When I sowed my first leeks 40 years ago, I, like my father and neighbours, felt I was fulfilling a profound, even moral, purpose: to grow food and feed people (the more the better) and on every square metre that could be bent to my will. As ego subsided with age, and as the crisis of climate change and biodiversity loss emerged, so too did an awareness that we sit within nature as well as on top of it, and that wielding our power with insensitivity and ignorance would be our downfall.
Like many farmers, I confess to being initially affronted by the rise of the rewilding movement which questioned the purpose of land stewardship and our profession. I remain concerned that rewilding substantial areas of productive land will offshore the environmental impact of feeding ourselves – often to countries with less regulation and more acute environmental and social challenges. But last week, Geetie and I were hosted by conservationists, Isabella Tree and Charlie Burrell, on our second visit to Knepp – their 3,500-acre, heavy clay, Sussex estate that has been largely rewilded over the last 20 years. Wonderful as it was to see storks and beavers thriving, and to eat in the fabulous restaurant (which we are flatteringly told was inspired by their son Ned’s stint at Geetie’s Bull Inn in Totnes) the most interesting aspect was witnessing Charlie, an estate-owning aristocrat and former conventional farmer, show so much humility at the feet of his teacher: Nature. Why was one field still mostly grass and ragwort, another largely brambles, one completely canopied in willow, and another a mixture of all?
Perhaps the weather conditions, quantity of acorns shed, or the number of rabbits scratching the surface played their parts, but with engaging humility, Charlie was happy to concede that he really didn’t know – there is no predetermined goal and he’s happy to let each former field find its own way towards an ecological climax that will not be reached until long after we are both underground. Listening led me to re-evaluate my calling and question the urge to control and impose tidiness. Perhaps the lesson to us all is one of accepting an outcome dictated by ecology rather than the owner’s master plan. So deep and profound has been the journey for Charlie and Isabella that the once-manicured but ecologically barren croquet lawn next to the castle has now gone the same way.
Learn more at knepp.co.uk. Photograph c/o Knepp.
Our News from the Farm posts come from Riverford. They are the digital versions of the printed letters which go out to customers, every week via Riverford’s veg boxes. Guy Singh-Watson’s weekly newsletters connect people to the farm with refreshingly honest accounts of the trials and tribulations of producing organic food, and the occasional rant about farming, ethical and business issues he feels strongly about.
Hi Guy – you might find Richard Mabey’s new book “The Accidential Garden” interesting…it follows his story in his garden in Norfolk.
I love how the land looks and obviously great for wildlife but where does our food come from? The fields where I live look fantastic full of wildflowers and sunflowers but they used to produce food. One farmer near me has grain stores full of grain but our local mills don’t want it because they are full of grain from Ukraine?!? In these uncertain times shouldn’t we be growing as much food as we can or are we going to rely on people like Bill Gates and his lab grown food?