A View from the Hedgerow

A View from the Hedgerow

I've been recommending a book to friends and family for the last few months. It resonated with me so much that I did something I'd never done before: I emailed the author. The book struck a chord, and so did the man behind it.

I can't say exactly why, but my connection to it felt deep-rooted (excuse the pun). My great-great-grandfather Hedley was Head Gardener on the Tortworth estate in Gloucestershire (with one eye, I might add, having lost the other to gas in the trenches of the Somme). Growing up in London then going to agricultural college and much later falling in love with a book about hedgelaying may all be down in part to my horticultural DNA.

I'm sure that's part of why I've been drawn to Paul Lamb, author of Of Thorn & Briar: A Year with the West Country Hedgelayer. Paul is the West Country Hedgelayer, and he has been laying hedges around where Field & Flower is based for the past 30 years.

"Thousands of metres of hazel, blackthorn, beech, elm and hawthorn, laid with his own bare hands."

Like many of the people we meet through Field & Flower, Paul is a custodian of the land with an inspiring story. He spent his early years in New Zealand, and when he came back to England at 16 he soon found the fields of the West Country more comforting than suburban Essex, where his family lived. I can relate, having spent time on a cattle farm in the mountains of Gisborne in New Zealand.

Thirty years on, Paul has until recently been living on the road in his wagon, part home and part woodsman's retreat. He works alone, laying hazel, blackthorn, beech, elm and hawthorn and bringing hedgerows back to life with his own bare and tattered hands.

What the Hedgerow Has Seen

Paul poured me a cup of tea as I sat by the roaring log burner in his old farm kitchen. It felt like stepping into the pages of his book. Our conversation turned to farming almost straight away. After all, he's been out in the field for most of his adult life.

He explains beautifully the role hedgerows play for cattle, sheep and their young through cold, wet and windy spells. I was curious how he sees the connection between the land and the rest of us today, but his thoughts went first to the farmer or landowner, who is often his employer. He has watched farming mechanise first hand: driverless tractors, crop monoculture, computer-calculated fertiliser. It all continues the post-war push for large-scale food production, with hedgerows ripped out to make ever bigger fields and countryside skills lost with them.

"Paul has had the best seat in the house to watch rural Britain, and the people who farm it, change."

Some farmers, he told me, used to aim for holly bushes planted at equal distances along a hedgerow to keep their rows straight. Now GPS makes sure every inch of the field is covered and even turns the steering wheel, so they can read the paper in the cab without looking up. Much of what happens under Paul's nose is driven by the priorities DEFRA sets farmers and the push for cheap food. There's little a hedgelayer like Paul can do but look on as he creates habitats for birds, insects and wildflowers.

His book makes for a fascinating read. Paul has had the best seat in the house (or field) to watch rural Britain, and the people who farm it, change season by season. His writing is driven by wanting to hand his craft down, and it earned the book a place on the shortlist for the 2025 Wainwright Prize for Nature Writing.

Find the book

Of Thorn & Briar: A Year with the West Country Hedgelayer by Paul Lamb is available in most good bookshops. Follow Paul on Instagram at @westcountry_hedgelayer.