some basis. There are also some of man’s more unlikely attempts at predicting rain, such as the leech-powered storm warning system that unsurprisingly didn’t catch on.
Despite being a short book and somewhat lacking in depth of detail, it is nonetheless well written and almost poetic in its description of a landscape that fair-weather walkers will probably never experience first-hand. As the author points out – to venture out only on sunny days is to experience only half the story. A book well worth dipping into to pass a lengthy train journey or a winter’s evening.
The book ends with a definition of meteorological terms for types of rain and a list of 100 colloquial terms concerning rain, such as – smither, stoach, bange, dibble, snivey, haster, blatter, hemple, moky, rawkey and shuckish.
If, like me, you are not a great lover of rain, this book helps to provide a different perspective, emphasising that rain is crucial to maintaining a vibrant green countryside. It also has great power, as we have witnessed in recent years, with rivers in torrent, widespread flooding and devastation. And, living in Britain, we have a very deep and close relationship with rain. As the author points out, the rain also has great impact upon our wildlife – butterflies sheltering from the damaging drops; water voles in danger of being flooded out; hares lying exposed in their forms; birds sheltering eggs and owls prevented from hunting, their feathers perfectly designed for silent flight but not designed to deal with the wet. But above all, rain has the ability to unexpectedly disrupt out plans, reminding us that when it comes to nature we are not in control.
There are also touches of folklore in relation to foretelling inclement weather, much holding no substance but some, relating to the behaviour of certain flowers having some basis. There are also some of man’s more unlikely attempts at predicting rain, such as the leech-powered storm warning system that unsurprisingly didn’t catch on.
Despite being a short book and somewhat lacking in depth of detail, it is nonetheless well written and almost poetic in its description of a landscape that fair-weather walkers will probably never experience first-hand. As the author points out – to venture out only on sunny days is to experience only half the story. A book well worth dipping into to pass a lengthy train journey or a winter’s evening.
The book ends with a definition of meteorological terms for types of rain and a list of 100 colloquial terms concerning rain, such as – smither, stoach, bange, dibble, snivey, haster, blatter, hemple, moky, rawkey and shuckish.
Oak and Ash and Thorn: The Ancient Woods and New Forests of Britain by Peter Fiennes.
It is a tough time for Britain’s woodland (with 500 ancient woodands currently under threat from development) and trees (just witness Sheffield council’s planned decimation of trees in its streetscape). The UK already languishes worryingly close to the bottom of European table for tree cover (a mere 12% according to the UN 2010 survey). However, set against this we have the highest number of ancient trees.
In this book the author spends a year visiting a variety of woodlands - including ancient woodlands, newly planted woodlands and conifer plantations – investigating their creation, their decline and the constant threats they and their inhabitants face. He looks at how we have become increasingly isolated from the natural world, to the point where we are largely ambivalent to its loss. He also explores our historical connection with woodland and their power to inspire our folklore, legends, poetry and literature (snippets of which are included throughout), and even our fears of the unknown. I particularly liked the section: "The history of trees [5,000BC to 2017] in 3058 words".
The book is full of childhood reminiscences and anecdotes and is often scathing of the current belief that something can only be of value if you can pin a price tag to it. Depending upon you own personal political leanings you may or may not agree with the author’s summation of the current government’s approach to the environment, and our woodlands in particular. However, it is the role of passionate people to call things as they see them, regardless of how controversial. On one thing I have absolutely no argument, and that is that we cannot depend on our politicians to do the ‘right thing’ – they are too busy dancing to a very different tune.
The core of the book is a very personal and idiosyncratic look at the health of our woodlands. In his opinion there has never been a worse time for our woodland and trees – pests and diseases, climate change, development, neglect, economic pressures, poor management all impact greatly. What he surmises is that we live in a society that is largely uncaring – after all, why should a parcel of ancient woodland be allowed to hold back progress, especially if that progress comes with jobs. There are also lighter moments, such as his ramblings over his imagined appearance of the hairy northern wood ant.
The book ends on the uplifting story of the new Heart of England forest, which is held up as an example of how change can be made if there is the will (and benefactors) to make it happen. The author’s wish is for every person in Britain to be no more than 30 mins away from accessing their nearest woodland, a place to enjoy, to work, to play and to think. The message is that we can all get involved in planting more trees and in supporting woodland campaigns - be they for planting new woodlands, demanding protection for our ancient woodlands or fighting to protect our local woods and trees.
In this book the author spends a year visiting a variety of woodlands - including ancient woodlands, newly planted woodlands and conifer plantations – investigating their creation, their decline and the constant threats they and their inhabitants face. He looks at how we have become increasingly isolated from the natural world, to the point where we are largely ambivalent to its loss. He also explores our historical connection with woodland and their power to inspire our folklore, legends, poetry and literature (snippets of which are included throughout), and even our fears of the unknown. I particularly liked the section: "The history of trees [5,000BC to 2017] in 3058 words".
The book is full of childhood reminiscences and anecdotes and is often scathing of the current belief that something can only be of value if you can pin a price tag to it. Depending upon you own personal political leanings you may or may not agree with the author’s summation of the current government’s approach to the environment, and our woodlands in particular. However, it is the role of passionate people to call things as they see them, regardless of how controversial. On one thing I have absolutely no argument, and that is that we cannot depend on our politicians to do the ‘right thing’ – they are too busy dancing to a very different tune.
The core of the book is a very personal and idiosyncratic look at the health of our woodlands. In his opinion there has never been a worse time for our woodland and trees – pests and diseases, climate change, development, neglect, economic pressures, poor management all impact greatly. What he surmises is that we live in a society that is largely uncaring – after all, why should a parcel of ancient woodland be allowed to hold back progress, especially if that progress comes with jobs. There are also lighter moments, such as his ramblings over his imagined appearance of the hairy northern wood ant.
The book ends on the uplifting story of the new Heart of England forest, which is held up as an example of how change can be made if there is the will (and benefactors) to make it happen. The author’s wish is for every person in Britain to be no more than 30 mins away from accessing their nearest woodland, a place to enjoy, to work, to play and to think. The message is that we can all get involved in planting more trees and in supporting woodland campaigns - be they for planting new woodlands, demanding protection for our ancient woodlands or fighting to protect our local woods and trees.
Woods – A Celebration by Robert Penn
Robert Penn is the author of 'The Man Who Made Things Out of Trees' and first came to my attention in the brilliant BBC4 series 'Tales from the Wild Wood', which was set around the purchase, restoration and management of a parcel of woodland in the Black Mountains, South Wales.
Based upon the woodlands owned and managed by The National Trust (420 woods covering more than 64,000 acres), this book is a lovely tribute to the natural history of some of our most iconic British woods and trees (many of them centuries old) and associated flora and fauna. It follows the constantly evolving woodland through the seasons, from the awakening and wildflower displays of spring, to the deep cool shade and tranquillity of summer, to the brilliant colours of autumn, to the bareness of winter. It also looks at the complex relationships that make our ancient woodland one of the most amazingly complex natural environments, as well as the main species of tree that form the character of the woods and that once formed the backbone of the rural economy and industry.
Covering the length and breadth of England and Wales this book covers the natural history of our woodlands, how they have changed the face of our landscape, how they were shaped and managed (including the aftermath of the Great Storm of ’87), and why so many are now suffering – a combination of a lack of sympathetic management over the past decades (coppicing is one of few activities where nature is believed to benefit from man’s intervention), the escalation in the spread of pests and diseases and the impact of climate change. People may also be surprised to learn that the UK is one of the least wooded countries in Europe, with only approx 12% of woodland cover. What is even more surprising is that, at the time of the Domesday Book (1086), that woodland cover was just 15%.
With such a wide range of information to cover, the book does not go into any particular aspect of our woodland in great depth, so for those who are familiar with the lifecycle of our trees and woods it will probably add very little to your existing knowledge (however I hadn’t realised that more oak trees were managed for the tanning industry than for shipbuilding). However, the stunning wealth of photography alone is why I am more than happy to add this to my book collection. There is no doubt that on a wet grey day I will be taking it off the shelf and settling down with a cup of coffee to reacquaint myself with its contents.
Based upon the woodlands owned and managed by The National Trust (420 woods covering more than 64,000 acres), this book is a lovely tribute to the natural history of some of our most iconic British woods and trees (many of them centuries old) and associated flora and fauna. It follows the constantly evolving woodland through the seasons, from the awakening and wildflower displays of spring, to the deep cool shade and tranquillity of summer, to the brilliant colours of autumn, to the bareness of winter. It also looks at the complex relationships that make our ancient woodland one of the most amazingly complex natural environments, as well as the main species of tree that form the character of the woods and that once formed the backbone of the rural economy and industry.
Covering the length and breadth of England and Wales this book covers the natural history of our woodlands, how they have changed the face of our landscape, how they were shaped and managed (including the aftermath of the Great Storm of ’87), and why so many are now suffering – a combination of a lack of sympathetic management over the past decades (coppicing is one of few activities where nature is believed to benefit from man’s intervention), the escalation in the spread of pests and diseases and the impact of climate change. People may also be surprised to learn that the UK is one of the least wooded countries in Europe, with only approx 12% of woodland cover. What is even more surprising is that, at the time of the Domesday Book (1086), that woodland cover was just 15%.
With such a wide range of information to cover, the book does not go into any particular aspect of our woodland in great depth, so for those who are familiar with the lifecycle of our trees and woods it will probably add very little to your existing knowledge (however I hadn’t realised that more oak trees were managed for the tanning industry than for shipbuilding). However, the stunning wealth of photography alone is why I am more than happy to add this to my book collection. There is no doubt that on a wet grey day I will be taking it off the shelf and settling down with a cup of coffee to reacquaint myself with its contents.
A Wood of One’s Own by Ruth Pavey
The London-based author dreamt of reconnecting with the countryside and so set about buying and looking after a 4-acre mix of neglected orchard and scrubbed-over woodland in Somerset. Her aim is to shape it into her image of what it should be and create a legacy that will survive her time there – ‘Everyone who grows plants has an eye on the future, but the tree-planter is particularly given to looking forwards’. However, she soon learns the size of the task she has set herself and her own limitations as a landowner, especially as nature often has its own ideas.
Exploring her motivations, enjoyment of the peace and solitude, fears carried over from a city life (of poachers, rustlers, thieves and myriad ne’er-do-wells lurking behind bushes) and the beauty and history of the landscape she revels in the hard work associated with even the simplest of tasks – from clearing fallen trees, to planting trees and flowers and sowing grass, to repairing fences and boundaries, to restoring a pond, to creating a butterfly glade, to creating a home from home in the way of a cabin on wheels. Even buying a wheelbarrow proves less than straightforward, let alone trying to determine the right trees and plants for the heavy clay soil. And then there is the challenge that nothing newly planted goes unobserved by the inhabiting wildlife. Throughout she shares her insights into our relationship with the natural world, highlighting how disconnected from it we have become – a world that is often highly romanticised and anthropomorphised, misunderstood and deemed irrelevant in equal measures. The book contains lovely descriptions of the countryside, tales of its history and characters, some embellished by the author’s whimsical dreams of what might have been.
It would be easy to dismiss the author as another ‘down for the weekend townie’ who wants to impose her idyllic dreams on her own piece of the countryside, but you have to admire her enthusiasm, sense of purpose, determination, and her willingness to learn and admit her own mistakes and limitations. It is also a book that makes you question whether many conservationists, with their single-minded attempts to re-create the past and their lofty view of what is ‘native’ and ‘non-native’ (and therefore acceptable or unacceptable) are also in danger of missing the point of nature’s ability to adapt and survive. She also broaches a question that I have also often asked: what happens if after years of dedicated management there is no one to take it on, will it all have still been worth it?
Exploring her motivations, enjoyment of the peace and solitude, fears carried over from a city life (of poachers, rustlers, thieves and myriad ne’er-do-wells lurking behind bushes) and the beauty and history of the landscape she revels in the hard work associated with even the simplest of tasks – from clearing fallen trees, to planting trees and flowers and sowing grass, to repairing fences and boundaries, to restoring a pond, to creating a butterfly glade, to creating a home from home in the way of a cabin on wheels. Even buying a wheelbarrow proves less than straightforward, let alone trying to determine the right trees and plants for the heavy clay soil. And then there is the challenge that nothing newly planted goes unobserved by the inhabiting wildlife. Throughout she shares her insights into our relationship with the natural world, highlighting how disconnected from it we have become – a world that is often highly romanticised and anthropomorphised, misunderstood and deemed irrelevant in equal measures. The book contains lovely descriptions of the countryside, tales of its history and characters, some embellished by the author’s whimsical dreams of what might have been.
It would be easy to dismiss the author as another ‘down for the weekend townie’ who wants to impose her idyllic dreams on her own piece of the countryside, but you have to admire her enthusiasm, sense of purpose, determination, and her willingness to learn and admit her own mistakes and limitations. It is also a book that makes you question whether many conservationists, with their single-minded attempts to re-create the past and their lofty view of what is ‘native’ and ‘non-native’ (and therefore acceptable or unacceptable) are also in danger of missing the point of nature’s ability to adapt and survive. She also broaches a question that I have also often asked: what happens if after years of dedicated management there is no one to take it on, will it all have still been worth it?
The Secret Life of Cows by Rosamund Young.
An interesting little book on the intelligence (and lack of) of cows.
Based upon a childhood and subsequent career observing and interacting with cattle on an organic farm, this series of anecdotes shows them to be far more individual and interesting than many people believe. They show how cows interact, communicate and form relationships with each other, solve problems, love music, and can be intelligent, good company, boring, funny, protective, supportive, selfish, gentle, determined, aggressive, dependable, obstinate, forgiving, friendly, considerate, docile, inventive, proud, shy and wise. It certainly makes you realise how little we know about an animal that is often dismissed as ‘just another boring cow.’
In the first part of the book the author studies the merits of organic free-range livestock farming. She compares it with modern intensive farming practices, contending that no one would expect a child to develop normally when kept in cramped, unfriendly, unnatural conditions, deprived of their family unit, with restricted exercise and the same diet every day, so we should not expect animals to thrive in similar circumstances. In contrast, the calves of Kite’s Nest Farm stay with their mothers for as long as they choose, both cows and calves have the freedom to choose whether to be inside or outside and have permanent access to food and water
Livestock diseases are often caused or made worse by overcrowding, inadequate housing and poor feed quality, all of which reduces the efficiency of the immune system – especially interesting thoughts at a time when badgers are front and centre of the problem of the spread of bovine TB. The author cites claims that cattle kept in intensively managed herds are exposed to conditions comparable to those which encourage the spread of human TB in the poorest and most overcrowded parts of the world. The author also contends that intensive farming could not continue without the drugs required to combat disease and keep the animals productive. It’s a book that makes you think about the acceptability of intensive factory farming.
The one issue that isn’t addressed is how such a high welfare system could meet the consumer demand for cheap food, where supermarkets can obtain meat products from countries that have far lower animal welfare standards and are therefore able to undercut even our intensive farming system.
If you love cows this is probably the book you’ve been waiting for. And, with that time of year fast approaching, if you are looking for a quirky stocking filler for that book/animal lover this is definitely worth a punt.
Based upon a childhood and subsequent career observing and interacting with cattle on an organic farm, this series of anecdotes shows them to be far more individual and interesting than many people believe. They show how cows interact, communicate and form relationships with each other, solve problems, love music, and can be intelligent, good company, boring, funny, protective, supportive, selfish, gentle, determined, aggressive, dependable, obstinate, forgiving, friendly, considerate, docile, inventive, proud, shy and wise. It certainly makes you realise how little we know about an animal that is often dismissed as ‘just another boring cow.’
In the first part of the book the author studies the merits of organic free-range livestock farming. She compares it with modern intensive farming practices, contending that no one would expect a child to develop normally when kept in cramped, unfriendly, unnatural conditions, deprived of their family unit, with restricted exercise and the same diet every day, so we should not expect animals to thrive in similar circumstances. In contrast, the calves of Kite’s Nest Farm stay with their mothers for as long as they choose, both cows and calves have the freedom to choose whether to be inside or outside and have permanent access to food and water
Livestock diseases are often caused or made worse by overcrowding, inadequate housing and poor feed quality, all of which reduces the efficiency of the immune system – especially interesting thoughts at a time when badgers are front and centre of the problem of the spread of bovine TB. The author cites claims that cattle kept in intensively managed herds are exposed to conditions comparable to those which encourage the spread of human TB in the poorest and most overcrowded parts of the world. The author also contends that intensive farming could not continue without the drugs required to combat disease and keep the animals productive. It’s a book that makes you think about the acceptability of intensive factory farming.
The one issue that isn’t addressed is how such a high welfare system could meet the consumer demand for cheap food, where supermarkets can obtain meat products from countries that have far lower animal welfare standards and are therefore able to undercut even our intensive farming system.
