Sponge

Everything in nature is by design, if left to her own devices there's balance, everything works as it should. Topically, the forest today was a good example of how when land is allowed to fulfill it's nature and purpose flood risk to urban areas could be greatly reduced. In a recent article George Monbiot highlighted how a project to re-wild upland areas in Cumbria had been pulled, at the time with much applause from the local MP's, the same MP's who are currently wringing the hands over their flooded constituencies. Ah, the irony. Research and evidence clearly illustrate that re-wilding, planting trees, restoring the meanders in streams and letting land behave naturally, allow upland headwaters (and other green areas) and their environs to hold on to water; that water is then released slowly without the same levels of erosion and flooding down river. As I say 'by design'. Over the last 20 years a program to reintroduce bog woodland has been operating in the New Forest. Restoring the meandering streams to their pre-Victorian state (the Victorians straightened and dredged the forest streams to aid timber production), reducing their depth and blocking or filling many of the drains that fed them. The consequence being that the forest is now considerably wetter and holds on to its water for far longer.  In wet periods acres of heath and woodland are inundated.  Everywhere is water, and you can never be sure what you'll walk into. Only where you see movement can you identify  the course of a small stream or rivulet. At one point during our 'walk' today I saw an interesting sight.  The bottom photo shows what is usually a small meandering rivulet (a former straight dredged drain), no more that a metre wide and maybe 30cm deep. What was interesting was that it usually flows in the opposite direction out of the forest, although today it was flowing back into the forest and not out in the headwaters and streams. Theory in practice, I thought.  Rather that fighting nature, building futile defences or dredging, we need to look to nature and work with her. Step back in, and know our place.

Feral by George Monbiot

George Monbiots Feral is a fantastic exploration into the state of our landscapes and rewilding, pointing out how unnatural our landscapes we often view as natural really are, how many species are missing from them and just how much of our natural environment we've lost.  He points out the damage government policy does, the destructive nature of agricultural subsidies, how ridiculous and unfair our farming and land use practices are, how conservation can be misguided, myopic and hide a multitude of sins; and imagines how this situation could be changed to the benefit of all (or at least the benefit of most). Archaeology taught me how man has manipulated, altered and in some cases effectively destroyed the landscapes I roam, and although I was aware, I had never really thought to what extent or how far and wide ranging our actions had been on the structures and interactions in nature. Monbiot provides examples which really make you think to what extent we live in a pale shadow of a what our natural environment should be, but more, it's getting worse.

Although I've made it sound a depressing read (and it is in parts), it's not all grim reading, not by a long way. It's full of hope and optimism. Things could change and as soon as we stop intervening negatively, either by choice or other agency, things will change and nature will heal herself and hopefully return to the diverse and fecundant state she enjoyed before our meddling. He gives examples of people and enterprises who are working towards that goal and other successes.  It's a book that sets your imagination soaring; a book about what could be.  Go on, read it, you'll enjoy it.

It's brinken wet

Brinken's wet, increasingly more wetland that woodland, it's near impossible to walk a straight path. I found myself being cut off by engorged streams and the water filled hollows which snake and criss cross the woods; at several points I was forced to give up and back track until I found an alternative dry route. Brinken has always been wet, though in recent years, after stream remodeling and 'bog woodland restoration', it's become much wetter.  I'm currently reading George Monbiots 'Feral' and if I had reservations about the 'restoration' being undertaken in the forest before, Monbiots book, which discuses rewilding vs. conservation, has lent credence and more to my concerns. I've voiced previously that I found the aims of the restoration, to remove drainage and return the water ways and woodland to a pre-Victorian state, puzzling; why was that point in history chosen? If the purpose is to reverse human manipulation of the forest, why stop there, all it achieves is to turn the clock back 100 years, whereas the forest as we see it is the result of over 5000 years of human intervention. All that's being created is an artificial shadow of an arbitrary past environment, set in conservation aspic. Still, I digress. The woods were warmed by the last of the autumn Sun, which, in conjunction with the watery surroundings, have created wonderful and colourful reflection of autumns majesty. A joy to wander through. Though the leafs are almost gone now and soon these inundated woods will become bare, and wetter, becoming inhospitable and taking on quite an eerie air. That said, I fancy getting some wellies and coming out for a night walk sometime; might be fun, and certainly interesting.