Maple Field

16.05.2025

DAY  56  OF NO RAIN AT MAPLEFIELD

Day 56 of no rain;   a spring without rain is a deep worry for all of us whether searching for a bottle of milk or a parsnip;   it really matters when the Atlantic ‘lows’ fizzle out and the raging jet stream burrows down towards Iberia. But on Maple field,  I earth up the spuds with fresh hay  –   or rather ‘hay-them- up’ ,  as absolutely no soil was involved in this novel process ; the haulms are ruffed- round with Regency collars of green/brown plant material and the earth beneath them continues to break- out in a cold sweat of dew,  protected from the high ,annoying northeast wind which feels like it has just left the sea at a North Norfolk beach. And I scraped through the deep mulch between the rows to find friable, strongly damp,  perfectly approachable soil ;  not a clump, lump or drought fissure to be seen. I photographed this triumph and pin it above this piece.

None of this patch of first- principle, deep mulch covered in our own early cut hay (and has been since November 2023)  has ever been irrigated;  its source of water is entirely natural and artesian from below,  or Atlantic deluge from above. If we are going Gobi or Namib under global warming then this is one of the answers  –   to apply the fire- blanket of hay against the sun and whose interlocking fibres allow the rain through but imprison the escape of evaporation and clip the ferocious wings of the wind. Is it like the closed Dome roof of Wembley Stadium, trapping the breaths of 60,000 fans;   the canopy of mulch at Maplefield captures a million breaths of the Crossrail microbes, their perspiration and their exudates  –   nothing whatever is wasted, lost or forgotten from this field/garden notion of soil ,tarped- down with permanent hay,   you could live for 10,000 more years in perfect harmony with your surroundings;   with no other additions and no disturbances.

 Cover the whole arable area of Martin Parish in a similar way and you could feed 60,000 humans with the best food possible,  farmed and worked by 400 willing people,  performing useful, meaningful occupations.