If you love cows this is probably the book you’ve been waiting for. And, with that time of year fast approaching, if you are looking for a quirky stocking filler for that book/animal lover this is definitely worth a punt.
A Shepherd’s Watch by David Kennard.
I have been meaning to read this book for some time and was pleased to finally get around to it – it did not disappoint.
The author farms sheep in North Devon, where the beauty of the landscape is countered by the wet and wild weather that regularly sweep off the Atlantic. Published in 2004, it has spawned any number of similar books on the life of a modern shepherd, but this remains one of the best.
This is a book about the trials and tribulations, the highs and the lows of modern sheep farming in the UK, including the stresses and strains of lambing time where 1,000 lambs are born over a short period and where sleep during that time is at a premium. But lambing time is just the start of the challenges of a sheep’s life, as they quickly inherit the determination to do what you least expect and appear to be driven by a desire to bring about their own demise in any way possible. A precarious and dramatic mountainside rescue is just one example of the situations encountered. And then there is the damage caused by uncontrolled dogs running amok amongst livestock. All of which leads up to the make or break experience of the sales ring, where the vagaries of an up-and-down market determine the financial return for all the effort.
This is also a book about his amazing dogs and the close relationship built through training, working and trialling (where the author represented England in international competition), all of which is covered in this well-written story. The training is very interesting, dealing with and adapting to each dog’s individual characters, strengths and weaknesses. And any fans of the ‘One man and His Dog’ competitions will enjoy the sections on trialling.
Add in the tough job of being a contract shearer, backbreaking work at the best of times, and you quickly realise that he must have a real love for the life. Anyone who clings to the belief that all farmers are just in it for the money (and I have encountered many of them on social media sites) would do well to read this book for an idea of what real farming is all about.
And, as if dealing with scattered flocks of sheep and travelling around local farms shearing isn’t enough there is the all the red tape to deal with and government inspectors, often ‘inappropriate individuals who are uncorrupted by a practical knowledge of farming’ and persistent sales reps selling ‘snake-oil’.
A great read, full of lovely descriptions of the rugged landscape and its wildlife and the author’s love of his dogs and way of life.
The author farms sheep in North Devon, where the beauty of the landscape is countered by the wet and wild weather that regularly sweep off the Atlantic. Published in 2004, it has spawned any number of similar books on the life of a modern shepherd, but this remains one of the best.
This is a book about the trials and tribulations, the highs and the lows of modern sheep farming in the UK, including the stresses and strains of lambing time where 1,000 lambs are born over a short period and where sleep during that time is at a premium. But lambing time is just the start of the challenges of a sheep’s life, as they quickly inherit the determination to do what you least expect and appear to be driven by a desire to bring about their own demise in any way possible. A precarious and dramatic mountainside rescue is just one example of the situations encountered. And then there is the damage caused by uncontrolled dogs running amok amongst livestock. All of which leads up to the make or break experience of the sales ring, where the vagaries of an up-and-down market determine the financial return for all the effort.
This is also a book about his amazing dogs and the close relationship built through training, working and trialling (where the author represented England in international competition), all of which is covered in this well-written story. The training is very interesting, dealing with and adapting to each dog’s individual characters, strengths and weaknesses. And any fans of the ‘One man and His Dog’ competitions will enjoy the sections on trialling.
Add in the tough job of being a contract shearer, backbreaking work at the best of times, and you quickly realise that he must have a real love for the life. Anyone who clings to the belief that all farmers are just in it for the money (and I have encountered many of them on social media sites) would do well to read this book for an idea of what real farming is all about.
And, as if dealing with scattered flocks of sheep and travelling around local farms shearing isn’t enough there is the all the red tape to deal with and government inspectors, often ‘inappropriate individuals who are uncorrupted by a practical knowledge of farming’ and persistent sales reps selling ‘snake-oil’.
A great read, full of lovely descriptions of the rugged landscape and its wildlife and the author’s love of his dogs and way of life.
Park Life (The Memoirs of a Royal Parks Gamekeeper) by John Bartram.
Until his recent retirement John Bartram was a resident gamekeeper in London’s Richmond Park for 30 years and this book is his fascinating account of his life and work.
At 2,360 acres Richmond Park is the largest of London’s Royal Parks (3 times the size of New York’s Central Park). It is a Site of Special Scientific Interest, a Special Area of Conservation and a National Nature Reserve. It is home to a combined herd of 600 red and fallow deer. It contains approx 130,000 trees across woodland and parkland, of which oaks – some between 500 and 700 years old – make up 45%. It is home to a wide variety of wildlife, some rare. It also accommodates an estimated 5.5 million visitors per year.
The role of the gamekeeper is to ensure that the requirements of all of the park’s inhabitants, residents and visitors are managed in the most efficient and effective way possible, which includes acting as a public liaison officer, a press officer, a police liaison officer (especially when chasing escaped deer outside the park with a high-powered rifle in hands), a teacher (educating the public) and a lecturer (to conservation students). However, the main role over the author’s 30 years has been managing the deer population.
With no natural predators, deer numbers would quickly increase beyond that which the environment could support – without predation deer numbers would increase by approx 30% every year. They would rapidly graze the environment flat, eventually running out of food, to the overall detriment of the herd and the other wildlife that share and depend upon the park environment. Add to this the increasing numbers of incoming Muntjac deer and it soon becomes clear that deer numbers need to be carefully managed. A lot of the book therefore details the why, when and how of the annual cull and the impact of when deer numbers were allowed to rise out of control. Whether or not you believe in the need to cull deer to control numbers it is definitely worth reading the author’s professional viewpoint. There is also detail (some of it quite graphic) of how the deer are processed before entering the food chain as venison – it is somewhat reassuring to know that the carcasses aren’t wasted.
A large part of the job also involves dealing with sick and injured deer, and those that have been killed in traffic accidents – the park is heavily used by cars - or as part of the annual rut. Sadly, incidents involving dogs are all too common, with dog attacks and chasing a far too regular occurrence – often involving deer being chased into the oncoming traffic. It is interesting that the author finds humans to be by far the most troublesome animal in the park. People probably don’t realise how many deer have to be destroyed following the ingesting of litter, especially plastic bags, selfishly dropped and left.
Add to this a heavy schedule of supplementing the deer feed throughout the winter, dealing with vermin, catching poachers, responding to call outs day and night, and ensuring the deer gene pool remains healthy by swapping stags in and out and you soon realise that being the park’s gamekeeper is no ordinary Mon to Fri, 9 to 5 job.
A very interesting book about a very interesting life. I would highly recommend it to anyone interested in deer and environment management, or to anyone who wants an insight into what goes behind the scenes at our largest Royal Park. I would also recommend it to anyone who is unsure about the need to cull deer but are prepared to hear another viewpoint. It is in no small part down to the author that Richmond Park is said to contain the finest captive red deer herd in the country.
At 2,360 acres Richmond Park is the largest of London’s Royal Parks (3 times the size of New York’s Central Park). It is a Site of Special Scientific Interest, a Special Area of Conservation and a National Nature Reserve. It is home to a combined herd of 600 red and fallow deer. It contains approx 130,000 trees across woodland and parkland, of which oaks – some between 500 and 700 years old – make up 45%. It is home to a wide variety of wildlife, some rare. It also accommodates an estimated 5.5 million visitors per year.
The role of the gamekeeper is to ensure that the requirements of all of the park’s inhabitants, residents and visitors are managed in the most efficient and effective way possible, which includes acting as a public liaison officer, a press officer, a police liaison officer (especially when chasing escaped deer outside the park with a high-powered rifle in hands), a teacher (educating the public) and a lecturer (to conservation students). However, the main role over the author’s 30 years has been managing the deer population.
With no natural predators, deer numbers would quickly increase beyond that which the environment could support – without predation deer numbers would increase by approx 30% every year. They would rapidly graze the environment flat, eventually running out of food, to the overall detriment of the herd and the other wildlife that share and depend upon the park environment. Add to this the increasing numbers of incoming Muntjac deer and it soon becomes clear that deer numbers need to be carefully managed. A lot of the book therefore details the why, when and how of the annual cull and the impact of when deer numbers were allowed to rise out of control. Whether or not you believe in the need to cull deer to control numbers it is definitely worth reading the author’s professional viewpoint. There is also detail (some of it quite graphic) of how the deer are processed before entering the food chain as venison – it is somewhat reassuring to know that the carcasses aren’t wasted.
A large part of the job also involves dealing with sick and injured deer, and those that have been killed in traffic accidents – the park is heavily used by cars - or as part of the annual rut. Sadly, incidents involving dogs are all too common, with dog attacks and chasing a far too regular occurrence – often involving deer being chased into the oncoming traffic. It is interesting that the author finds humans to be by far the most troublesome animal in the park. People probably don’t realise how many deer have to be destroyed following the ingesting of litter, especially plastic bags, selfishly dropped and left.
Add to this a heavy schedule of supplementing the deer feed throughout the winter, dealing with vermin, catching poachers, responding to call outs day and night, and ensuring the deer gene pool remains healthy by swapping stags in and out and you soon realise that being the park’s gamekeeper is no ordinary Mon to Fri, 9 to 5 job.
A very interesting book about a very interesting life. I would highly recommend it to anyone interested in deer and environment management, or to anyone who wants an insight into what goes behind the scenes at our largest Royal Park. I would also recommend it to anyone who is unsure about the need to cull deer but are prepared to hear another viewpoint. It is in no small part down to the author that Richmond Park is said to contain the finest captive red deer herd in the country.
The Wood for the Trees by Richard Fortey.
This is the informative and entertaining story of a small 4-acre parcel of beech woodland – part of a much bigger woodland – in the Chilterns, just outside Henley. It is a journey through both a complex ecosystem and history, as the author explores the flora and fauna, and the impact that people and history have had upon it and the surrounding landscape. It also looks at how, in turn, the woodland has been instrumental in shaping that same history.
Through the year the author introduces us to the myriad species that inhabit this small piece of woodland – trees, flowers, fungi, lichens, mammals, birds, invertebrates, bats, etc – and which rely upon each other for their survival. It is a wonderful exploration of how, in nature, nothing can exist in isolation – a lesson we would do well to learn as we increasingly consume the earth’s finite resources as though they were infinite.
From pre-Roman times, through the coming of the Saxons and the Normans, through plague and civil war, and through the industrial revolution and the coming of the canals and railways this book shows how our woods have provided the backdrop to every major event that has shaped our nation, either as a direct participant (providing the raw materials that underpinned our industries and rural economy) or as an impartial observer. All these stories are interwoven into this well-written book, adding to the understanding of how our woods were used and why they were once vitally important.
And then there are the seasons, as the woodland and everything within it adapts and reacts to the continual changes and challenges of nature’s endless cycle. The book begins in April with the display of bluebells and follows the year around to March and the season of new growth.
Finally, the author looks at the future of our woods based upon an understanding that throughout history they have survived (avoiding clearance for farming) principally because they served a purpose. Once a hive of industry, today our woodlands are less managed than at any time in their long association with man.
An excellent book and one that I thoroughly enjoyed reading. Like me you may not be able to afford your own piece of woodland, but this book will certainly encourage you to explore you local woods with a deeper understanding of why trees and woodland are so deeply entwined with our nation’s psyche and identity.
Through the year the author introduces us to the myriad species that inhabit this small piece of woodland – trees, flowers, fungi, lichens, mammals, birds, invertebrates, bats, etc – and which rely upon each other for their survival. It is a wonderful exploration of how, in nature, nothing can exist in isolation – a lesson we would do well to learn as we increasingly consume the earth’s finite resources as though they were infinite.
From pre-Roman times, through the coming of the Saxons and the Normans, through plague and civil war, and through the industrial revolution and the coming of the canals and railways this book shows how our woods have provided the backdrop to every major event that has shaped our nation, either as a direct participant (providing the raw materials that underpinned our industries and rural economy) or as an impartial observer. All these stories are interwoven into this well-written book, adding to the understanding of how our woods were used and why they were once vitally important.
And then there are the seasons, as the woodland and everything within it adapts and reacts to the continual changes and challenges of nature’s endless cycle. The book begins in April with the display of bluebells and follows the year around to March and the season of new growth.
Finally, the author looks at the future of our woods based upon an understanding that throughout history they have survived (avoiding clearance for farming) principally because they served a purpose. Once a hive of industry, today our woodlands are less managed than at any time in their long association with man.
An excellent book and one that I thoroughly enjoyed reading. Like me you may not be able to afford your own piece of woodland, but this book will certainly encourage you to explore you local woods with a deeper understanding of why trees and woodland are so deeply entwined with our nation’s psyche and identity.
The Corfu Trilogy by Gerald Durrell.
The trilogy is made up of Gerald Durrell’s books ‘My Family and Other Animals’, ‘Birds, Beasts and Relatives’ and ‘The Garden of the Gods’, which recount his childhood on the Greek island of Corfu in the 1930s.
During the family’s time on the island he discovers his passion for wildlife, from toads and tortoises, bats and donkeys, scorpions and octopuses, birds and snakes and a wide variety of creatures that in equal amounts enthral, disturb and alarm the rest of his family. The book is also full of the colourful and entertaining characters he meets along the way, and the eccentricities of his family, friends and many visitors also make for very entertaining reading. And he is amusingly accompanied on his many adventures by his mentor, Theo, and his faithful dogs.
The description of the island and its smells, sounds and sights is picturesque and enchanting, and is interwoven into the tales in a way that makes it as idyllic a setting as it is possible to imagine growing up in. What a wonderful place it must have been then before tourism took off.
The retelling of the Greek King’s return to the island and the ensuing mayhem is just one of the many stories that genuinely had me laughing out loud. Whether or not many of the tales are entirely authentic is probably open to debate, but I would recommend suspending any disbelief and just enjoy them in the hope that they really did happen as written.
Whilst there is much that we might frown upon today, such as taking young birds from their nests or keeping animals in captivity, the book is a beautifully written and humorous recollection of what must have been an idyllic childhood on a sundrenched island, where formal lessons came a far second to a life of exploration, discovery and observation. It was this background that would lead Gerald Durrell to become a leading figure in conservation and the protection of endangered species - he founded Jersey Zoo in 1959 as a centre for the conservation of endangered species and created the Jersey Wildlife Conservation Trust in 1963.
If you enjoyed the recent TV series ‘The Durrells’ which was based upon these books then you will greatly enjoy this trilogy. Perfect reading material to pack in your suitcase for dipping into on holiday... maybe even on Corfu.
During the family’s time on the island he discovers his passion for wildlife, from toads and tortoises, bats and donkeys, scorpions and octopuses, birds and snakes and a wide variety of creatures that in equal amounts enthral, disturb and alarm the rest of his family. The book is also full of the colourful and entertaining characters he meets along the way, and the eccentricities of his family, friends and many visitors also make for very entertaining reading. And he is amusingly accompanied on his many adventures by his mentor, Theo, and his faithful dogs.
The description of the island and its smells, sounds and sights is picturesque and enchanting, and is interwoven into the tales in a way that makes it as idyllic a setting as it is possible to imagine growing up in. What a wonderful place it must have been then before tourism took off.
The retelling of the Greek King’s return to the island and the ensuing mayhem is just one of the many stories that genuinely had me laughing out loud. Whether or not many of the tales are entirely authentic is probably open to debate, but I would recommend suspending any disbelief and just enjoy them in the hope that they really did happen as written.
Whilst there is much that we might frown upon today, such as taking young birds from their nests or keeping animals in captivity, the book is a beautifully written and humorous recollection of what must have been an idyllic childhood on a sundrenched island, where formal lessons came a far second to a life of exploration, discovery and observation. It was this background that would lead Gerald Durrell to become a leading figure in conservation and the protection of endangered species - he founded Jersey Zoo in 1959 as a centre for the conservation of endangered species and created the Jersey Wildlife Conservation Trust in 1963.
If you enjoyed the recent TV series ‘The Durrells’ which was based upon these books then you will greatly enjoy this trilogy. Perfect reading material to pack in your suitcase for dipping into on holiday... maybe even on Corfu.
A Year in the Life of the Yorkshire Shepherdess by Amanda Owen
We seem to live in a world full of angst, with increasing pressure, especially upon women, to ‘have it all’ – the perfect job, the perfect family, the perfect house, car, holiday, clothes; the perfect life. I had this thought very much in mind while reading this highly entertaining and wonderfully written account of a year in Amanda Owen’s life, a woman who, with her husband, manages a remote 2,000 acre hill farm in the Yorkshire dales - stunning in summer, bleak in winter – where they are responsible for 900 sheep, 30 cows, a fluctuating number of horses and dogs, a collection of vehicles of varying reliability and where, during the summer months, she also provides homemade cream teas for walkers. On top of that, she has appeared on TV and radio, gives talks and has found time to write this, her second book. As if that wasn’t enough to keep anyone busy she also has 9 children (8 at the time covered by the book)! Her husband even jokes that their pet rabbits breed like humans.
