Deadly
‘Nearly
all of them have been lost,’ I was told at a talk by a lecturer from
Wolverhampton University. It was called ‘Understanding Hay Meadows’. We have
two hay meadows – Oak Meadow and Goose Bottom and they are full of wildflowers,
the ones I remember from my childhood. I also heard about research and groups
trying to preserve and regrow these meadows.
At the
talk I learnt that since 1945 we have lost 97% of our traditional hay meadows. Does
it matter? Well, it means that we have also lost a great number of our
creatures and insects. It began to happen quickly in the war. My father, who
was a farmer, told me that in the last war the government encouraged farmers to
plough their traditional grass fields and plant them with crops, so that we
could be more independent as a country. And that is what he and his brother did.
Meadows
called, Far Side, Half Moon and Cabin were ploughed and planted with crops.
Mostly corn was grown but Home Field was planted with potatoes which were
becoming scarce. My Aunt tells a story of visiting us from the south bringing
an empty suitcase which they filled with potatoes to carry home, how heavy it
must have been!
Now we
have lighter nights I have taken to short walks after tea. Yesterday I was
enjoying the flowers in the roadside verges. The buttercups were especially
vibrant their yellow flowers holding up above the grass before they are outgrown
by the frothy hedge parsley which grows at an alarming rate attracting all
types of insects. I noticed the Herb Robert with their delicate purple, pink
flowers bright against the tarmac. I went to sit on a footpath stile in the
hedge, their step makes a good temporary resting place for me, then I noticed a
sycamore sapling bending and drooping.
‘What
has happened to the buttercups?’ I asked myself as I walked on. Their stems
were twisted and their heads beginning to hang. Suddenly all the roadside
herbage became grotesque caricatures of themselves. The little stream babbled
on unaware of the chemicals it could be carrying. The verge must have been
sprayed with a deadly weedkiller and soon the foliage and flowers will
disappear along with the insects.
There
has been only one swallow over our fields so far this year. I keep looking but to
date, they have not come back. Recently, I went to a friend’s farmhouse near
the Moss country of North Shropshire. They have an outdoor swimming pool which
glistened invitingly in the sunshine. Then out of the blue came a pair of
swallows chattering as they skimmed the water.
Herbage with weedkiller twisting as it wilts in the hedgerow
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