The publication of George Monbiot’s new tome Regenesis and the Government’s National Food Strategy have both generated a lot of social and mainstream media attention.
It’s easy to feel downhearted at the verbal lashings metered out to farmers on a daily basis as they get blamed for creating an environment that’s portrayed as spiralling into decline. And perhaps what’s most depressing is that there seems to be an unwillingness to even acknowledge the many positive things farmers are doing already.
Now I’d be wrong to say that there’s not room for improvement, but I’m getting very fed up with the whole of British agriculture being tarred and feathered. I sometimes think that some environmental lobbyists are living on a different planet to me or have become so focused on the negative that they can no longer see the positive. The narrative that farms have become desolate just doesn’t add up to those of who live and work there.
One of very few downsides to living on the Herefordshire/Shropshire border is having to trek over to the arable heartlands in the East. These little forays usually result in an overnight stay and it’s not glamorous. But the B&B in Great Chishill where I stayed for Cereals totally bucked the trend. Greeted with a smile and shown my room, I hadn’t got as far as putting the kettle on for a cuppa before there was a little tap on the door and an offer to show me around the farm. That’s an offer I’d never refuse!
So 10 minutes later I jumped into the Polaris waiting outside and Nell, the farm’s terrier, hopped on my lap with paws on the dash for a better view. I couldn’t have been more at home. Driving me was Peter Wiseman and although strangers, we slipped easily into conversation as we toured the 1000 acres.
Peter told me that his father had come to the farm in 1938 as a tenant on the then 364-acre farm. Over time the farm had been purchased and expanded to the area it is today, which includes land he and his son contract farm for neighbours.
The farm boasts the highest point in Cambridgeshire and sits on the border with Essex and is also a stone’s throw from the boundary with Hertfordshire. The farm is growing oilseed rape for the first time in several years and the hybrid crops, drilled early, look fantastic. Across the farm Skyfall, Crusoe and Skyscraper form the bulk of the winter wheat, with hybrid barley, spring oats and spring beans making up the remainder of the cropping. Peter says they plough rotationally, usually one year in four, but in between times the strategy is min-till.
As we head further out from the yard, one side of the grassy track is a hedgerow, on the other is a field of wheat and before long a flock of linnets is flitting along in front of us, skimming the crop. A little further on it’s yellowhammers that glide along the top of the hedgerow before disappearing into its safety. Then just in front of us a group of skylarks gracefully rise from the ground and dip back into the cover of the crop. That was three red list species we’d spotted in as many minutes.
Peter says the skylarks have never been in decline on the farm, they’d been there as long as he could remember. He’s quick to point out that the farm isn’t in any environmental schemes but what’s obvious as we navigate the network of farm tracks is the diversity of habitats the farm has maintained – with plenty of hedgerows threading their way across the arable land, as well as deciduous woodland and ponds. It’s a great haven for the fallow deer.
A hare pops up in front of the Polaris and Nell stiffens as she watches, eager to give chase. A buzzard sits atop a tall tree, regally surveying the open space around him and Peter nods towards the woodland where red kites are nesting. Barn owls also have a residence on the farm, though Peter sadly says something had killed one earlier this spring. That disappointment was slightly offset by the news that four barn owl chicks have just hatched in the resident nest.
We travel a short way down the road to call into a block of land the other side because here a particularly rare semi-parasitic wildflower is growing in the grassy track alongside the hedge – crested cow-wheat. It wasn’t long before Peter spots its magenta flower and stopped alongside to give me a better view of the delicate and understated plant that’s thriving in the same place it’s always been found growing on the farm.
On returning to the homestead, Peter’s wife Jean invites me in for a cup of tea and a scone – what a fabulous end to the day and proof that not only is the farming community a real family but also that nature is still thriving on many farms. All really isn’t the doom and gloom it’s portrayed to be.
This article was taken from the latest issue of CPM. For more articles like this, subscribe here.
