Rewilding the Field

Hope, kinship and the sacred art of reciprocity. A personal essay

On a clear November morning, an early mist has settled over the field into a thick blanket of dew. The dew coats each blade of grass with tiny droplets of water, gathering in orbs at the tips which light up like stars when they catch the rays of the sun.

Leaves of ochre, mottle brown and flame-red drift gently from the trees and hedgerows towards the ground. Birch trees sway like underwater kelp forests; the last, yellowing leaves of the ash trees wave and flutter like fairy flags in a cornflower blue sky, and the oaks are clad in fine leafy crowns of burnished bronze, russet and gold. Autumn’s elegiac song, soon to be blown away with the coming winter winds.

A bright green woodpecker flashes through the trees. Morning calls of blackbird, robin and wren infuse the air with song. Meandering trackways left by fox and badger snake through the long grass, betraying the secrets of the night before, and a soft, earthy smell of mulch coats my tongue with a cool, metallic tang.

When the field at the bottom of our garden came up for rent a couple of years ago, the rent was cheap, so we took it on. The previous tenant used to mow it every few weeks, keeping it flattened to a featureless stubble. Now, last year’s acorns have grown into a miniature forest of saplings. Drifts of golden ragwort, birds foot trefoil and rosebay willowherb bring colour and insects in the warmer months, and many varieties of delicate, mysterious fungi grow here in the autumn. We mow around the edges once a year to keep the brambles from taking over, but otherwise, we let the field be.

I’m getting to know the other residents. Hobbies and buzzards, field mice and glow worms. A feast of wild forage — nettles and cleavers in early spring, elderflowers on the full moon closest to the summer solstice, berries and rosehips in the fall — which I gather with my children to show them how they are connected to and supported by the medicine and nourishment of the earth. Emperor dragonflies, barn owls, hummingbird hawk-moths. Sweet violet, mugwort and meadowsweet. Skeins of wild geese passing overhead on their migratory paths. Spirit made visible.

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