It all begins with a dead hedge…

January 6th 2026

After many family discussions we have finally chosen the plot for the flower farm. With much excitement I’m keen to crack on and get the farm set up but yet again the British weather has other plans and is showing me that I need to slow down and acknowledge what’s going on around me. I can’t rush in because the ground is too wet. The winter rain this year has made the ground so wet we can’t work on it.

So instead, Neil and I start with watching the space. Where does the sun first hit the ground, where does the wind blow strongest, which areas are flooded more than others. I’m learning at this early stage that observations are the key to making this venture successful. Here I will give Neil credit, he is much better at stepping back and observing than I am. He will notice the change in the wind and understand where the shadows will lie. He can see the layout of the flower beds because he has observed the field and seen how the weather dictates what we can do.

As we can’t get on the ground to put up tunnels or make flower beds we are working on a wind break. This is where the dead hedge come in. The flower is in view from parents living room so our dead hedge will also give a nicer view for them to look out onto (instead of the rabbit fencing). Using Willow cutting taken from a hedge laying project elsewhere on the property we begin the process of building a dead hedge that will eventual become a living row of Willows for us to harvest.

As we are here tapping in willow stakes and weaving in the branches a Wren is already investigating. She’s looking for insects we have disturbed and maybe a place to build a nest this spring. It feels good to be putting some new habitat back in to what was a plain grass field.

As I sit here in the cold and damp looking at what we are creating I have visions of friends getting together for a Willow weaving workshop, an invited guest teacher sharing her passion for her craft, with drinks of homemade apple juice and locally made warm Homity pie. But now it’s back to weaving in branches with frozen hands and numb toes!