In A Year in the Life of the Yorkshire Shepherdess she describes the age-old traditional cycles of a farming year and the constant challenges they face, from being cut off by snow or flooding to managing their flock on some of Yorkshire's highest, bleakest moors - land so inaccessible that in places it can only be reached on foot. In it she covers the cycles of life and death that are an everyday part of farming in a remote area, sometimes with sadness but often with wonderful humour. Her positive and inspiring attitude towards her life, her family, farming and the constant challenges makes for a wonderful story, without an ounce of angst, self-pity or pretence in sight. And her fantastic down-to-earth style gives you the impression that what you see (read) is exactly what you get. I love the bit where she is due to speak at a conference (the build-up to which is a beautifully comic tale) and shares the green room with Nick Clegg, deputy PM, without having the faintest idea who he was.
If you love the countryside, love farming, love reading about inspiring ordinary people, or simply want to read a wonderful story about someone who loves both the countryside and farming then this book is most definitely on my recommended list.
In A Year in the Life of the Yorkshire Shepherdess she describes the age-old traditional cycles of a farming year and the constant challenges they face, from being cut off by snow or flooding to managing their flock on some of Yorkshire's highest, bleakest moors - land so inaccessible that in places it can only be reached on foot. In it she covers the cycles of life and death that are an everyday part of farming in a remote area, sometimes with sadness but often with wonderful humour. Her positive and inspiring attitude towards her life, her family, farming and the constant challenges makes for a wonderful story, without an ounce of angst, self-pity or pretence in sight. And her fantastic down-to-earth style gives you the impression that what you see (read) is exactly what you get. I love the bit where she is due to speak at a conference (the build-up to which is a beautifully comic tale) and shares the green room with Nick Clegg, deputy PM, without having the faintest idea who he was.
If you love the countryside, love farming, love reading about inspiring ordinary people, or simply want to read a wonderful story about someone who loves both the countryside and farming then this book is most definitely on my recommended list.
Badgerlands - The Twilight World of Britain's Most Enigmatic Animal by Patrick Barkham.
Given the current furore and entrenched views over the government’s badger cull programme this book was a timely read, exploring the many different sides of the debate – farmers, scientists, vets, animal rights groups, conservationists, feeders, writers, celebrity supporters and those with no particular vested interest. What comes through is the fact that we have a complex and at times mystifying relationship with our wildlife.
Badgers, like foxes, are a very emotive wildlife subject, one that is too easily simplistically portrayed as a town v country battle, with the basic argument that townies know nothing about country ways and should therefore stay well away from voicing an opinion. As with successive governments’ stance on hunting, the cull of badgers to tackle the spread of bovine TB amongst cattle has only deepened the divide. Although the badger is the central character of this book, it is more about the history of our social interaction with this enigmatic creature than a natural history of the animal itself.
Starting with a consideration of why the badger holds such a special place in people’s imagination (a place that owes much to Badger in Wind In the Willows), the author spends time with a variety of badger lovers, some of whom have taken them into their own homes, and takes a no-holds-barred look at badger baiting, before investigating the background and arguments for and against the controversial badger cull. Given the greatly opposing viewpoints it must be extremely difficult to write a balanced account of the cull but, in Badgerlands, the author gets very close. And, if the sections on badger baiting don’t make you angry, then the way in which science is being selectively used to support politically driven decisions will certainly challenge the blood pressure. However, the arguments for and against the cull are presented in a balanced way, leaving the reader to make up their own mind on the matter.
The book also asks some very interesting and fundamental questions, such as – has the selective breeding of cattle for ever-higher milk yields also bred animals that are less naturally resistant to disease? and, if the effective dispatch of badgers became heavily reliant upon trapping, why couldn’t they be trapped and vaccinated instead of trapped and shot?
An excellent, at times saddening, at times maddening and occasionally amusing, book. I got through many cups of coffee reading it in long sittings, which is not something that I can say of many books. The only downside was that the book was published in 2014 before the results of the initial cull and subsequent expansion for subsequent culls could be included and analysed.
Badgers, like foxes, are a very emotive wildlife subject, one that is too easily simplistically portrayed as a town v country battle, with the basic argument that townies know nothing about country ways and should therefore stay well away from voicing an opinion. As with successive governments’ stance on hunting, the cull of badgers to tackle the spread of bovine TB amongst cattle has only deepened the divide. Although the badger is the central character of this book, it is more about the history of our social interaction with this enigmatic creature than a natural history of the animal itself.
Starting with a consideration of why the badger holds such a special place in people’s imagination (a place that owes much to Badger in Wind In the Willows), the author spends time with a variety of badger lovers, some of whom have taken them into their own homes, and takes a no-holds-barred look at badger baiting, before investigating the background and arguments for and against the controversial badger cull. Given the greatly opposing viewpoints it must be extremely difficult to write a balanced account of the cull but, in Badgerlands, the author gets very close. And, if the sections on badger baiting don’t make you angry, then the way in which science is being selectively used to support politically driven decisions will certainly challenge the blood pressure. However, the arguments for and against the cull are presented in a balanced way, leaving the reader to make up their own mind on the matter.
The book also asks some very interesting and fundamental questions, such as – has the selective breeding of cattle for ever-higher milk yields also bred animals that are less naturally resistant to disease? and, if the effective dispatch of badgers became heavily reliant upon trapping, why couldn’t they be trapped and vaccinated instead of trapped and shot?
An excellent, at times saddening, at times maddening and occasionally amusing, book. I got through many cups of coffee reading it in long sittings, which is not something that I can say of many books. The only downside was that the book was published in 2014 before the results of the initial cull and subsequent expansion for subsequent culls could be included and analysed.
The Running Hare – The Secret Life of Farmland by John Lewis-Stempel
Anyone who enjoyed John Lewis-Stempel’s previous book, Meadowland, about the life of an English meadow, will hopefully find this book equally as enjoyable. Anxious at the state of modern intensive farming and its detrimental impact upon our once abundant farmland flora and fauna, the author rents a field with the determination to sow and harvest wheat for the benefit of wildlife by re-introducing field margins sown with traditional wildflowers and turning his back on the modern preference for autumn instead of spring sowing and the reliance upon the chemicals that create the wildlife deserts which border his own land. He takes great delight in comparing the abundance of wildlife attracted to his own land with the total lack of it in the adjacent fields.
This is a close study of the plants and animals that live in and under a traditionally managed corn field, from the worms and microbes beneath, the mammals and ground nesting birds amongst the flowers and wheat, to the birdlife, including kestrels and sparrowhawks above. It is also the story of the landscape and the people who toiled in it and the way in which it shaped their lives and beliefs.
He begins with ploughing and harrowing behind his Little Grey Fergie tractor, then sowing the wheat via an old seed fiddle. And as the green shoots emerge, grow and ripen into a crop, he records the field’s progress and the way in which the wildlife is attracted to the oasis he has created to play out their own dramatic stories of life and death. Spurning the temptation to harvest with a combine, he rents a modern version of a reaper-binder, which creates the sheaves that are then stacked in the field to dry, allowing him to not just harvest the corn but also the straw to use on his own farm. Whereas modern harvesting is close to 100% efficient, this is a method that leaves behind enough fallen corn to support the wildlife through the winter.
Throughout, he calls upon Victorian countryside commentators such as Richard Jefferies, John Clare and Thomas Hardy to remind us of the countryside as it once was. He also provides stark statistics of the decline in wildflowers (lamb succory, thorowax and downy hemp-nettle are now extinct in an arable environment) and birds (corn bunting, turtle dove and grey partridge have each declined by over 90%) that have accompanied the changes in farming over the past 50 years.
Although this is not a sentimental call for the wholesale change in farming, it is however the sounding of an alarm over the way in which we have disassociated ourselves from the natural environment, highlighted by the irony of the role we are playing in the decline of the pollinators that we actually depend upon for food production.
A very enjoyable read and another that I would recommend to all lovers of the countryside and its wildlife.
This is a close study of the plants and animals that live in and under a traditionally managed corn field, from the worms and microbes beneath, the mammals and ground nesting birds amongst the flowers and wheat, to the birdlife, including kestrels and sparrowhawks above. It is also the story of the landscape and the people who toiled in it and the way in which it shaped their lives and beliefs.
He begins with ploughing and harrowing behind his Little Grey Fergie tractor, then sowing the wheat via an old seed fiddle. And as the green shoots emerge, grow and ripen into a crop, he records the field’s progress and the way in which the wildlife is attracted to the oasis he has created to play out their own dramatic stories of life and death. Spurning the temptation to harvest with a combine, he rents a modern version of a reaper-binder, which creates the sheaves that are then stacked in the field to dry, allowing him to not just harvest the corn but also the straw to use on his own farm. Whereas modern harvesting is close to 100% efficient, this is a method that leaves behind enough fallen corn to support the wildlife through the winter.
Throughout, he calls upon Victorian countryside commentators such as Richard Jefferies, John Clare and Thomas Hardy to remind us of the countryside as it once was. He also provides stark statistics of the decline in wildflowers (lamb succory, thorowax and downy hemp-nettle are now extinct in an arable environment) and birds (corn bunting, turtle dove and grey partridge have each declined by over 90%) that have accompanied the changes in farming over the past 50 years.
Although this is not a sentimental call for the wholesale change in farming, it is however the sounding of an alarm over the way in which we have disassociated ourselves from the natural environment, highlighted by the irony of the role we are playing in the decline of the pollinators that we actually depend upon for food production.
A very enjoyable read and another that I would recommend to all lovers of the countryside and its wildlife.
What Nature Does For Britain by Tony Juniper
I could easily review this book in a single sentence: If you only ever read one book on the environment make sure it’s this one. And then make sure all your friends read it. (OK, 2 sentences!)
From meadows to woodlands, from rivers to seas, from urban peat bogs to saltmarshes, and from the bees and soils that produce much of our food to the urban green spaces crucial to our physical and mental wellbeing, Britain is rich in 'natural capital'. Yet we take all this for granted, rarely considering the free work nature does for us. For decades we have mismanaged (through intensive farming, drainage of bogs, clearing forests, inappropriate development and turning rivers into canals, to name just a few) and damaged the systems that sustain us, all under the illusion that looking after the natural environment is costly and an unnecessary drain on valuable resources that are better allocated to cure rather than prevent. However, as the author’s analysis shows, the ways in which we meet our needs, to the detriment of the environment, often don't make any economic sense, in fact they often don’t make any sense at all. This is primarily because our myopic politicians neither understand the role of the environment, nor the need for joined-up thinking when looking for solutions, many of which are starring us in the face, if only we opened our eyes to see them.
It would be so easy for this book to be an academic tome, full of scientific references and cold statistics, but it is anything but. This is a well written book that makes its points in a very clear and concise way, calling upon a variety of personal experiences and research findings to show both how we have got to where we are and laying out a plan of how we can start to reverse the trend. He also cites a number of successful projects that prove that this reversal is not a fantasy search for non-existent unicorns (sorry if anyone believe unicorns are real), but an achievable aspiration in need of just the will to make it happen. Even if you already have a great interest in the environment it is likely that you will find much here that is new, and it is never a bad thing to have the things you already know reaffirmed, maybe from a new perspective.
A common theme running throughout the book is that, despite the political rhetoric that we have failed to question, there is actually no conflict between having a healthy economy, a healthy society and protecting and rebuilding our environmental infrastructure. After all, all our wealth and quality of life ultimately relies on this ‘natural capital’, and the economic risks and costs in the very near future will be ruinously unless action is taken now to address the issue that face us.
I will let some of the following findings from the book speak for themselves:
From meadows to woodlands, from rivers to seas, from urban peat bogs to saltmarshes, and from the bees and soils that produce much of our food to the urban green spaces crucial to our physical and mental wellbeing, Britain is rich in 'natural capital'. Yet we take all this for granted, rarely considering the free work nature does for us. For decades we have mismanaged (through intensive farming, drainage of bogs, clearing forests, inappropriate development and turning rivers into canals, to name just a few) and damaged the systems that sustain us, all under the illusion that looking after the natural environment is costly and an unnecessary drain on valuable resources that are better allocated to cure rather than prevent. However, as the author’s analysis shows, the ways in which we meet our needs, to the detriment of the environment, often don't make any economic sense, in fact they often don’t make any sense at all. This is primarily because our myopic politicians neither understand the role of the environment, nor the need for joined-up thinking when looking for solutions, many of which are starring us in the face, if only we opened our eyes to see them.
It would be so easy for this book to be an academic tome, full of scientific references and cold statistics, but it is anything but. This is a well written book that makes its points in a very clear and concise way, calling upon a variety of personal experiences and research findings to show both how we have got to where we are and laying out a plan of how we can start to reverse the trend. He also cites a number of successful projects that prove that this reversal is not a fantasy search for non-existent unicorns (sorry if anyone believe unicorns are real), but an achievable aspiration in need of just the will to make it happen. Even if you already have a great interest in the environment it is likely that you will find much here that is new, and it is never a bad thing to have the things you already know reaffirmed, maybe from a new perspective.
A common theme running throughout the book is that, despite the political rhetoric that we have failed to question, there is actually no conflict between having a healthy economy, a healthy society and protecting and rebuilding our environmental infrastructure. After all, all our wealth and quality of life ultimately relies on this ‘natural capital’, and the economic risks and costs in the very near future will be ruinously unless action is taken now to address the issue that face us.
I will let some of the following findings from the book speak for themselves:
- The estimated annual cost arising from soil degradation is between £900m and £1.4bn.
- 12m tonnes of organic material that could enrich our soil goes into landfill every year.
- 31,000 tonnes of pesticides is used every year in British farming to the detriment of our vital pollinators and polluting the environment.
- Pollinators provide an estimated £430m worth of value to crop production.
- The British seafood market is worth £2.73bn.
- Only 25% of our water catchment areas have a ‘good’ ecological status.
- 42% of floodplains in England and Wales are physically separated from their rivers.
- Less than 10% of children regularly play in natural areas.
- The estimated annual cost of mental illness in England is £105bn.
- 60% of British wildlife is in decline.
- The national forest is expected to return 4.8 times its investment by 2100.
- 97% of wildflower meadows have been lost in the last 50 years.
- Britain has the lowest tree coverage of any EU state.
- 16.8bn cubic metres of water is taken from the UK environment each year.
- At just 1 water treatment plant near York 10,000 tonnes from soil erosion is removed from the water every year.
- Planting trees and hedgerows can reduce rainfall run-off by as much as 78%.
- Met Office data shows that, in the UK, 4 of the 5 wettest years on record have occurred since 2000, with the winter of 2013/14 being the wettest ever.
- In the 5 years up to 3013, against the advice of the Environment Agency, the government approved the build of 4,000 homes on floodplains.
- Approx 66% of Britain’s wood demand is met through imports.
The Scything Handbook by Ian Miller
Following on from last year’s suggestion of ‘Norwegian Wood – Chopping, Stacking and Drying Wood the Scandinavian Way’ by Lars Mytting, as the perfect quirky Christmas book for that outdoorsy person, this year’s suggestion is ‘The Scything Handbook’ by Ian Millar, which is exactly what the title suggests.
The scythe is possibly one of the most graceful hand tools ever invented – as lovers of Ross Poldark in the new series can probably attest. It has been used for centuries for harvesting many types of grain, mowing a wildflower meadow and cutting grass. In timed tests it has even beaten powered strimmers (with a lot less noise, pollution and wildlife disruption) and has the added advantage of providing a total body and mind workout at the same time (thereby saving on expensive gym fees). There is no doubt that, in skilled hands, the scythe is rhythmically graceful (cue further images of Ross Poldark stripped to the waist).
This book aims to teach the reader how to scythe from scratch, from correct assembly, to perfecting the cutting stroke, to keeping the blade sharp. There are also sections on forging blades, cutting and drying hay, and growing, harvesting, threshing and storing grain. Packed with informative diagrams and photos this book will open the door to a world where you could easily lose yourself in dreams of endless summers in golden meadows.
If by the end of this book you (or the person receiving it) are not searching the internet for the nearest scything course to book yourself on I’ll be very surprised.
The scythe is possibly one of the most graceful hand tools ever invented – as lovers of Ross Poldark in the new series can probably attest. It has been used for centuries for harvesting many types of grain, mowing a wildflower meadow and cutting grass. In timed tests it has even beaten powered strimmers (with a lot less noise, pollution and wildlife disruption) and has the added advantage of providing a total body and mind workout at the same time (thereby saving on expensive gym fees). There is no doubt that, in skilled hands, the scythe is rhythmically graceful (cue further images of Ross Poldark stripped to the waist).
