Too Many Trees

 Yesterday I walked across town to have a look at Borrowcrop Hill, an eminence associated in local legend with the slaughter of three Christian kings killed by the Romans around 300AD. There is nothing much to the hill now, hemmed in as it is by modern housing, but it sports an arcaded  brick gazebo dated to 1804, and it promises fine views across Lichfield and into the surrounding countryside. I say 'promises' advisedly; the reality is that most of those views are either compromised of blocked completely by trees – 'weed trees', mostly sycamore and ash, that have sprung up in recent years and more or less put paid to Borrowcrop Hill as a viewpoint.  Much the same thing has happened to the once fine views of the city from the nearby St Michael's churchyard, and I've noticed the same sad phenomenon in many other places that once commanded good views. The fact is that there are just too many trees – trees, that is, of the wrong kind, in the wrong place. This is what happens when trees are allowed to spring up and grow unchecked wherever they fancy. Woodland, on any scale, needs to be managed, otherwise it turns into a scrubby mess of weed trees and undergrowth. Blocking views is the least of it: unmanaged growth leads to the shading out of many species – including woodland butterflies – and a loss of what is now called 'biodiversity'. You might have thought that those in charge of managing our woodland would know this, but today I learn that Forestry England (formerly the Forestry Commission, and guilty of many crimes against the environment) has had a bright idea – yes, rewilding. What could possibly go wrong? Forestry England's plans have, in their own words, 'an exciting unpredictability', but they are 'confident that whatever happens', the rewilded woodlands will become 'more nature-rich, with benefits for neighbouring landscapes'. So that's all right then.
  What is needed is not 'rewilding' but proper management of existing woodland – especially coppicing and clearing – which in itself would create more biodiversity. And it's not just me saying this either – here's someone who knows what he's talking about, and his report is well worth reading. 
  Pictured below is something I did see on Borrowcrop Hill – a curious wood sculpture of an owl whose legs appear to go all the way up to his beak, and whose feet resemble a lion's. Funny old world.