Episode 2.84 - Drought Whips and Hornbeam Bracts

Send us Fan Mail On a breezy mid-August morning at High Ash Farm, with temperatures still high after another week above 30°C and only a fleeting six millimetres of rain quickly absorbed by the parched ground, Chris Skinner and Matthew Gudgin survey the aftermath of intensive fire-prevention work. The last of the waist-high pollen and nectar fields have been cut short, tedded to knock seeds to the ground, and baled — one bale per acre — removing the worst of the fire risk, though the stubble remains flammable. Chris reflects on a close shave with a takeaway barbecue in Successional Woodland the previous week and welcomes the temporary removal of disposable barbecues from supermarket shelves across the UK. Standing among the Sahara-coloured fields, Chris openly shares three “cockups.” A two-year-old double-row hedge of 750 hawthorn and oak whips, planted to divide a large arable block, has largely failed in the drought despite tree guards; fingernail tests reveal most stems are brown and dead. He also recounts the ill-fated “Hideaway” bird-hide venture of twenty-five years ago, when paying visitors used the sound-insulated hides as toilets, ruining carpets and forcing him to sell most of the carefully built structures. Nearby, a carbon-offset acre planted in 2006 for Notre Dame School pupils’ flights to China prompts deeper reflection: one day’s emissions from Norwich Airport would require the entire farm to be wooded for a century, while recent pollution killed thousands of fish in the River Wensum after a short downpour. Moving to Cantley Hill Plantation, they admire ancient, gnarled hornbeams marking the woodland corners — hard, slow-growing native trees at the northern edge of their range. Chris examines the hanging seed bracts containing twin nutlets, a favourite of bramblings and hawfinches, and digs tiny seedlings from the dry woodland floor to gift to a neighbouring bonsai enthusiast. Amid the dryness, swallows skim the cut fields, pipistrelle bats replace them at dusk, and a pied wagtail forages on horse-grazed pasture already being fed winter hay. Listener letters bring further notes: the return of chatty starlings after the departure of swifts, and a Dorset farmer’s shared anxiety over tinder-dry land and nearby open fires. This episode is an honest, sun-baked reflection on drought, human error and the quiet resilience of native trees — ideal for savouring the hard lessons of extreme weather, the overlooked beauty of hornbeam, and the everyday wildlife that still thrives at High Ash Farm.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ Support the show Please email any questions for Chris to answer on the podcast to Chris@highashfarm.com This podcast is brought to you by High Ash Farm. To support our efforts in creating this content, please consider making a small monthly or one-off donation. Your contributions help us with production costs, and after expenses, every penny goes towards conservation and maintaining free public access at High Ash Farm. Support us here: https://donorbox.org/podcast-12 or from the Podcast page here: Podcast | High Ash Farm