This book aims to teach the reader how to scythe from scratch, from correct assembly, to perfecting the cutting stroke, to keeping the blade sharp. There are also sections on forging blades, cutting and drying hay, and growing, harvesting, threshing and storing grain. Packed with informative diagrams and photos this book will open the door to a world where you could easily lose yourself in dreams of endless summers in golden meadows.
If by the end of this book you (or the person receiving it) are not searching the internet for the nearest scything course to book yourself on I’ll be very surprised.
The Shepherd’s Life – A Tale of the Lake District by James Rebanks
In an era where the past is shunned and where people clamour for the latest technology and their 15 minutes of fame, this is a captivating book about continuity, tradition, roots and a sense of belonging to a landscape that has been forged and worked by innumerable generations. Indeed, many elements of the author’s life as a shepherd would be familiar to his ancestors hundreds of years ago, though these days his sheepdogs ride on a quad bike.
The book follows him through a typical year, with reflections upon his upbringing and life in farming interspersed throughout. It is a story of farming which only exists now in the remoter, wilder regions of the UK, where the land is too hard and the environment too harsh for farming to be an "agribusiness". Late spring and early summer is about preparing and moving the flock up onto the fells to allow the lower meadows to be cut for the hay that will be needed to see them through the winter – and where a misjudgement can wipe out a year’s profits. Midsummer is about keeping the lambs healthy and bringing the flock down from the fells for shearing. Autumn is the time of sales and shows, a time when profits and reputations are made or lost. Late autumn is about starting the breeding cycle for the following spring. Winter is all about trying to keep the flock alive and healthy through the harshest of conditions, when losses are almost inevitable. And as spring approaches again it is time to prepare for lambing, probably the most arduous and intense time of the year, with hundreds of lambs being born.
It is a story told with insight, honesty, passion and humour, without an ounce of self-pity for the hard times associated with being a sheep farmer in the harsh uplands of the Lake District. The author offers a fascinating account of his life in farming that is part memoir, part practical hands on and part social commentary.
It is also the tale of a remarkable breed of sheep – Herdwicks, probably the toughest mountain sheep in Britain (picture of a magnificent Herdwick ram – part of the Downlands Partnership’s conservation grazing flock - taken at Park Ham on the North Downs).
If I had one criticism it would be the author’s obvious lack of tolerance for people who have not been brought up in the traditions of the Lakes and his seeming dislike of tourists in general, although admitting that without them and the money they bring into the local economy the way of life he so passionately cares for would be almost impossible to sustain. However, having said that, I would never berate someone for caring passionately about their way of life, its past and its future. In a world of increasing apathy, self-interest and media manipulation, we desperately need people who stand for what they truly believe in.
This is a book I would highly recommend for anyone interested in a social history of farming in this country.
The book follows him through a typical year, with reflections upon his upbringing and life in farming interspersed throughout. It is a story of farming which only exists now in the remoter, wilder regions of the UK, where the land is too hard and the environment too harsh for farming to be an "agribusiness". Late spring and early summer is about preparing and moving the flock up onto the fells to allow the lower meadows to be cut for the hay that will be needed to see them through the winter – and where a misjudgement can wipe out a year’s profits. Midsummer is about keeping the lambs healthy and bringing the flock down from the fells for shearing. Autumn is the time of sales and shows, a time when profits and reputations are made or lost. Late autumn is about starting the breeding cycle for the following spring. Winter is all about trying to keep the flock alive and healthy through the harshest of conditions, when losses are almost inevitable. And as spring approaches again it is time to prepare for lambing, probably the most arduous and intense time of the year, with hundreds of lambs being born.
It is a story told with insight, honesty, passion and humour, without an ounce of self-pity for the hard times associated with being a sheep farmer in the harsh uplands of the Lake District. The author offers a fascinating account of his life in farming that is part memoir, part practical hands on and part social commentary.
It is also the tale of a remarkable breed of sheep – Herdwicks, probably the toughest mountain sheep in Britain (picture of a magnificent Herdwick ram – part of the Downlands Partnership’s conservation grazing flock - taken at Park Ham on the North Downs).
If I had one criticism it would be the author’s obvious lack of tolerance for people who have not been brought up in the traditions of the Lakes and his seeming dislike of tourists in general, although admitting that without them and the money they bring into the local economy the way of life he so passionately cares for would be almost impossible to sustain. However, having said that, I would never berate someone for caring passionately about their way of life, its past and its future. In a world of increasing apathy, self-interest and media manipulation, we desperately need people who stand for what they truly believe in.
This is a book I would highly recommend for anyone interested in a social history of farming in this country.
H is for Hawk by Helen MacDonald.
I have to say right from the outset that I found this Costa Book of the Year winner, actually quite a struggle to complete – I even put it down for a few weeks at the end of Part 1, as I felt that to plough on would have meant that I probably wouldn’t have finished it at all. However, it did pick up in the second part, although it was only towards the end that I started enjoying the book.
I love watching birds of prey and thought that a book about the training of a Goshawk – one of our more elusive raptors – would be very interesting, which in parts it was. So, what made me struggle with it?
Firstly, it was the style of writing that didn’t really appeal to me. There were times when I found the language quite baffling – “At this point, space-time is folded and scrunched into direct relations” being one such sentence that had me reading it a number of times. And this is by no means the only one. References to the bird leaving the glove like a shot from a 303 rifle, can only have been written by someone who has never fired a rifle. Then with phrases such as, “my soul feeling like water at four degrees; heavier than ice, falling to the bottom of the ocean” I just felt that the author had blurred the lines between storytelling and trying to be too clever. And then there were the endless over-dramatic one, two and three word sentences, which just leave you feeling breathless over and over again. After a while it just gets really irritating.
Secondly, it is a book that tries to weave together – unsuccessfully in my opinion – three different stories. The first story is the training of the bird and a look at falconry. Much of this is quite interesting (more so towards the end), although there was a point where I started feeling really sorry for the bird that was basically being treated as a focus point for solving the author’s problems. At times it was unhealthily claustrophobic and I wanted her to give up the poor hawk and seek counselling instead. The second story deals with the loss of her father, which drives her to seek solace in training the hawk. I found this part, interspaced throughout the book, to be too self-absorbed and drawn out. Whilst I can sympathise with her loss, I wanted to read about hawks, not about the impact of loss on the individual. The third story is about the life of TH White, who had written a book on training a goshawk in the 1930 that initially inspired the author. Whilst it was interesting in parts, it went into far too much detail, and did I really want endless analysis of his inability to come to terms with his sexual orientation or his political views? These 3 themes constantly interweave throughout the book and become disjointed and very tiresome. Sadly, it just didn’t work for me.
Lots of people rave about this book and maybe I just expected too much from it. Maybe you will pick it up and thoroughly love it. However, I can’t help but feel that there must be a lot better books on the subject out there. I always feel guilty about being mean about someone else’s work, but this a prize winner after all. Maybe it should be subtitled “H is for How?”
I love watching birds of prey and thought that a book about the training of a Goshawk – one of our more elusive raptors – would be very interesting, which in parts it was. So, what made me struggle with it?
Firstly, it was the style of writing that didn’t really appeal to me. There were times when I found the language quite baffling – “At this point, space-time is folded and scrunched into direct relations” being one such sentence that had me reading it a number of times. And this is by no means the only one. References to the bird leaving the glove like a shot from a 303 rifle, can only have been written by someone who has never fired a rifle. Then with phrases such as, “my soul feeling like water at four degrees; heavier than ice, falling to the bottom of the ocean” I just felt that the author had blurred the lines between storytelling and trying to be too clever. And then there were the endless over-dramatic one, two and three word sentences, which just leave you feeling breathless over and over again. After a while it just gets really irritating.
Secondly, it is a book that tries to weave together – unsuccessfully in my opinion – three different stories. The first story is the training of the bird and a look at falconry. Much of this is quite interesting (more so towards the end), although there was a point where I started feeling really sorry for the bird that was basically being treated as a focus point for solving the author’s problems. At times it was unhealthily claustrophobic and I wanted her to give up the poor hawk and seek counselling instead. The second story deals with the loss of her father, which drives her to seek solace in training the hawk. I found this part, interspaced throughout the book, to be too self-absorbed and drawn out. Whilst I can sympathise with her loss, I wanted to read about hawks, not about the impact of loss on the individual. The third story is about the life of TH White, who had written a book on training a goshawk in the 1930 that initially inspired the author. Whilst it was interesting in parts, it went into far too much detail, and did I really want endless analysis of his inability to come to terms with his sexual orientation or his political views? These 3 themes constantly interweave throughout the book and become disjointed and very tiresome. Sadly, it just didn’t work for me.
Lots of people rave about this book and maybe I just expected too much from it. Maybe you will pick it up and thoroughly love it. However, I can’t help but feel that there must be a lot better books on the subject out there. I always feel guilty about being mean about someone else’s work, but this a prize winner after all. Maybe it should be subtitled “H is for How?”
Deep Country – Five Years in the Welsh Hills by Neil Ansell
If you’re ever longed to cut shut yourself away with only the surrounding wildlife and countryside for company and distraction and where trips to the local shop involves a love of walking and forward planning then this is the book for you.
Life of a Chalkstream by Simon Cooper
This excellent book records a year in the life of one of our most important water habitats: the chalkstream, with its crystal clear and mineral-rich water and wide array of wildlife. Written by a keen angler, this book also looks at the management of the stream.
However, you do not need to be a keen angler to appreciate the author’s love for this quintessential part of the English countryside (chalkstreams are nearly exclusive to England, ranging from Dorset to Yorkshire). And, despite approaching the book from an angler’s viewpoint, it would be wrong to dismiss it as concerned only with the salmon, trout and dry flies that get chalkstream anglers so excited. Along the way we also meet the many other inhabitants of the stream and surrounding countryside, including the dragonflies and myriad insects that live as nymphs in the water for most of their lives, the water snails and crayfish, the water voles and otters that inhabit the banks, the owls and bats that hunt over it, as well as the supporting cast of other fishy characters, such as pike, eels, bullheads and feisty sticklebacks. The inquisitive cattle in the surrounding fields also feature, as does the wide variety of vegetation crucial to a healthy stream. It also explores how water quality and biodiversity should be high on the agenda of anyone who loves our waterways. There is also a dip (sorry!) into the history of the stream and the important role it played in the irrigation and drainage of the surrounding farmland.
There are many people who believe that nature should be left to take care of itself, but this book clearly demonstrates the detrimental impact that such an approach would have on the wildlife that relies upon the stream for habitat, food and propagation. Indeed, there are really interesting passages on the initial overgrown and silted state of the stream and the work that went into restoring it and the constant work that goes into managing it. As someone who has worked in conservation in a number of different environments - incl ancient woodland, wildflower meadows, ponds and hedgerows – I found these passages fascinating, as so many of the principles are so familiar. I have not so far had the pleasure of working on the management of a chalkstream but, having read this book, I would love one day to have the opportunity. You might be surprised to learn just how much work is required to keep a stream looking as though it is untouched by man. There is even a section on hay-cutting as part of managing the wildflower meadows that border the stream.
The book is wonderfully written with lots of attention to detail, and full of fascinating information about habitat management and the lives of the wide cast of characters and how they interrelate to form a complex eco-system, where timing is of the utmost importance.
Before reading this book I knew very little about chalkstreams other than they were rare and important environments, without really understanding why. I would now easily put it in my top 10 of countryside management books worth reading. If you love fishing (or you know someone who does) I would highly recommend this book. Even if you don’t like fishing but love the English countryside, I would still highly recommend this book.
However, you do not need to be a keen angler to appreciate the author’s love for this quintessential part of the English countryside (chalkstreams are nearly exclusive to England, ranging from Dorset to Yorkshire). And, despite approaching the book from an angler’s viewpoint, it would be wrong to dismiss it as concerned only with the salmon, trout and dry flies that get chalkstream anglers so excited. Along the way we also meet the many other inhabitants of the stream and surrounding countryside, including the dragonflies and myriad insects that live as nymphs in the water for most of their lives, the water snails and crayfish, the water voles and otters that inhabit the banks, the owls and bats that hunt over it, as well as the supporting cast of other fishy characters, such as pike, eels, bullheads and feisty sticklebacks. The inquisitive cattle in the surrounding fields also feature, as does the wide variety of vegetation crucial to a healthy stream. It also explores how water quality and biodiversity should be high on the agenda of anyone who loves our waterways. There is also a dip (sorry!) into the history of the stream and the important role it played in the irrigation and drainage of the surrounding farmland.
There are many people who believe that nature should be left to take care of itself, but this book clearly demonstrates the detrimental impact that such an approach would have on the wildlife that relies upon the stream for habitat, food and propagation. Indeed, there are really interesting passages on the initial overgrown and silted state of the stream and the work that went into restoring it and the constant work that goes into managing it. As someone who has worked in conservation in a number of different environments - incl ancient woodland, wildflower meadows, ponds and hedgerows – I found these passages fascinating, as so many of the principles are so familiar. I have not so far had the pleasure of working on the management of a chalkstream but, having read this book, I would love one day to have the opportunity. You might be surprised to learn just how much work is required to keep a stream looking as though it is untouched by man. There is even a section on hay-cutting as part of managing the wildflower meadows that border the stream.
The book is wonderfully written with lots of attention to detail, and full of fascinating information about habitat management and the lives of the wide cast of characters and how they interrelate to form a complex eco-system, where timing is of the utmost importance.
Before reading this book I knew very little about chalkstreams other than they were rare and important environments, without really understanding why. I would now easily put it in my top 10 of countryside management books worth reading. If you love fishing (or you know someone who does) I would highly recommend this book. Even if you don’t like fishing but love the English countryside, I would still highly recommend this book.
All Creatures Great and Small by James Herriot
I’m a bit surprised that it has taken me this long to get around to reading these popular memoirs of a country vet in the 1930s - I think I had been put off by the TV series, which at the time I found quite a drab affair - but I guess it’s a case of better late than never.
“All Creatures Great and Small” is the first omnibus edition, comprising the first 2 books "If Only They Could Talk" and "It Shouldn't Happen to a Vet", although sadly they are not the complete versions and there are some chapters that have been excluded. The book is set in the beautiful but remote Yorkshire dales and James’ first 2 years following his graduation from Glasgow Veterinary College. From his colleagues, the unpredictable Siegfried and his happy-go-lucky brother Tristan, to hard-nosed and distrusting farmers, some of whom put more faith in mythical cures and old wives tales than in modern science, to herds of semi-feral cattle, he finds himself in a world far removed from the one he expected to encounter. And that is without the challenges of having to rely upon getting around the steep hills in all weathers in vehicles not far short of deathtraps, often having to abandon them in snowdrifts before working with an audience of highly sceptical and critical farmers and farm workers.
The stories are a wonderfully told series of highs and lows, and the humour and tragedy that goes hand-in-hand with working with ailing and uncooperative livestock, grumpy farmers, hypochondriac pet-owners, stroppy cows and blunt Yorkshire characters. Some of the stories are genuinely laugh-out-loud funny, such as being forced to wear a rubber suit so tight and restrictive that he finds it almost impossible to move, or his first disastrous attempts at dating his future wife. And all these adventures and misadventures are played out upon the fantastic background of a truly green and pleasant land.
I would recommend this to anyone with a love of animals or those who hanker after a simpler way of life that has all but disappeared or who just enjoy an entertaining, well told and gentle story. All-in-all a thoroughly enjoyable read and I am glad that I eventually picked it up and gave it a chance. I already have the follow-up “All Things Bright and Beautiful” ready and waiting.
“All Creatures Great and Small” is the first omnibus edition, comprising the first 2 books "If Only They Could Talk" and "It Shouldn't Happen to a Vet", although sadly they are not the complete versions and there are some chapters that have been excluded. The book is set in the beautiful but remote Yorkshire dales and James’ first 2 years following his graduation from Glasgow Veterinary College. From his colleagues, the unpredictable Siegfried and his happy-go-lucky brother Tristan, to hard-nosed and distrusting farmers, some of whom put more faith in mythical cures and old wives tales than in modern science, to herds of semi-feral cattle, he finds himself in a world far removed from the one he expected to encounter. And that is without the challenges of having to rely upon getting around the steep hills in all weathers in vehicles not far short of deathtraps, often having to abandon them in snowdrifts before working with an audience of highly sceptical and critical farmers and farm workers.
The stories are a wonderfully told series of highs and lows, and the humour and tragedy that goes hand-in-hand with working with ailing and uncooperative livestock, grumpy farmers, hypochondriac pet-owners, stroppy cows and blunt Yorkshire characters. Some of the stories are genuinely laugh-out-loud funny, such as being forced to wear a rubber suit so tight and restrictive that he finds it almost impossible to move, or his first disastrous attempts at dating his future wife. And all these adventures and misadventures are played out upon the fantastic background of a truly green and pleasant land.
