Hedgelands
Christopher Hart (Chelsea Green, £20)
HEDGES are one of the happiest accidents in human history.’ So says the author, the owner of a cowy seven acres in Wiltshire, plus being the tea-maker, cheer-on guy and careful observer at the restored hedge of a nearby ‘mini-Knepp’ rewilding scheme. Christopher Hart hardly exaggerates, as his joyously readable book—it riffs along like breeze in the hedgerow—about Britain’s signature habitat proves. The hedge, originally created several thousand years ago as an intentional livestock barrier and/or boundary marker, became the appropriated location of choice for many of our native flora and fauna.
The thin green line is ‘perfect proxy’ in its ecological function, Mr Hart suggests, for the thicket and woodland edge of primordial Britain. I would even suggest that hedges are an enhancement of these natural features. A well-laid hedge is damnably difficult for foxes to break into when preying; thicket, in contrast, is relatively permeable for Mr Tod. Whatever, hedges agreeably support up to 80% of our woodland birds, 50%
