I’m a Sussex farmer and have sold my hedge cutter (Letters, 14 September). My only regret is that I didn’t scrap it, as it will continue to do damage, just not on my farm. Our hedges are now billowing with life, the sliver of loss for food production is tiny in the grand scheme of things, and the effect on nature recovery has been astonishing, instant and long overdue. I’m no fan of the lawn initiative No Mow May; it leaves me wondering what the bugs do in June or February to survive.
With hedgerows there’s an ecological knowledge gap. Farmers know about growing food, but can be poorly informed about the needs of the wildlife. Using gut instinct alone, I might have refrained from cutting until September to avoid late nesters, or November to keep berries for birds, then wham, the annual short back and sides would smarten up the place and my mother would breathe a sigh of relief; her generation does like to see a “tidy” farm.
It helps to view this from the standpoint of a moth. We’re all aware of their dramatic declines; when I was a child, our porch light would be heaving with them, but sadly it’s rare to see any today. Our clean car windscreens are a testament to this declining trend. The life cycle of these heroes of pollination includes winter dormancy – and it’s no surprise that this takes place in hedges.
I wholeheartedly support considerate hedgerow management for road safety and in livestock areas; some rural counties would be impassable if it wasn’t for the skilled trim work of the dedicated farmers who maintain those iconic topiaries. But across great swathes of our green and pleasant land, farmers could give a little back to nature by doing nothing – enjoy a well-earned day off, save some diesel and marvel at the wonders throughout the year.
James Dunlop Baird
Littlehampton, West Sussex