I would recommend this to anyone with a love of animals or those who hanker after a simpler way of life that has all but disappeared or who just enjoy an entertaining, well told and gentle story. All-in-all a thoroughly enjoyable read and I am glad that I eventually picked it up and gave it a chance. I already have the follow-up “All Things Bright and Beautiful” ready and waiting.
The Yorkshire Shepherdess by Amanda Owen
This is the story of how one woman fulfills her dream of becoming a shepherdess (living alongside her husband and their 7 children, 4 dogs, horses, pigs, cows, numerous chickens and an uncontrollable goat) at Ravenseat, a 2,000 acre sheep hill farm in Swaledale, North Yorkshire. Fans of the ITV series “The Dales” may already be familiar with the trials and tribulations of running this remote sheep farm - where the weather can be as challenging as the terrain - alongside a large family and a small tea business (catering for the walkers on the cross-country C2C walk).
In this book she lovingly describes the remote beauty of the landscape, while evoking the trials of winter, when they can be cut off by snow without electricity or running water, the arrival of spring and emotional highs and lows of the lambing season, and the backbreaking tasks of summer, with haymaking and sheepshearing on the agenda.
It is full of uplifting stories of leading a hard-working and in many ways simple rural life (although you soon realise that nothing is ever that simple) based upon ‘old’ values as part of a community where people pull together to help each other in times of need, none more so than the devastation of the last foot and mouth epidemic that saw years of selective breeding wiped out thanks to officials that were way out of their depth. The book is full of wonderful characters that could have walked straight out of the world of James Herriot and wildlife reluctant to be relegated to bit-parts.
Although at times a bit repetitive, the book was rarely boring and I would recommend it to those who are interested in the varied life of a hill farmer and the challenges they face on a day-to-day basis. However, if I have one criticism it is that too much time is spent detailing the trials and tribulations of pregnancy and giving birth when living in a remote location in the English countryside. After arrival of the first couple of children I had already got the general message that it wasn’t as straightforward as for people living in more populated towns and cities. By the fifth child there was very little new to add, and by the seventh I was skimming through the now over-familiar details. Thankfully, by the end of the book there was no sign of number eight. However, this might just be a man’s perspective so don’t let it put you off giving this book a chance.
Reading it however I couldn’t help but compare it to Emma Gray’s book “One Girl and Her Dogs” that I recently reviewed, which I would rate as a slightly better and more interesting book, probably because I felt that she faced greater challenges in achieving her goal and because I felt that “The Yorkshire Shepherdess” gets a bit too distracted in detailing the lives of the children. Having said that, what a fantastic childhood they have. I also thought that Emma was more open to seeing that her chosen life wasn’t always as perfect as she would like it to be and that the struggle to be a shepherdess wasn’t always an enviable one, especially when faced alone. Whereas, in “The Yorkshire Shepherdess” I got the feeling that no matter what happened everything would just somehow be alright in the end.
In this book she lovingly describes the remote beauty of the landscape, while evoking the trials of winter, when they can be cut off by snow without electricity or running water, the arrival of spring and emotional highs and lows of the lambing season, and the backbreaking tasks of summer, with haymaking and sheepshearing on the agenda.
It is full of uplifting stories of leading a hard-working and in many ways simple rural life (although you soon realise that nothing is ever that simple) based upon ‘old’ values as part of a community where people pull together to help each other in times of need, none more so than the devastation of the last foot and mouth epidemic that saw years of selective breeding wiped out thanks to officials that were way out of their depth. The book is full of wonderful characters that could have walked straight out of the world of James Herriot and wildlife reluctant to be relegated to bit-parts.
Although at times a bit repetitive, the book was rarely boring and I would recommend it to those who are interested in the varied life of a hill farmer and the challenges they face on a day-to-day basis. However, if I have one criticism it is that too much time is spent detailing the trials and tribulations of pregnancy and giving birth when living in a remote location in the English countryside. After arrival of the first couple of children I had already got the general message that it wasn’t as straightforward as for people living in more populated towns and cities. By the fifth child there was very little new to add, and by the seventh I was skimming through the now over-familiar details. Thankfully, by the end of the book there was no sign of number eight. However, this might just be a man’s perspective so don’t let it put you off giving this book a chance.
Reading it however I couldn’t help but compare it to Emma Gray’s book “One Girl and Her Dogs” that I recently reviewed, which I would rate as a slightly better and more interesting book, probably because I felt that she faced greater challenges in achieving her goal and because I felt that “The Yorkshire Shepherdess” gets a bit too distracted in detailing the lives of the children. Having said that, what a fantastic childhood they have. I also thought that Emma was more open to seeing that her chosen life wasn’t always as perfect as she would like it to be and that the struggle to be a shepherdess wasn’t always an enviable one, especially when faced alone. Whereas, in “The Yorkshire Shepherdess” I got the feeling that no matter what happened everything would just somehow be alright in the end.
Return to Akenfield by Craig Taylor
Written in 2004, “Return to Akenfield” is a follow-up to Ronald Blythe’s 1969 classic portrait of rural life in a Suffolk village, “Akenfield” – which I recently reviewed (and would highly recommend to anyone interested in the social history of our countryside).
Craig Taylor returns to the Suffolk villages on which "Akenfield" was based and seeks out some of the locals who had appeared in the original book to see how their lives had changed. He also meets newcomers to the village and even interviews Ronald Blythe himself, then in his 80s. Young farmers, retired orchardmen and Eastern European migrant workers talk about the nature of farming in an age of increasing mechanisation and computerisation and encroaching supermarkets, while commuters, weekenders and retirees discuss the realities behind the much sought after rural idyll. Together, they offer a revealing portrait of rural English society at a time of great change. The comparison to Blythe’s original book is quite stark, as the abject poverty and harsh conditions he described have all but disappeared, but so have the jobs and with them much of the soul of the village. Today, one man often spends days alone in his computerised, air-conditioned tractor doing jobs that were previously done by gangs of men. “Return” depicts a much changed rural society and I would recommend that it is worth reading the original book first to get a true understanding of the massive gulf between the two worlds.
By comparison, however, I found Return to Akenfield to be less interesting than the original, mainly because a lot of the characters, primarily the newcomers and itinerant workers, have a far shallower connection with the life of the village and have no real idea of how life in the village had changed. Indeed, many of the newcomers are, as Ronald Blythe said at the end of Akenfield, "Living urban lives in the countryside." In other words, they want the countryside to adapt to their way of life rather than the other way around. However, this book is still a worthwhile addition to the original as it clearly highlights the problem of society’s continuing disconnect with countryside.
It describes the continuing eradication of traditional and now historical village life – a life that many were desperate to escape from - something that begs the question: while people are fighting to preserve the countryside, do they really understand what it is they are trying to preserve?
Craig Taylor returns to the Suffolk villages on which "Akenfield" was based and seeks out some of the locals who had appeared in the original book to see how their lives had changed. He also meets newcomers to the village and even interviews Ronald Blythe himself, then in his 80s. Young farmers, retired orchardmen and Eastern European migrant workers talk about the nature of farming in an age of increasing mechanisation and computerisation and encroaching supermarkets, while commuters, weekenders and retirees discuss the realities behind the much sought after rural idyll. Together, they offer a revealing portrait of rural English society at a time of great change. The comparison to Blythe’s original book is quite stark, as the abject poverty and harsh conditions he described have all but disappeared, but so have the jobs and with them much of the soul of the village. Today, one man often spends days alone in his computerised, air-conditioned tractor doing jobs that were previously done by gangs of men. “Return” depicts a much changed rural society and I would recommend that it is worth reading the original book first to get a true understanding of the massive gulf between the two worlds.
By comparison, however, I found Return to Akenfield to be less interesting than the original, mainly because a lot of the characters, primarily the newcomers and itinerant workers, have a far shallower connection with the life of the village and have no real idea of how life in the village had changed. Indeed, many of the newcomers are, as Ronald Blythe said at the end of Akenfield, "Living urban lives in the countryside." In other words, they want the countryside to adapt to their way of life rather than the other way around. However, this book is still a worthwhile addition to the original as it clearly highlights the problem of society’s continuing disconnect with countryside.
It describes the continuing eradication of traditional and now historical village life – a life that many were desperate to escape from - something that begs the question: while people are fighting to preserve the countryside, do they really understand what it is they are trying to preserve?
One Girl and Her Dogs by Emma Gray
This is the wonderful story of how Emma, a 23-year-old shepherd finds a fresh start in life by taking on the daunting tenancy of Fallowlees, an isolated and ramshackle National Trust farm in Northumberland.
This book covers her first year on the farm as she battles with the difficulties of trying to generate an income, while breakdowns and vets bills continually eat into what little reserves she has. On the plus side the beautiful scenery, her relationship with her dogs and her love of farming keep her going when all around her appears bleak. The quote from the book that best sums up her rollercoaster life as a tenant farmer is: at times the farm appears “a living, breathing thing, something that needs endless care and attention – like a child. And, like a child, sometimes it is grateful for the attention I lavish on it and at other times it is mean and selfish and makes me wonder why I bother.”
Her days and, during the lambing season, her nights are long and are inevitably full of highs and lows, especially when after a hard battle she has to watch a life slip away. However, her knowledge of lambing is one of the real highlights of the book and comes as a surprise from someone so young. If you are interested in sheep farming then it is all here as, in a desperate attempt to raise an income, she also works with a gang of shearers who spend the year travelling from New Zealand and Australia to Europe and then Britain, shearing hundreds of sheep every day. It is dirty, backbreaking work but throughout her honesty and humour shine through.
Another of the real triumphs of this book is her knowledge of training and working with her dogs and her forays into the world of sheepdog trialing, fueling her dream of rearing and training working dogs. Again there are highs and lows and comical moments, as well as having to come to terms with the harsh realities of running a business where sentiment does not pay the mounting bills and heartbreaking decisions have to be made. However it is her close bond with her dogs, who she credits as being the real stars of her success, that is the highlight.
One of the criticisms I have read is that the book is repetitive, but I certainly didn’t feel that this was to the book’s detriment. The reality is that farmer life IS repetitive but she covers it with endless enthusiasm and a writing style that didn’t get bogged down. Personally, I found the criticism underserved. But then, I spend a lot of my summer watching working dog and shearing demonstrations, so it is great to get an insight into what is going on.
Overall Emma comes across as a very hard working and courageous young woman with a great and inspiring ability laugh at herself. And she proves that you are never too young to change your life to follow your dream. I really enjoyed this book and hope that she writes a follow-up.
This book covers her first year on the farm as she battles with the difficulties of trying to generate an income, while breakdowns and vets bills continually eat into what little reserves she has. On the plus side the beautiful scenery, her relationship with her dogs and her love of farming keep her going when all around her appears bleak. The quote from the book that best sums up her rollercoaster life as a tenant farmer is: at times the farm appears “a living, breathing thing, something that needs endless care and attention – like a child. And, like a child, sometimes it is grateful for the attention I lavish on it and at other times it is mean and selfish and makes me wonder why I bother.”
Her days and, during the lambing season, her nights are long and are inevitably full of highs and lows, especially when after a hard battle she has to watch a life slip away. However, her knowledge of lambing is one of the real highlights of the book and comes as a surprise from someone so young. If you are interested in sheep farming then it is all here as, in a desperate attempt to raise an income, she also works with a gang of shearers who spend the year travelling from New Zealand and Australia to Europe and then Britain, shearing hundreds of sheep every day. It is dirty, backbreaking work but throughout her honesty and humour shine through.
Another of the real triumphs of this book is her knowledge of training and working with her dogs and her forays into the world of sheepdog trialing, fueling her dream of rearing and training working dogs. Again there are highs and lows and comical moments, as well as having to come to terms with the harsh realities of running a business where sentiment does not pay the mounting bills and heartbreaking decisions have to be made. However it is her close bond with her dogs, who she credits as being the real stars of her success, that is the highlight.
One of the criticisms I have read is that the book is repetitive, but I certainly didn’t feel that this was to the book’s detriment. The reality is that farmer life IS repetitive but she covers it with endless enthusiasm and a writing style that didn’t get bogged down. Personally, I found the criticism underserved. But then, I spend a lot of my summer watching working dog and shearing demonstrations, so it is great to get an insight into what is going on.
Overall Emma comes across as a very hard working and courageous young woman with a great and inspiring ability laugh at herself. And she proves that you are never too young to change your life to follow your dream. I really enjoyed this book and hope that she writes a follow-up.
Stopping by Woods – A Guide to the Forests and Woodland of Ireland by Donal Magner
This is a fantastic study of Irish woodland, its history and heritage, its makeup and management, and its importance.
At a time when the British government’s attempted sell off its publically-owned woodland is still fresh in the mind, this tells of how, starting in 1904, the Irish government took the complete opposite view and took a direct involvement in restoring the country’s exploited and neglected woodland (56% of Irish woodland is now public owned). As a result forest cover has doubled to 10% of the landmass within 2 generations (in the early 1900s it was just 1%), to the benefit of woodland owners, the forestry industry, recreational users and wildlife biodiversity. While we are busy destroying ancient woodland to ‘benefit’ the economy, in Ireland there is a move towards protection and expansion of this valuable environment.
Illustrated with maps and stunning photographs, if you want to know anything about the 340 Irish woodlands and forests open to the public or the history of woodland in Ireland you will find it here. Each county is covered separately, with a section dealing with each wood individually, including maps of walks – although at over 500 pages I wouldn’t suggest carting this book around with you. There are plenty of asides and points of interest, and because the make-up of Irish woodland is very similar to British woodland, there is plenty of information to interest the British reader.
As with most gazetteers, this isn’t a book to be read cover-to-cover but one to be dipped into. Even if you never visit most (or indeed any) of the woodlands described, this is a book that will transport you to magical places. Definitely one for the shelves of lovers of trees and woodland.
In a book packed with masses of information the real lesson that comes across is that, where woodland is concerned, in Ireland, successive governments have learned from the mistakes of the past, while in Britain it is still a lesson beyond the grasp of our current politicians.
At a time when the British government’s attempted sell off its publically-owned woodland is still fresh in the mind, this tells of how, starting in 1904, the Irish government took the complete opposite view and took a direct involvement in restoring the country’s exploited and neglected woodland (56% of Irish woodland is now public owned). As a result forest cover has doubled to 10% of the landmass within 2 generations (in the early 1900s it was just 1%), to the benefit of woodland owners, the forestry industry, recreational users and wildlife biodiversity. While we are busy destroying ancient woodland to ‘benefit’ the economy, in Ireland there is a move towards protection and expansion of this valuable environment.
Illustrated with maps and stunning photographs, if you want to know anything about the 340 Irish woodlands and forests open to the public or the history of woodland in Ireland you will find it here. Each county is covered separately, with a section dealing with each wood individually, including maps of walks – although at over 500 pages I wouldn’t suggest carting this book around with you. There are plenty of asides and points of interest, and because the make-up of Irish woodland is very similar to British woodland, there is plenty of information to interest the British reader.
As with most gazetteers, this isn’t a book to be read cover-to-cover but one to be dipped into. Even if you never visit most (or indeed any) of the woodlands described, this is a book that will transport you to magical places. Definitely one for the shelves of lovers of trees and woodland.
In a book packed with masses of information the real lesson that comes across is that, where woodland is concerned, in Ireland, successive governments have learned from the mistakes of the past, while in Britain it is still a lesson beyond the grasp of our current politicians.
Akenfield by Ronald Blythe
Written in 1969, “Akenfield” by Ronald Blythe soon became a classic portrait of rural life in a Suffolk village in the first half of the 20th century, a time of major change in the countryside. Akenfield itself is a fictitious village, however it is based upon a real village and the book is a series of interviews with its inhabitants.
The contributions cover a wide spectrum of village employment, much of which was rapidly changing or dying out, including: farmers (both arable and livestock) and farm labourers, horsemen, ploughman, blacksmith and farrier, thatcher, saddler, orchard workers, teachers, the clergy, district nurse, members of the WI, magistrate, vet, and even the gravedigger. The interesting thing is that there are no interviews with mothers and housewives, but this is possibly because it was an era where the women still deferred to their husbands.
It also covers a time of great social change for many of the villagers. Mixed farming was being replaced by specialisation and the introduction of farming on an industrial scale. Man and horse had all but given way to ever larger and more adaptable machinery. The supermarkets and giant food companies were also just beginning to dictate farming policy. It was a time when ‘outsiders’ were settling in the village, retired colonels and majors looking for the rural ‘idyll’ they had fought for in the war, while many of the village youngsters were rejecting the ‘old’ village life of hardship and deprivation in search of something better. It is really interesting that many of the new settlers were resented not because they brought change with them but because they wanted to prevent change. The arrival of the car and motorbike also meant that young workers were not tied to the land as their fathers and grandfathers had been – they now had the means to search for better pay and working conditions in the offices and factories of the nearby towns and cities.
