Hedgeside
My hedgerow is just beginning to come to life with little buds and fresh green shoots starting to show. I call it my hedge as it is the hedge which holds the gap where my gate hangs, marking the entrance to my workshop.
Those who have been to my Open Studio will recognise it, but to give a sense of the layout, my workshop consists of a little row of old agricultural buildings which stand in a small section of field. On the northern edge of this rectangle is my hedgerow and it separates me from the lane above. The buildings are contained in a small area of grassland on the other three sides by a wooden stock fence (it also keeps the geese at home). The oblong of sheds runs North/South, with their backs to the prevailing West wind.
So, this hedge is part of my everyday. I’ve got to know it quite well. The first greening is from a wild gooseberry amongst the hawthorn, though there is a section of holly. I can’t discount the lichen colouring either, which glows gold some days, shows intense fresh lime and also the softest, most mellow grey-green. There is a rose, just showing shoots, which later in the year is fragrant with white flowers. Pushing for space is a small hazel, whose slender twigs are a mass of wriggly catkins.
The hedge offers shelter, at its base the earth is dry and fine for burrowing, and it supports all manner of wildlife as a food source. Many of my sculptures have been inspired by birds or animals that have inhabited or scurried through this hedgerow.
I’ve spent many hours sitting at its base, looking up into the interior, into the tangled heart of it, watching birds, insects – the light and dark of it, the wet and dry – I would gladly become an inhabitant. Surrounding where I sit, the sun has brought out the celendines, now lively with their bright yellow petals.
What a beautiful, bounteous boundary I have.
11 Comments
beautiful pictures and descriptions and while the details are lovely, I would like to see a long shot of it.
Ellen, your wish is my command – if it isn’t raining tomorrow I will do some ‘long shots’ for you. Long is actually quite short, I have a very modest set-up here – but I’ll get images of every inch of my hedge and send.
Ellen, just posted the long shot for you
I envy you your hedgerows and I wonder why on earth they don’t have them here. The closest thing to that would be the trees and shrubs that line the edges of some of the fields. It’s a much needed habitat, but the farmers like to mow stuff down and keep it neat….a real shame.
Can I ask if you remember where you found the grey social media plugins? I am looking for something less obtrusive, and there are so many to go through.
Jen
We had a time here when they began to be ploughed upand ripped out, for big farm machinery and maximising acreage, but farmers can now attract conservation incentives for looking after and improving hedgerows, which has helped. Re social media icons, I just downloaded them from the various sites and wrote them into my page, then linked them – I do have a plugin for auto update on my blog to social networks by NextScripts. (You can make them any size and any colour by writing simple code)
I wonder how old your magnificent hedge is? They are special places, aren’t they? They feel different to woods. We are lucky here- there are lots and lots of hedges and they too are starting to sprout fresh green hawthorn leaves amid the creamy white blackthorn flowers. I am getting Very Excited About Spring here now! x
A good question? According to ‘Hoopers rule’ maybe 500 years – I must do more delving into this – amazing to think that hedges were planted to encircle crops in Neolithic times.
Those are beautiful images we now have a very similar hedgerow on one of our boundary’s and we are enjoying seeing it starting to come to life. Sarah x
It is reassuring when you begin to see signs of growth isn’t it?
It is a great hedge. I love that you have a wild gooseberry there. The hedges here are ancient … holly, blackthorn, hawthorn, hazel, damson, bullace, sessile oak and elder are all mixed together in a short stretch – 900 years old? – and then there’s hops, ivy, blackberry and dog rose jumbled in too, with honeysuckle and crab apple if you walk down the field aways.
The gooseberries are the sweetest I’ve ever tasted, if I get there before the birds! It is that jumble, old rickety gnarled stems woven with spikes and mass of foliage, sprinkled with delicate petals and bursting with wildlife. Ah, hedgerows. Last year here, in the wet the lane above me ran like a river, with crab apples bobbing on the surface, having fallen ‘upstream’ – amazing sight – the geese loved it.