THE biography of a hedge begins with its birth and whether this is dewy new or cobbled together. The first sort is the planted arboreal line; the other, a shrubby, scrubby barrier fashioned from pre-existing woodland. The hedge down the track to the house is the former—its hawthorns and blackthorns are as regular as teeth on a comb, evidence of a farmer planting by script.
According to biologist Dr Max Hooper’s famous formula, the age of a hedge = number of woody species in a 30-yard stretch x 110 + 30. Thus, the long and winding trackside hedge is about 600 years old, its staple of prickly trees intended to keep Tudor livestock in their place. Behind barbs, as it were. Time has augmented the hedge with dogwood, hazel, oak and field maple.
I suppose, for most of its life, the hedge was trimmed annually,so you could pop over it out hunting. Then, about 30 years ago, a 100-yard section was left to go absolutely wild, but with good reason. The hay barn opposite (a Brutalist grey, girder and sheet-metal affair) was, in some unfathomable exigency, constructed with its entrance to the west. Yes, the west, which brings the rains of all the known world. Eventually, to keep the wet off the hay, the facing hedge was allowed to grow up. And up.
Esta historia es de la edición July 22, 2020 de Country Life UK.
Comience su prueba gratuita de Magzter GOLD de 7 días para acceder a miles de historias premium seleccionadas y a más de 9,000 revistas y periódicos.
Ya eres suscriptor ? Conectar
Esta historia es de la edición July 22, 2020 de Country Life UK.
Comience su prueba gratuita de Magzter GOLD de 7 días para acceder a miles de historias premium seleccionadas y a más de 9,000 revistas y periódicos.
Ya eres suscriptor? Conectar
Save our family farms
IT Tremains to be seen whether the Government will listen to the more than 20,000 farming people who thronged Whitehall in central London on November 19 to protest against changes to inheritance tax that could destroy countless family farms, but the impact of the good-hearted, sombre crowds was immediate and positive.
A very good dog
THE Spanish Pointer (1766–68) by Stubbs, a landmark painting in that it is the artist’s first depiction of a dog, has only been exhibited once in the 250 years since it was painted.
The great astral sneeze
Aurora Borealis, linked to celestial reindeer, firefoxes and assassinations, is one of Nature's most mesmerising, if fickle displays and has made headlines this year. Harry Pearson finds out why
'What a good boy am I'
We think of them as the stuff of childhood, but nursery rhymes such as Little Jack Horner tell tales of decidedly adult carryings-on, discovers Ian Morton
Forever a chorister
The music-and way of living-of the cabaret performer Kit Hesketh-Harvey was rooted in his upbringing as a cathedral chorister, as his sister, Sarah Sands, discovered after his death
Best of British
In this collection of short (5,000-6,000-word) pen portraits, writes the author, 'I wanted to present a number of \"Great British Commanders\" as individuals; not because I am a devotee of the \"great man, or woman, school of history\", but simply because the task is interesting.' It is, and so are Michael Clarke's choices.
Old habits die hard
Once an antique dealer, always an antique dealer, even well into retirement age, as a crop of interesting sales past and future proves
It takes the biscuit
Biscuit tins, with their whimsical shapes and delightful motifs, spark nostalgic memories of grandmother's sweet tea, but they are a remarkably recent invention. Matthew Dennison pays tribute to the ingenious Victorians who devised them
It's always darkest before the dawn
After witnessing a particularly lacklustre and insipid dawn on a leaden November day, John Lewis-Stempel takes solace in the fleeting appearance of a rare black fox and a kestrel in hot pursuit of a pipistrelle bat
Tarrying in the mulberry shade
On a visit to the Gainsborough Museum in Sudbury, Suffolk, in August, I lost my husband for half an hour and began to get nervous. Fortunately, an attendant had spotted him vanishing under the cloak of the old mulberry tree in the garden.