It is a book that blows away the Victorian myth of a countryside full of happy-go-lucky people and rosy-cheeked children (much loved of recent TV programmes such as Lark Rise to Candleford and Cranford), all enjoying the benefits of hard work and fresh air. Instead it portrays a countryside between the wars that Thomas Hardy was all too familiar with over 50 years earlier – one of harsh working conditions, poor pay and almost feudal servitude, one of insanitary living conditions (most drinking water still came from the village pond), sickness, poor education and where hunger was an almost permanent companion. It was a countryside where children were still treated as cheap labour and families could still be evicted from their tied-cottages at the landowner’s whim. It was a place where men were physically and mentally broken under the weight of hard work, but were too frightened to join the unions in case it resulted in the displeasure of their employer.
If you have an interest in farming or social history I would recommend this book very highly, as you will learn a lot more (and in a far more interesting way) than any dry academic study. This is a book about real people, real lives and the day-to-day struggles they faced.
I have also just got hold of “Return to Akenfield” by Craig Taylor, who returned to the same village in 2004 to update the story by interviewing some of the people in the original book, as well as those who had arrived since. Having greatly enjoyed “Akenfield” I am really looking forward to this follow up.
The contributions cover a wide spectrum of village employment, much of which was rapidly changing or dying out, including: farmers (both arable and livestock) and farm labourers, horsemen, ploughman, blacksmith and farrier, thatcher, saddler, orchard workers, teachers, the clergy, district nurse, members of the WI, magistrate, vet, and even the gravedigger. The interesting thing is that there are no interviews with mothers and housewives, but this is possibly because it was an era where the women still deferred to their husbands.
It also covers a time of great social change for many of the villagers. Mixed farming was being replaced by specialisation and the introduction of farming on an industrial scale. Man and horse had all but given way to ever larger and more adaptable machinery. The supermarkets and giant food companies were also just beginning to dictate farming policy. It was a time when ‘outsiders’ were settling in the village, retired colonels and majors looking for the rural ‘idyll’ they had fought for in the war, while many of the village youngsters were rejecting the ‘old’ village life of hardship and deprivation in search of something better. It is really interesting that many of the new settlers were resented not because they brought change with them but because they wanted to prevent change. The arrival of the car and motorbike also meant that young workers were not tied to the land as their fathers and grandfathers had been – they now had the means to search for better pay and working conditions in the offices and factories of the nearby towns and cities.
It is a book that blows away the Victorian myth of a countryside full of happy-go-lucky people and rosy-cheeked children (much loved of recent TV programmes such as Lark Rise to Candleford and Cranford), all enjoying the benefits of hard work and fresh air. Instead it portrays a countryside between the wars that Thomas Hardy was all too familiar with over 50 years earlier – one of harsh working conditions, poor pay and almost feudal servitude, one of insanitary living conditions (most drinking water still came from the village pond), sickness, poor education and where hunger was an almost permanent companion. It was a countryside where children were still treated as cheap labour and families could still be evicted from their tied-cottages at the landowner’s whim. It was a place where men were physically and mentally broken under the weight of hard work, but were too frightened to join the unions in case it resulted in the displeasure of their employer.
If you have an interest in farming or social history I would recommend this book very highly, as you will learn a lot more (and in a far more interesting way) than any dry academic study. This is a book about real people, real lives and the day-to-day struggles they faced.
I have also just got hold of “Return to Akenfield” by Craig Taylor, who returned to the same village in 2004 to update the story by interviewing some of the people in the original book, as well as those who had arrived since. Having greatly enjoyed “Akenfield” I am really looking forward to this follow up.
Green Fields and Pavements: A Norfolk Farmer in Wartime by Henry Williamson.
Henry Williamson is probably best known as the author of the much-loved classic “Tarka the Otter”. However, between 1937 and 1945 he farmed 243 acres of difficult land in North Norfolk, bringing a near-derelict farm to an A-grade classification during the war years. At the same time he was writing weekly newspaper articles for the Eastern Daily Press and this book is a collection of those articles.
For anyone with an interest in the history of British farming, especially during the war years, when farming was shocked out of the slump brought about by cheap foreign imports (sound familiar?), these beautifully written pieces make fascinating and entertaining reading. Beginning during 1941 and the darkest days of the war, Henry Williamson presents a varied and occasionally humorous picture of what life was like on the Home Front, when farmers were under extreme pressure to feed a population that could no longer rely upon the pre-war supply of food from overseas. It was a time when the country faced the very real prospect of being starved into submission and farmers suddenly found themselves at the forefront of the battle for survival.
Of course, we now read these articles with the benefit of hindsight – we have the comfort of knowing that the country didn’t starve and that Britain and her allies were ultimately victorious. However, at the time they were written there was no such comfort and no such certainty over the outcome of the conflict. But, there is a question that still resonates today, and that is whether we are continuing to pay a crippling price for our involvement in 2 world wars and whether the slate will ever be wiped clean. Even in the 1940s there was a fear that the country was selling its soul to the financiers and those who would inevitably become rich on the back of the war.
It was also a time of great change in agriculture, as new machinery was introduced, millions of acres went under the plough for the first time (not always without a fight), arable replaced livestock and new chemical fertilisers came to be relied upon in increasing quantities. However, it was a time when horses, working alongside new tractors, still provided a main source of power on many farms and when only large farms could afford the new American combine harvesters, while the small farmer built his stacks and waited for the threshing machine. And make-do-and mend didn’t just apply to home life, it also applied to finding ways to keep machinery going well beyond its normal lifespan and often beyond the point where it should have been put out of its misery.
As well as the insights into wartime farming there are wonderful asides such as the story of Cheepy the chicken that mothered a brood of guinea fowl chicks and Hooly, the family’s adopted tawny owl.
There are also a number of articles looking at the future of farming and the countryside and whether the pursuit of money would ultimately prove to be to the detriment of both, a warning from 70 years ago that we are still struggling with the answer to.
It is quite a while since I enjoyed a collection of articles as much as I enjoyed this one and I would highly recommend it.
For anyone with an interest in the history of British farming, especially during the war years, when farming was shocked out of the slump brought about by cheap foreign imports (sound familiar?), these beautifully written pieces make fascinating and entertaining reading. Beginning during 1941 and the darkest days of the war, Henry Williamson presents a varied and occasionally humorous picture of what life was like on the Home Front, when farmers were under extreme pressure to feed a population that could no longer rely upon the pre-war supply of food from overseas. It was a time when the country faced the very real prospect of being starved into submission and farmers suddenly found themselves at the forefront of the battle for survival.
Of course, we now read these articles with the benefit of hindsight – we have the comfort of knowing that the country didn’t starve and that Britain and her allies were ultimately victorious. However, at the time they were written there was no such comfort and no such certainty over the outcome of the conflict. But, there is a question that still resonates today, and that is whether we are continuing to pay a crippling price for our involvement in 2 world wars and whether the slate will ever be wiped clean. Even in the 1940s there was a fear that the country was selling its soul to the financiers and those who would inevitably become rich on the back of the war.
It was also a time of great change in agriculture, as new machinery was introduced, millions of acres went under the plough for the first time (not always without a fight), arable replaced livestock and new chemical fertilisers came to be relied upon in increasing quantities. However, it was a time when horses, working alongside new tractors, still provided a main source of power on many farms and when only large farms could afford the new American combine harvesters, while the small farmer built his stacks and waited for the threshing machine. And make-do-and mend didn’t just apply to home life, it also applied to finding ways to keep machinery going well beyond its normal lifespan and often beyond the point where it should have been put out of its misery.
As well as the insights into wartime farming there are wonderful asides such as the story of Cheepy the chicken that mothered a brood of guinea fowl chicks and Hooly, the family’s adopted tawny owl.
There are also a number of articles looking at the future of farming and the countryside and whether the pursuit of money would ultimately prove to be to the detriment of both, a warning from 70 years ago that we are still struggling with the answer to.
It is quite a while since I enjoyed a collection of articles as much as I enjoyed this one and I would highly recommend it.
On Nature – Unexpected Ramblings on the British Countryside
This is a collection of essays on a wide variety of countryside topics, written by an equally wide variety of contributors, some well-known within this sphere, some better known from other walks of life and some that were completely new to me.
The content makes for an interesting mix, covering subjects such as: the partnership of man and wild bird in falconry; foraging for wild food and the joy of damsons; trout and pike fishing and the musings of a night time angler; how to watch and learn to recognise common birds; how beer is brewed to match the feel of the seasons; how to see wildlife; walking the Two Moors Way across Dartmoor and Exmoor and cycling around the coast of Britain; how to be a lazy naturalist by employing the minimum effort to encourage the wildlife to come to you; and living on a remote island.
The mix and match approach of the subjects and authors turns out to be both a weakness and a strength. The style of writing is naturally quite varied, with some authors better than others, while the subjects vary in levels of interest (not everyone will be equally interested in everything). Being short in length also means that they are unable to cover a subject in any great depth and therefore can struggle to offer anything new to a subject that you may be particularly interested in already. However, it is a definite plus that few of the writers take themselves too seriously, and the variety of styles and topics keeps the book fresh, where some single-topic countryside books can really struggle to say anything new after about halfway through. Overall, what shines through is each writer’s love of their chosen subject, helping to evoke the reasons why we are often at our happiest when immersed in nature and the natural world.
The book also contains some very brief sections about “how to tell the difference between X and Y” – frogs and toads being one example – that seem out of place and leave you wondering quite how they fit in with the overall context of the book. However, they do not detract too much from the general feel of the book.
This isn’t the sort of book that you sit down and read cover-to-cover but rather the sort you dip into, curled up by the fire on a winter’s evening with a glass of your favourite tipple to hand.
I will finish with one of my favourite quotes from the book and the one which best sums up what I think it is trying to achieve: “We live on an extraordinary island that we need to cherish and respect. We need to get in our cars less and be outside more, and most importantly we need to slow down a bit more in order to look around.”
The content makes for an interesting mix, covering subjects such as: the partnership of man and wild bird in falconry; foraging for wild food and the joy of damsons; trout and pike fishing and the musings of a night time angler; how to watch and learn to recognise common birds; how beer is brewed to match the feel of the seasons; how to see wildlife; walking the Two Moors Way across Dartmoor and Exmoor and cycling around the coast of Britain; how to be a lazy naturalist by employing the minimum effort to encourage the wildlife to come to you; and living on a remote island.
The mix and match approach of the subjects and authors turns out to be both a weakness and a strength. The style of writing is naturally quite varied, with some authors better than others, while the subjects vary in levels of interest (not everyone will be equally interested in everything). Being short in length also means that they are unable to cover a subject in any great depth and therefore can struggle to offer anything new to a subject that you may be particularly interested in already. However, it is a definite plus that few of the writers take themselves too seriously, and the variety of styles and topics keeps the book fresh, where some single-topic countryside books can really struggle to say anything new after about halfway through. Overall, what shines through is each writer’s love of their chosen subject, helping to evoke the reasons why we are often at our happiest when immersed in nature and the natural world.
The book also contains some very brief sections about “how to tell the difference between X and Y” – frogs and toads being one example – that seem out of place and leave you wondering quite how they fit in with the overall context of the book. However, they do not detract too much from the general feel of the book.
This isn’t the sort of book that you sit down and read cover-to-cover but rather the sort you dip into, curled up by the fire on a winter’s evening with a glass of your favourite tipple to hand.
I will finish with one of my favourite quotes from the book and the one which best sums up what I think it is trying to achieve: “We live on an extraordinary island that we need to cherish and respect. We need to get in our cars less and be outside more, and most importantly we need to slow down a bit more in order to look around.”
Woodland Crafts in Britain by Herbert L Edlin
First published in 1949, “Woodland Crafts in Britain” is an absolute classic and I was extremely lucky to come across a 1974 reprint edition while browsing a second hand book stall.
If you have an interest in woodland crafts or how and why our woods were managed I cannot recommend this book highly enough. The author was engaged from 1940 to 1945 in large-scale timber felling for the war effort and subsequently travelled the country with the Forestry Commission, meeting a wide variety of timber workers and craftsmen.
Subtitled “An Account of the Traditional Uses of Trees and Timbers in the British Countryside”, it paints a picture of a countryside, and our woodlands in particular, that was very different from today. Many people fail to understand that the only reason our woodlands still exist is because they were of great economic value, both in terms of employment and what they produced.
Written in the days before the introduction of chainsaws and heavy machinery, the book begins with what a woodlander’s life was like, where every job was done with handtools, from axes and billhooks to great crosscut saws that would sometimes require 4 men to use. It was a time when, where possible, many timber products were fashioned right there in the woodland, it being far easier to haul out the near-finished item than the raw timber. For these men (and let’s not forget the wartime Timber Jills) this was a hard and demanding as well as skilful way of making a living. Felling, snedding, barking, hewing, cleaving, shaving and sawing were all skills common to a good woodland worker (and if you weren’t good you didn’t last long).
The book then explains how valuable our timber once was, fulfilling a staggering variety of needs, with the inherent properties of the different timbers being exploited. Beech was much sought after by the best furniture makers. Ash, one of our toughest timbers, was used for tool handles and lances. Birchwood made our besom brooms and provided both wine and sugar. Chestnut was in demand for fencing. Elm, due to its durability in water was used in shipbuilding. Hazel was used for a wide variety of products, including thatching spars, hurdle making, hedge laying and bean poles. Sycamore was used for spoons because it doesn’t taint the taste of food. Oak was one of the most important trees, used in all types of building work and leather making. And so it goes on through Alder, Maple, Spindle, Willow, Hornbeam, Larch, Yew etc, etc. One of the common uses for many types of timber was the making of charcoal, crucial to the iron and glass industries before the introduction of coke. And on top of all that, they provided dyes, resins, food and fuel.
This book really makes you hanker after the days before plastic and mass production; the days when our countryside was alive with industry and not the museum piece that it is becoming, devoid of people and employment and to some extent purpose. I can almost guarantee that after reading this book you will never view our woodlands in the same way again.
If you have an interest in woodland crafts or how and why our woods were managed I cannot recommend this book highly enough. The author was engaged from 1940 to 1945 in large-scale timber felling for the war effort and subsequently travelled the country with the Forestry Commission, meeting a wide variety of timber workers and craftsmen.
Subtitled “An Account of the Traditional Uses of Trees and Timbers in the British Countryside”, it paints a picture of a countryside, and our woodlands in particular, that was very different from today. Many people fail to understand that the only reason our woodlands still exist is because they were of great economic value, both in terms of employment and what they produced.
Written in the days before the introduction of chainsaws and heavy machinery, the book begins with what a woodlander’s life was like, where every job was done with handtools, from axes and billhooks to great crosscut saws that would sometimes require 4 men to use. It was a time when, where possible, many timber products were fashioned right there in the woodland, it being far easier to haul out the near-finished item than the raw timber. For these men (and let’s not forget the wartime Timber Jills) this was a hard and demanding as well as skilful way of making a living. Felling, snedding, barking, hewing, cleaving, shaving and sawing were all skills common to a good woodland worker (and if you weren’t good you didn’t last long).
The book then explains how valuable our timber once was, fulfilling a staggering variety of needs, with the inherent properties of the different timbers being exploited. Beech was much sought after by the best furniture makers. Ash, one of our toughest timbers, was used for tool handles and lances. Birchwood made our besom brooms and provided both wine and sugar. Chestnut was in demand for fencing. Elm, due to its durability in water was used in shipbuilding. Hazel was used for a wide variety of products, including thatching spars, hurdle making, hedge laying and bean poles. Sycamore was used for spoons because it doesn’t taint the taste of food. Oak was one of the most important trees, used in all types of building work and leather making. And so it goes on through Alder, Maple, Spindle, Willow, Hornbeam, Larch, Yew etc, etc. One of the common uses for many types of timber was the making of charcoal, crucial to the iron and glass industries before the introduction of coke. And on top of all that, they provided dyes, resins, food and fuel.
This book really makes you hanker after the days before plastic and mass production; the days when our countryside was alive with industry and not the museum piece that it is becoming, devoid of people and employment and to some extent purpose. I can almost guarantee that after reading this book you will never view our woodlands in the same way again.
A Year In The Woods by Colin Elford
This is a short book that may appeal to some but not others. The author is a forest ranger working for the Forestry Commission on the Dorset/Wiltshire border. It’s quite a simply written book, comprising of short pieces, but this does not detract from the story of his year alone in the woods with his dogs, surrounded by the trees and wildlife. Throughout the book he uses his deep understanding of his environment and profession to paint a picture of a world and way of life that is becoming ever more remote from our urbanised, computerised lifestyles.
