Most of us have a local patch near home where we walk and
know well. Our green is a well-manicured area where children play, and all
ages play football in winter and cricket in summer. Just a short distance
across the road from the green is ‘my patch’. Like the green itself, it's
common land, but this area has been mostly left to its own devices for
generations, and is now fast reverting to woodland.
Until about a decade ago there were areas of scrub and open
grassland here containing lovely wildlife features. Gorse and wildflowers
attracted birds, butterflies, lots of bees, and a few small trees added to the
variety of wildlife in our village. A couple of local community council
do-gooders thought differently, and decided it would be a good idea to create
more baron green open spaces. They removed the scrub, mowed the ground
incessantly, and canalised the little stream to drain the land. It was of course a
thankless task, and in the end they gave up. Nature abhors a vacuum, and in no time
at all the wildflowers and scrub returned, the drainage tiles they used were
crushed and blocked, and we have the birds and bees back again.
Walking through my patch this evening I’m struck by the size
and density of the trees. Nature is taking its course quickly, and already this
part of the common resembles mature woodland. Massive sycamores reach skywards, and there are oaks, horse chestnuts and willows getting ever taller by the year. The damp understory is lush with bramble and bracken, and buzzes with
hoverflies. There are a few white butterflies too, and a late breeding blackbird
comes close with a beak full of food for young I can hear in the
undergrowth. The beautiful soft dappled light catches just the tops of willow herbs
and foxgloves, playing tricks on the eye. It was not like this a decade ago, and I
know my patch will be mostly mature woodland before very long.
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