Will’s World: A return to the cutting hedge of farming
© Richard Stanton One of the more dispiriting aspects of getting older is that you can start to get set in your ways, and exciting fresh experiences become a thing of the past.
There are notable exceptions to this, of course, such as visiting the GP for your first routine prostate examination, or investing in a pair of eyebrow hair trimmers.
But generally, life can all get a bit routine when you pass 40.
See also: Hedgerows and grazing are transition focus for upland farm
About the author
But not me, as I steadfastly refuse to conform to conventional societal rules of how middle-aged men should behave.
So last week I pushed the envelope and did something completely new to me. That’s right, I laid a hawthorn hedge. Who said rock ’n’ roll is dead?
It was only a short stretch, and I’m not sure that the finished article is very pretty, but nevertheless it’s given me a great feeling of satisfaction and I enjoyed doing it immensely.
Golden oldie
Before I started, though, I did what everyone does these days and turned to the oracle that is YouTube for instruction.
I watched a few contemporary videos before my eye was irresistibly drawn to one produced by the Ministry of Information in 1942, simply titled “Hedging”.
What followed was eight minutes of pure delight, as I was introduced to a professional Northamptonshire hedge layer known only as “Dyton”, and his Land Girl assistant.
What I would need, I was told in the no-uncertain-terms style of the times, was a good stout slasher, a billhook, a sharp axe, and some leather mittens.
It went without saying that I would also need a rakish hat, a pipe firmly clamped between my teeth, and plenty of natural machismo.
© Emjay Smith/Adobe Stock
The tools wouldn’t be a problem, I thought, but I had to reluctantly admit that the attitude and style might be. They just don’t make them like they used to, as they say.
Still, at the end of the video the commentator made the point that a well-laid hedge’s “neat appearance is something a farmer can be proud of”, and that’s what I determined to aim for.
I didn’t really need to watch instructional videos, though, as I’m fortunate enough to have my own oracle in the form of the old man.
He was good enough to help me get started, and I was soon away, lost in the rhythm and motion of a job that’s been done on farms for hundreds of years.
Mindful craft
I do sometimes wonder if something fundamental has been lost with all the comfort and technology we’re surrounded by these days.
Being bombarded by constant emails, messages and phone calls, as everyone else is, it felt good to focus on something like this for a while. I believe they call it mindfulness.
The really nice thing about it is that this hedge was planted by my grandfather.
He used to lay a lot of hedges on the farm, and I like to think he would have been quite proud to see his grandson laying this one 35 years later, though I’m sure there would have been a bit of “constructive criticism” too.
I thought of him throughout, especially as I handled the well-worn short axe that he used so often for the job all those years ago; I might even have got a bit of sawdust in my eye at one point.
Anyway, it’s done, and I’m determined to do more next winter. I don’t have a Land Girl to help me, but I do have an interested 11-year-old daughter.
We’ve planted a lot of new hedges together over the past few years; perhaps she’ll lay them one day too.