Where this book may not appeal is in the fact that a large part of his job is taken up with controlling the deer population and trapping and disposing of grey squirrels. His job is to enable the trees under his protection to thrive and this inevitably leads to the culling of those animals that will cause damage. In his forthright explanation of his role, he sees himself has helping in the restoration of balance, in a land that mankind has stripped of its large predators.
People who think of conservation as little more than benign neglect, or object to the killing of animals, may find it difficult to understand why, despite his constant regret, he takes such pride in his professionalism. Easier to understand is his approach to dealing with injured or trapped animals, where he has little option but to deal with the situation as quickly and humanely as possible.
Personally, I enjoyed this book as it opens a door on a world that very few of us will ever see, let alone experience firsthand. It is one that I know I will read again.
Where this book may not appeal is in the fact that a large part of his job is taken up with controlling the deer population and trapping and disposing of grey squirrels. His job is to enable the trees under his protection to thrive and this inevitably leads to the culling of those animals that will cause damage. In his forthright explanation of his role, he sees himself has helping in the restoration of balance, in a land that mankind has stripped of its large predators.
People who think of conservation as little more than benign neglect, or object to the killing of animals, may find it difficult to understand why, despite his constant regret, he takes such pride in his professionalism. Easier to understand is his approach to dealing with injured or trapped animals, where he has little option but to deal with the situation as quickly and humanely as possible.
Personally, I enjoyed this book as it opens a door on a world that very few of us will ever see, let alone experience firsthand. It is one that I know I will read again.
Woodsman – Living In A Wood In The 21st Century by Ben Law
If you have ever dreamt of managing your own woodland, of living in harmony with the natural world and of following the endless cycle of the seasons then this is the sort of book that will definitely appeal to your inner woodsman (or woodswoman). I have been a big fan of the author ever since I first encountered him through a couple of his previous books: “The Woodland Year” and “The Woodland Way” (both books that I would highly recommend), so when this one came out it immediately went to the top of my wish list. Most people however will know him through the building of his woodland house - voted as the favourite ever Grand Designs episode.
Based upon his 20 years as a woodsman, the book begins with his move to Prickly Nut Wood, Sussex, and how he took the time to observe and understand his surroundings before deciding upon a management plan. Interesting and informative, it goes on to cover such things as coppicing, timber extraction, the attributes and uses of different timber types, charcoal burning, hedge laying and of course the construction of his now famous house – the materials for which were mostly sourced from his own wood.
Experienced woodland workers will probably find little new in this book but what comes across throughout is his love affair with his surroundings and the richness of the life he has chosen that does not conform to, nor be measurable by, the standards of our modern consumer-driven society. He is also very passionate about sustaining the old methods of woodland management.
The last part of the book is an interesting flight of fancy where he looks into the not too distant future where oil reserves have reached a crisis, the car is no longer viable and we are forced to return to the land and self-reliant communities. Much of it is thought-proving (I have long believed that a country that cannot feed itself is effectively holding a loaded gun to its head) although a bit unrealistic, especially given the enormous population that would still need to be housed and fed. However, it does make you start to think about what will happen when the oil does begin to run out and whether short-sighted political agendas will leave us able to cope.
I really looked forward to reading this book and overall I was not disappointed – and it is illustrated throughout by some lovely drawings that add to the understanding of the text. My only criticism is that it was easy to read in one sitting and was over far too quickly. I look forward with great anticipation to his next book.
Based upon his 20 years as a woodsman, the book begins with his move to Prickly Nut Wood, Sussex, and how he took the time to observe and understand his surroundings before deciding upon a management plan. Interesting and informative, it goes on to cover such things as coppicing, timber extraction, the attributes and uses of different timber types, charcoal burning, hedge laying and of course the construction of his now famous house – the materials for which were mostly sourced from his own wood.
Experienced woodland workers will probably find little new in this book but what comes across throughout is his love affair with his surroundings and the richness of the life he has chosen that does not conform to, nor be measurable by, the standards of our modern consumer-driven society. He is also very passionate about sustaining the old methods of woodland management.
The last part of the book is an interesting flight of fancy where he looks into the not too distant future where oil reserves have reached a crisis, the car is no longer viable and we are forced to return to the land and self-reliant communities. Much of it is thought-proving (I have long believed that a country that cannot feed itself is effectively holding a loaded gun to its head) although a bit unrealistic, especially given the enormous population that would still need to be housed and fed. However, it does make you start to think about what will happen when the oil does begin to run out and whether short-sighted political agendas will leave us able to cope.
I really looked forward to reading this book and overall I was not disappointed – and it is illustrated throughout by some lovely drawings that add to the understanding of the text. My only criticism is that it was easy to read in one sitting and was over far too quickly. I look forward with great anticipation to his next book.
Country Capers by Ken Dykes
I picked up this book wondering whether my suspicions about the title (which I found a bit uninspiring) would be confirmed. However, as it cost less than £2 to download I thought that it was worth taking a chance. And I’m quite pleased to say that I’m glad I did for it is a delightful little book.
It is the story of the author’s childhood growing up during and just after the war in a rural Hampshire village, where hunger was a constant companion and much of his spare time seemed to taken up with how to supplement the meagre ration system, from scrumping for apples to chasing rabbits to tickling trout. In the book he relives days when virtually every daylight hour, summer and winter, rain or shine, was spent out in the woods, over the fields, across the moors or searching the river bank, building dens, climbing trees, following the hunt, beating for the guns and foraging for anything that could be eaten, all the while trying to avoid encounters with angry farmers and gamekeepers along the way. Of course, it was very much a different time back then so some of the activities (such as egg collecting) would today be either frowned upon or just plain illegal. However, do not let that detract from the enthusiasm with which every adventure is retold.
Throughout, the humour is gentle, the countryside is beautifully painted, the characters are colourful and the descriptions are evocative of a harder but simpler life in a countryside that is fast disappearing.
A delightful piece of nostalgia, perfect for sitting in the garden (or by a river bank) on a sunny summer’s day and reminiscing about the carefree days of childhood and an age of innocence.
It is the story of the author’s childhood growing up during and just after the war in a rural Hampshire village, where hunger was a constant companion and much of his spare time seemed to taken up with how to supplement the meagre ration system, from scrumping for apples to chasing rabbits to tickling trout. In the book he relives days when virtually every daylight hour, summer and winter, rain or shine, was spent out in the woods, over the fields, across the moors or searching the river bank, building dens, climbing trees, following the hunt, beating for the guns and foraging for anything that could be eaten, all the while trying to avoid encounters with angry farmers and gamekeepers along the way. Of course, it was very much a different time back then so some of the activities (such as egg collecting) would today be either frowned upon or just plain illegal. However, do not let that detract from the enthusiasm with which every adventure is retold.
Throughout, the humour is gentle, the countryside is beautifully painted, the characters are colourful and the descriptions are evocative of a harder but simpler life in a countryside that is fast disappearing.
A delightful piece of nostalgia, perfect for sitting in the garden (or by a river bank) on a sunny summer’s day and reminiscing about the carefree days of childhood and an age of innocence.
The Dragonfly Diaries - The Unlikely Story of Europe's First Dragonfly Sanctuary by Ruary Mackenzie Dodds.
Following the chance meeting with one of these remarkable creatures, The Dragonfly Diaries, follows one man’s determination to both create the perfect environment for dragonflies and to promote their plight. In doing so he becomes one of the country’s leading dragonfly experts. In this book he shares his fascination for these remarkable primal creatures over the 25 years he has been photographing and working with them. The book is a combination of a description of the lives of dragonflies, a diary detailing the ups and downs of establishing Britain's first public dragonfly sanctuary and the inspiring story of one man who discovers his niche in life, one far removed from his place in a demanding London-based training company.
Although the information contained probably offers little to those who already have a reasonable knowledge about dragonflies, it will definitely appeal to those who know a little but would like to learn more about these creatures that spend the greater proportion of their lives beneath the water before emerging to reproduce. However, to label the book as a basic introduction to dragonflies would be to miss the wonderful and compelling story of habitat creation and management, leading to the setting up of the sanctuary and a subsequent museum, as well as the trials of setting up a charitable trust and the challenges of searching for funding, and organising a team of volunteers (whose enthusiasm sometimes outweighs their ability!) without whom none of it would be possible.
The book is a joy to read. It is packed with information and anecdotes, and throughout the ups and downs what shines through is a determination to make a difference to the natural world, a goal we can all share in if we have the mind to do so. It is also an inspiration for all those who stand on the brink of an opportunity and ponder a career-changing leap into the unknown – something that I can definitely associate with, having done it myself.
And I can definitely associate with the author’s claim that dragonflies have a 6th sense that can detect the exact moment you press the camera’s shutter, choosing that instant to take to the air in another mesmerising display of high-speed flight.
This book was in my ‘to read’ pile for quite a while, but once started I found it hard to put down. And the diary format makes it easy to read just one entry, then just one more, then... and before you know it it's long past time for lights out.
Although the information contained probably offers little to those who already have a reasonable knowledge about dragonflies, it will definitely appeal to those who know a little but would like to learn more about these creatures that spend the greater proportion of their lives beneath the water before emerging to reproduce. However, to label the book as a basic introduction to dragonflies would be to miss the wonderful and compelling story of habitat creation and management, leading to the setting up of the sanctuary and a subsequent museum, as well as the trials of setting up a charitable trust and the challenges of searching for funding, and organising a team of volunteers (whose enthusiasm sometimes outweighs their ability!) without whom none of it would be possible.
The book is a joy to read. It is packed with information and anecdotes, and throughout the ups and downs what shines through is a determination to make a difference to the natural world, a goal we can all share in if we have the mind to do so. It is also an inspiration for all those who stand on the brink of an opportunity and ponder a career-changing leap into the unknown – something that I can definitely associate with, having done it myself.
And I can definitely associate with the author’s claim that dragonflies have a 6th sense that can detect the exact moment you press the camera’s shutter, choosing that instant to take to the air in another mesmerising display of high-speed flight.
This book was in my ‘to read’ pile for quite a while, but once started I found it hard to put down. And the diary format makes it easy to read just one entry, then just one more, then... and before you know it it's long past time for lights out.
Pigs in Clover: Or How I Accidentally Fell In Love With The Good Life by Simon Dawson.
This is the true story of a London estate agent who becomes an accidental smallholder on the wilds of Exmoor, acquiring by various means a collection of pigs, chickens, sheep, goats, geese, ducks, a turkey, horses and dogs. There are many up and down moments, as humour and tragedy are mixed with a liberal sprinkling of confusion and trial and error. There is the joy of bringing new life into the world and the sadness of seeing that life killed or sent off to slaughter, plus the realities of living in a countryside that has become increasingly distanced from our modern society, especially where the production of our food is concerned.
Books often claim to be laugh-out-loud funny, while in reality barely raising a smile, but I did genuinely laugh out loud quite a few times, such as when he learns that wet jeans, electric fencing and one’s nether regions don’t make for a pleasant combination, or how one runs the risk of drowning while climbing a field gate, or why one should never play goalkeeper to low-flying sheep. The book is full of incidents and life-changing moments and I found it very hard to put down, as there was always something happening that grabbed my attention.
If you have ever dreamt of giving up the urban rat race for a life of self-sufficiency in the depths of rural England, or if you were inspired to hanker after an alternative lifestyle by the “Escape to River Cottage” TV series, or if as a schoolboy of a certain era you thought that life couldn’t possibly get better than raising chickens with Felicity Kendal (or in my case all 3), then this book will definitely strike a chord. The only downside is that I finished it far too quickly.
Books often claim to be laugh-out-loud funny, while in reality barely raising a smile, but I did genuinely laugh out loud quite a few times, such as when he learns that wet jeans, electric fencing and one’s nether regions don’t make for a pleasant combination, or how one runs the risk of drowning while climbing a field gate, or why one should never play goalkeeper to low-flying sheep. The book is full of incidents and life-changing moments and I found it very hard to put down, as there was always something happening that grabbed my attention.
If you have ever dreamt of giving up the urban rat race for a life of self-sufficiency in the depths of rural England, or if you were inspired to hanker after an alternative lifestyle by the “Escape to River Cottage” TV series, or if as a schoolboy of a certain era you thought that life couldn’t possibly get better than raising chickens with Felicity Kendal (or in my case all 3), then this book will definitely strike a chord. The only downside is that I finished it far too quickly.
Norwegian Wood – Chopping, Stacking and Drying Wood the Scandinavian Way by Lars Mytting
If you are looking for a captivating and somewhat quirky read for an outdoors person I recommend taking a look at Norwegian Wood, which has been a surprise success since it was recently translated (over 2 million copies sold).
Unlike the UK, Norway has never had a love affair with coal, so most of its fuel for heating and cooking has come from the country’s natural clean and renewable woodland resource. This means that the Norwegians know a thing or two about harvesting, chopping, drying, stacking and burning wood, much of which can be found in this wonderfully illustrated book. Along the way you will also learn a bit about chain saw and axes, the correct way to chop and store wood, the comparative calorific output of woodsmen and footballers, what a man’s wood pile says about his suitability as a husband and quite a bit about wood stoves and their maintenance.
Having just finished and enjoyed it immensely I would have no hesitation in recommending it for your ‘to read’ list, even if you’re an indoors person who just likes the idea of sitting in front of a mesmerising wood fire with a good book.
Unlike the UK, Norway has never had a love affair with coal, so most of its fuel for heating and cooking has come from the country’s natural clean and renewable woodland resource. This means that the Norwegians know a thing or two about harvesting, chopping, drying, stacking and burning wood, much of which can be found in this wonderfully illustrated book. Along the way you will also learn a bit about chain saw and axes, the correct way to chop and store wood, the comparative calorific output of woodsmen and footballers, what a man’s wood pile says about his suitability as a husband and quite a bit about wood stoves and their maintenance.
Having just finished and enjoyed it immensely I would have no hesitation in recommending it for your ‘to read’ list, even if you’re an indoors person who just likes the idea of sitting in front of a mesmerising wood fire with a good book.
Birds in a Cage by Derek Niemann
This is probably one of the more unusual war stories that you will come across. It is the story of how a group of British PoWs found an escape from the hardship, boredom and fear of long-term imprisonment by forming a birdwatching society from behind the barbed wire and machinegun towers. It is a story that can be seen as purely ‘British’ in its dark humour, but it is also an insight into people’s ability to not just survive but to overcome appalling conditions and deprivations. Some of the detail of daily life in the camps is harrowing but this is ultimately an uplifting story.
The four main characters were all captured early in the war and met at Warburg PoW camp where they formed their unusual club. They lacked binoculars, but scrounged paper and spent hours every day observing and making detailed notes that were eventually to be published in respected ornithological journals. Unable to leave their confines they even brought the birds to them by making nestboxes out of scraps of wood, which they installed around the camp to aid their observations, much to the bemusement of their fellow prisoners. Keeping records however brought structure and a sense of control to the lives of men who had little control over their fates and were often subjected to cruelty and the threat of sudden violent death. There is also a sense of comedy in the fact that their captors were convinced that their intense observation of the outside world had more to do with attempts at escape.
Unfortunately, once liberated and back home, they were neither mentally nor physically the men they were and the reunions with family members were sadly not the stuff of fairy tales. However, the four men went on to train naturalists, found observatories and write up their wartime findings. One went on to run the RSPB from 1963 to 1975. In this way they can be seen as playing major roles in the beginnings of British wildlife conservation.
At times the book can be a bit drawn out and repetitive, but this in a way mimics the daily lives of these men and therefore in a strange way actually adds to the story as you get a sense of the mental battles they faced.
If you are interested in history, in birds, in people's struggle against adversity, in the beginnings of the conservation movement or just in a good read, I would recommend this book.
The four main characters were all captured early in the war and met at Warburg PoW camp where they formed their unusual club. They lacked binoculars, but scrounged paper and spent hours every day observing and making detailed notes that were eventually to be published in respected ornithological journals. Unable to leave their confines they even brought the birds to them by making nestboxes out of scraps of wood, which they installed around the camp to aid their observations, much to the bemusement of their fellow prisoners. Keeping records however brought structure and a sense of control to the lives of men who had little control over their fates and were often subjected to cruelty and the threat of sudden violent death. There is also a sense of comedy in the fact that their captors were convinced that their intense observation of the outside world had more to do with attempts at escape.
Unfortunately, once liberated and back home, they were neither mentally nor physically the men they were and the reunions with family members were sadly not the stuff of fairy tales. However, the four men went on to train naturalists, found observatories and write up their wartime findings. One went on to run the RSPB from 1963 to 1975. In this way they can be seen as playing major roles in the beginnings of British wildlife conservation.
At times the book can be a bit drawn out and repetitive, but this in a way mimics the daily lives of these men and therefore in a strange way actually adds to the story as you get a sense of the mental battles they faced.
If you are interested in history, in birds, in people's struggle against adversity, in the beginnings of the conservation movement or just in a good read, I would recommend this book.
