Dipping a toe into grasslands

Romy discovers just how great (and overlooked) grasslands are...

Meadows are overlooked by many. I’m ashamed to say that this included me. It’s no secret that I preferred the most dramatic landscapes, those carved by glaciers. On a mountainside, you are surrounded by distances too far to traverse and objects too massive to fully comprehend. Humbling, really. Yet something changed during this traineeship. I got the nagging suspicion that my preferences have caused me to overlook that which should not be overlooked. It’s often the smallest parcels of countryside - full of plants that could be considered unassuming - that contain the most splendour, intricacy and dynamism.

The suspicion materialised on a Tuesday morning. May had been notable for its near-constant sunshine, interspersed with short, heavy bouts of rain. Ideal growing conditions. As I stood in a sunny carpark, I watched the morning wave of officers filing out of the barn at Lower Smite as they set off across the county. Most days, I would join them but as the rush died down, I remained in the car park with a growing group of people. I’d heard the farm volunteers referenced many times but this was my first time of meeting them. In fact, it was a tragedy that I hadn’t explored Lower Smite Farm at all; it's not just the base of operations for the Trust, it also showcases environmentally-friendly farming techniques - all made possible by the farm volunteers.

Four people around a quadrat surveying plants by Romy Clarke — Surveying by Romy Clarke

After cheerful introductions, we began discussing the day’s agenda. I made it abundantly clear to everyone that meadow condition monitoring was new to me, in the hopes that I would be taken under the farm volunteers' metaphorical wing. The tactic worked and the experienced volunteers launched into recalling the previous meadow surveys. I listened closely as we started towards the field in question.

Towards the back of the farm, we entered a wide, rolling field. The wind had picked up at this point, causing shadows to race over the vast swathes of wildflowers that covered the knoll. Clues in the shape of the field hinted at a past of arable use. This was confirmed by Jasmine, the Trust's farming and wildlife officer and today’s party leader. Its days of growing produce were over, she said. The field had been transformed into a traditionally managed hay meadow, and that management was strict.

For a hay meadow to be successful, sites like this are cut at the summer’s end and the hay is bailed up and sold. Following this, a handful of cows, sheep or ponies would graze the new growth and leftover thatch until the spring. I was still left with questions, so the volunteers collectively explained the theory behind the practice. Generally speaking, many of our rarer herbaceous plants require bright light and little nutrients. For healthy, biodiverse meadows, grasses must be kept low to prevent shading, hay must be removed to prevent decay and thatch/new growth should be removed for both reasons. Any plant matter decaying on the field would inadvertently fertilise it, which opens the niche to more competitive, abundant plant species such as dock, nettle or creeping thistle.

Grassland condition form with a map on a grid base by Romy Clarke — Grassland survey form by Romy Clarke

Jasmine pulled out a map of the site that was overlain with a grid of dots, each one representing a surveying site. We split ourselves into groups to cover more ground. Many had already begun pointing out notable plants as the volunteers began unfolding a large metal frame. It was crisscrossed with woollen string, forming a grid pattern. Together we gently nestled what I realised was a quadrat in the sward. I had been given a list of species to check off but the more I stared at the quadrat, the more Herculean that task became. This relatively small square was dense with greenery of countless shapes and sizes. Meadow buttercups floated about the crowd, occasionally joined by the wide heads of the oxeye daisies and the dandelion-like hawk’s beard. Clover, a mess of burgundy tufts, jostled beneath. Mixed in were more delicate flowers still. legumes of many colours corkscrewed through the undergrowth, the egg-yolk yellow bird’s-foot trefoil being the brightest and most numerous. The identification of yellow rattle brought enthusiasm to the group. Jasmine explained how this plant is able to parasitise the tall grass.

I could suddenly see the ebb and flow of grasses, flowing around the islands of yellow rattle. In fact, I could see patterns in all the wildflowers, weaving and interacting, producing the most intricate of scenes.

Lower Smite was purchased in 2001, which meant that, as traditionally managed wildflower meadows go, it's in its infancy. Seeing the difference made in this short time was incredible but I knew there was more work to be done. I had visited other Trust sites that are veterans in this respect, Foster's Green (which contains Eades Meadow) is an amazing example of 100 years of traditional management, with a completely different ecosystem. I wonder where Lower Smite will be in 100 years? Whatever happens, I hope it’s as well looked after as it is now.