The Man Who Made Things Out of Trees by Robert Penn
Anyone who remembers the BBC series Tales From the Wild Wood may remember Robert Penn as the man who bought a neglected wood in the Black Mountains in Wales and set about its restoration.
In this book he selects and cuts down a mature (approx 120 years old) ash tree (sadly not from his own wood, where the trees were unsuitable for use) to see how many things could be made from it. Then, travelling from Wales across Europe and Ireland to the USA, he finds that the old skills and knowledge of the properties of ash are very much alive. He starts with simple axe handles on an industrial estate in Wales, travels to rural Northern England for a wheel, Ireland for a hurling stick, Austria for a toboggan and even the US for a traditional baseball bat, with various other stops along the way. With each object he not only details how it was made but also gives some of the history, science and folklore behind it and how the ecology and inherent properties of the tree lend themselves to producing not just a functional object that will last for years, but also a thing of beauty – something much harder to find in these days of cheap mass production.
If I was being pedantic, the book would more accurately be titled, The Man Who Got Other People to Make Things Out of A Single Tree. But that aside this is a lovely little book about one of our most versatile, yet underrated trees.
The book is a pleasant and satisfying read – the writing style is easy-going and informative, without being over-technical. Throughout, the author conveys his enthusiasm, the respect he has for the craftsmen he meets and the determination he has that every last part of the tree is utilised - even the off cuts and sawdust are used to warm his house and office, and the leaves and brash are left as wildlife habitats, to eventually decay and nourish the soil for the next generation of trees.
The book, however, ends with a stark warning about the future of this amazingly versatile, renewable resource. With the threat of Ash Dieback and the even greater threat posed by the Asian Ash Borer Beetle – that has yet to reach these shores, but which has devastated ash trees in the US – you have to wonder whether future woodsmen and craftsmen will be looking back at this book with envy.
My only criticism of this book is that it lacks pictures of the finished products or the craftsmen at work that would have made this the perfect little book. However, this didn’t detract from my enjoyment and, although I was already aware of ash wood’s use for tool handles and historically for lances, and car and aircraft bodies, I will certainly be viewing ash trees in a different light from now on.
In this book he selects and cuts down a mature (approx 120 years old) ash tree (sadly not from his own wood, where the trees were unsuitable for use) to see how many things could be made from it. Then, travelling from Wales across Europe and Ireland to the USA, he finds that the old skills and knowledge of the properties of ash are very much alive. He starts with simple axe handles on an industrial estate in Wales, travels to rural Northern England for a wheel, Ireland for a hurling stick, Austria for a toboggan and even the US for a traditional baseball bat, with various other stops along the way. With each object he not only details how it was made but also gives some of the history, science and folklore behind it and how the ecology and inherent properties of the tree lend themselves to producing not just a functional object that will last for years, but also a thing of beauty – something much harder to find in these days of cheap mass production.
If I was being pedantic, the book would more accurately be titled, The Man Who Got Other People to Make Things Out of A Single Tree. But that aside this is a lovely little book about one of our most versatile, yet underrated trees.
The book is a pleasant and satisfying read – the writing style is easy-going and informative, without being over-technical. Throughout, the author conveys his enthusiasm, the respect he has for the craftsmen he meets and the determination he has that every last part of the tree is utilised - even the off cuts and sawdust are used to warm his house and office, and the leaves and brash are left as wildlife habitats, to eventually decay and nourish the soil for the next generation of trees.
The book, however, ends with a stark warning about the future of this amazingly versatile, renewable resource. With the threat of Ash Dieback and the even greater threat posed by the Asian Ash Borer Beetle – that has yet to reach these shores, but which has devastated ash trees in the US – you have to wonder whether future woodsmen and craftsmen will be looking back at this book with envy.
My only criticism of this book is that it lacks pictures of the finished products or the craftsmen at work that would have made this the perfect little book. However, this didn’t detract from my enjoyment and, although I was already aware of ash wood’s use for tool handles and historically for lances, and car and aircraft bodies, I will certainly be viewing ash trees in a different light from now on.
Doorstep Wilderness – A Wilder Side of Dublin by Paul Hughes
Although this book may appeal mostly to my Dublin friends, it could equally apply to any riverside in any city or town where wildlife and man live side-by-side, often in blissful ignorance.
This wonderful compilation of photographs chronicles a year in the life of a collection of the resident wildlife along just a half mile section of the River Dodder, from the Aviva Stadium to Ball’s Bridge. Despite the density of houses, office blocks, and commuter and stadium traffic, the variety of creatures that survive on and beside the river is quite amazing. The photographs explore the startling changes and drama in the circle of life and, often violent, death as they unfold through the seasons.
While it mostly concentrates on a family of foxes, there is also a wide cast of supporting and bit parts, including otters, herons, swans, kingfishers, trout and salmon, sparrow hawk, cormorant, moorhens and mallards, squirrels, wagtails and dippers, and many, many more, each taking to this largely man-made stage. It makes you realise that, even in the largely unnatural world of concrete and glass in which we live, nature will always find a way to adapt and take advantage.
And if it makes you want to sit by your local river, stream or lake with a camera, even if during a lunch break, then so much the better. You never know which of the many characters you might see.
This wonderful compilation of photographs chronicles a year in the life of a collection of the resident wildlife along just a half mile section of the River Dodder, from the Aviva Stadium to Ball’s Bridge. Despite the density of houses, office blocks, and commuter and stadium traffic, the variety of creatures that survive on and beside the river is quite amazing. The photographs explore the startling changes and drama in the circle of life and, often violent, death as they unfold through the seasons.
While it mostly concentrates on a family of foxes, there is also a wide cast of supporting and bit parts, including otters, herons, swans, kingfishers, trout and salmon, sparrow hawk, cormorant, moorhens and mallards, squirrels, wagtails and dippers, and many, many more, each taking to this largely man-made stage. It makes you realise that, even in the largely unnatural world of concrete and glass in which we live, nature will always find a way to adapt and take advantage.
And if it makes you want to sit by your local river, stream or lake with a camera, even if during a lunch break, then so much the better. You never know which of the many characters you might see.
Humble by Nature by Kate Humble
This is the story of how in 2007 the TV presenter (best known for Springwatch/ Autumnwatch and Lambing Live) and her husband gave up life in London for a rural life in Monmouthshire, gradually sharing it with a variety of animals.
Then in 2010, when the recession hit, they took on the ownership of a nearby farm in the Wye Valley that the owning council, along with many others up and down the country, was determined to break up and sell off to raise money. Struck by the short-sightedness of the loss of yet another farm, potentially to developers, they successfully battled the council, bureaucracy, building regulations and frustration to keep it a working farm, from where they also planned to run a rural skills, conservation management and animal husbandry school (which the named Humble by Nature). They also had to battle locals who were very suspicious of what was happening and architects determined to impose their own ideas.
The book is written in a straightforward and down-to-earth style and what really comes across is Kate’s enthusiasm for what she does, even as she experiences a rollercoaster of emotions, from the highs of seeing her dreams coming to fruition, to the frustrations of dealing with let downs and red-tape, to the lows of the inevitable losses that are part of rearing livestock (there is an old farming saying - where you have livestock you also have deadstock). Although being a TV celebrity must also have opened a few doors that would otherwise have remained firmly shut, you get the impression that Kate does not flaunt her status. What also comes across is the fact that she clearly knows an awful lot more about raising animals than she lets on in front of the cameras, and what she doesn’t know she’s more than willing to learn by hands on experience. This isn’t the story of some celebrity wanting to play at farming until they get bored and move onto something else, but of someone with a genuine love of the countryside.
Surprisingly Springwatch and Autumnwatch barely get a mention (personally I think that both programmes have gone downhill since Kate, Bill Oddie and Simon King left), but there is a lot about Lambing Live, the programme that really kick-started her dreams of immersing herself in a rural life.
There are certainly better and more entertaining books on the life of a smallholder - “Pigs in Clover” by Simon Dawson and “Scenes From a Smallholding” by Chas Griffin both come to mind, but if you love animals or hanker after a more fulfilling way of life or just want a good heartwarming read then this book is worth a look.
Then in 2010, when the recession hit, they took on the ownership of a nearby farm in the Wye Valley that the owning council, along with many others up and down the country, was determined to break up and sell off to raise money. Struck by the short-sightedness of the loss of yet another farm, potentially to developers, they successfully battled the council, bureaucracy, building regulations and frustration to keep it a working farm, from where they also planned to run a rural skills, conservation management and animal husbandry school (which the named Humble by Nature). They also had to battle locals who were very suspicious of what was happening and architects determined to impose their own ideas.
The book is written in a straightforward and down-to-earth style and what really comes across is Kate’s enthusiasm for what she does, even as she experiences a rollercoaster of emotions, from the highs of seeing her dreams coming to fruition, to the frustrations of dealing with let downs and red-tape, to the lows of the inevitable losses that are part of rearing livestock (there is an old farming saying - where you have livestock you also have deadstock). Although being a TV celebrity must also have opened a few doors that would otherwise have remained firmly shut, you get the impression that Kate does not flaunt her status. What also comes across is the fact that she clearly knows an awful lot more about raising animals than she lets on in front of the cameras, and what she doesn’t know she’s more than willing to learn by hands on experience. This isn’t the story of some celebrity wanting to play at farming until they get bored and move onto something else, but of someone with a genuine love of the countryside.
Surprisingly Springwatch and Autumnwatch barely get a mention (personally I think that both programmes have gone downhill since Kate, Bill Oddie and Simon King left), but there is a lot about Lambing Live, the programme that really kick-started her dreams of immersing herself in a rural life.
There are certainly better and more entertaining books on the life of a smallholder - “Pigs in Clover” by Simon Dawson and “Scenes From a Smallholding” by Chas Griffin both come to mind, but if you love animals or hanker after a more fulfilling way of life or just want a good heartwarming read then this book is worth a look.
Adam’s Farm – My Life on the Land by Adam Henson.
Best known as a presenter on BBC’s Countryfile, this book is an account of the highs and lows as it follows him through a year on his farm in the Cotswolds, a tenancy that he inherited from his father. It begins with the joy of new life as he admits to having never lost the overwhelming joy at watching the birth of new lambs. However, this high is tempered by the deeply worrying and emotional times as his cattle are tested for TB, a disease that, if present, will shut down his farm as far as cattle movements are concerned and that will see the compulsory slaughter of his prize animals. Anyone who cynically thinks that the compensation paid out by the government in any way makes up for the distress should read Adam’s moving account of the stresses, frustrations and heartache that goes with a process and outcome over which he has no control. That he endures this emotional rollercoaster in front of the cameras makes the whole process even more daunting.
However, there is no getting away from the fact that livestock farming is a business and that the inevitable route for many of these animals will end as food on someone’s table. He does not shy away from this but discusses it in a rational way that acknowledges that there is an emotional side to seeing your livestock going off to slaughter.
Being a mixed farm, the sections on the production of wheat and barley and how the vagaries of the weather can, almost overnight, turn a healthy profit into a shattering loss are also interesting reading. It is especially interesting to follow his attempts for find new markets for a product that has to compete with the fickle supermarkets. There is also an interesting exploration of the current drive to become organic and what that means for a farmer who has to farm organically for 2 years (with the associated additional costs and decrease in yield) to achieve accreditation, whilst still having to sell to the conventional market (at conventional prices).
The most interesting parts of the book for me are his attempts to preserve some of our traditional livestock breeds, many of which fell out of favour as new breeds were specifically ‘engineered’ to produce meat, milk and wool on an industrial scale, ever driven by the consumer’s demand for cheaper products. The background to the each of the breeds is very interesting, from Gloucester Old Spot and Iron Age pigs, to Herdwick and Whitefaced Dartmoor sheep, to White Park and Longhorn cattle, to Bagot goats. Each is a fascinating story of the dedication of a few people around the country to ensure that they do not become extinct.
Life on the land is unpredictable in a way that modern society, becoming ever more detached from the natural world, has increasing difficulty relating to. It is emotional, varied and never dull and what comes across is that, despite the rollercoaster ride, here is a man who loves what he does, and how many people can honestly say that.
However, there is no getting away from the fact that livestock farming is a business and that the inevitable route for many of these animals will end as food on someone’s table. He does not shy away from this but discusses it in a rational way that acknowledges that there is an emotional side to seeing your livestock going off to slaughter.
Being a mixed farm, the sections on the production of wheat and barley and how the vagaries of the weather can, almost overnight, turn a healthy profit into a shattering loss are also interesting reading. It is especially interesting to follow his attempts for find new markets for a product that has to compete with the fickle supermarkets. There is also an interesting exploration of the current drive to become organic and what that means for a farmer who has to farm organically for 2 years (with the associated additional costs and decrease in yield) to achieve accreditation, whilst still having to sell to the conventional market (at conventional prices).
The most interesting parts of the book for me are his attempts to preserve some of our traditional livestock breeds, many of which fell out of favour as new breeds were specifically ‘engineered’ to produce meat, milk and wool on an industrial scale, ever driven by the consumer’s demand for cheaper products. The background to the each of the breeds is very interesting, from Gloucester Old Spot and Iron Age pigs, to Herdwick and Whitefaced Dartmoor sheep, to White Park and Longhorn cattle, to Bagot goats. Each is a fascinating story of the dedication of a few people around the country to ensure that they do not become extinct.
Life on the land is unpredictable in a way that modern society, becoming ever more detached from the natural world, has increasing difficulty relating to. It is emotional, varied and never dull and what comes across is that, despite the rollercoaster ride, here is a man who loves what he does, and how many people can honestly say that.
From A to Bee – My First Year as a Beginner Beekeeper by James Dearsley.
If you are considering becoming a beekeeper then this book will hopefully help you to avoid many of the basic pitfalls that you will undoubtedly encounter, whilst giving a lot of sound advice on where to look for help. If you are looking for an excuse as to why you shouldn’t become a beekeeper then you will find more than enough to back you up within the covers of James Dearsley’s entertaining book.
The book, written as a diary, starts off in September when, spurred on by wanting to do something to address the plight of bees in this country, he decides to become a beekeeper. It then follows his first full year from attending beekeeping courses, to buying his two hives (one a traditional wooden one and the other a not so traditional plastic one), the eventual collection of a swarm and his subsequent adventures and misadventures as he strives for his goal of obtaining at least one jar of honey by the end of the year. However, this book isn’t just about life in the hive but how his new found hobby fits into his work and family life.
Along the way he has the ability to poke fun at his accident-prone self and his mistakes and panics, such as when he feeds his bees brown sugar syrup which causes dysentery, or how he discovers that it is not a good idea to shine a torch into the hive entrance at night, or the downside of approaching a hive unprotected, or why socks are not adequate protection against ‘ankle-biters’. As well as entertaining, the book is informative and explains a lot about the lives and desperate plight of these fascinating little creatures without ever getting bogged down in scientific jargon. By the end of it you may not have discovered a long hidden determination to be a beekeeper but you will probably understand why there are others who have.
I read this book by the pool on holiday and found it a really enjoyable read - a little piece of English eccentricity and nature in foreign climes. If you want an entertaining, light hearted and interesting read on the subject of honeybees and why they are so important to us, then James's book is just the thing. It is also a perfect accompaniment to the last book I reviewed: “A Sting in the Tale – My Adventures with Bumblebees” by Dave Goulson.
As to whether he achieves his goal of a single jar of honey... you’ll just have to read it and find out.
The book, written as a diary, starts off in September when, spurred on by wanting to do something to address the plight of bees in this country, he decides to become a beekeeper. It then follows his first full year from attending beekeeping courses, to buying his two hives (one a traditional wooden one and the other a not so traditional plastic one), the eventual collection of a swarm and his subsequent adventures and misadventures as he strives for his goal of obtaining at least one jar of honey by the end of the year. However, this book isn’t just about life in the hive but how his new found hobby fits into his work and family life.
Along the way he has the ability to poke fun at his accident-prone self and his mistakes and panics, such as when he feeds his bees brown sugar syrup which causes dysentery, or how he discovers that it is not a good idea to shine a torch into the hive entrance at night, or the downside of approaching a hive unprotected, or why socks are not adequate protection against ‘ankle-biters’. As well as entertaining, the book is informative and explains a lot about the lives and desperate plight of these fascinating little creatures without ever getting bogged down in scientific jargon. By the end of it you may not have discovered a long hidden determination to be a beekeeper but you will probably understand why there are others who have.
I read this book by the pool on holiday and found it a really enjoyable read - a little piece of English eccentricity and nature in foreign climes. If you want an entertaining, light hearted and interesting read on the subject of honeybees and why they are so important to us, then James's book is just the thing. It is also a perfect accompaniment to the last book I reviewed: “A Sting in the Tale – My Adventures with Bumblebees” by Dave Goulson.
As to whether he achieves his goal of a single jar of honey... you’ll just have to read it and find out.