Grass, plural

What happened today then. Well, I allowed myself a small jump of joy as the top three quarters of the field are now clear of ragwort. There remains one dense patch at the bottom and a general sweep and then it’s all done, ragwort-wise. Should have the whole thing cleared by the end of the week.

You might be wondering whether this is really worth it. I’ve been wondering this myself a few times as this seems such a waste of time. But then you have to remember that what has been about four weeks cumulative work by me has prepared the hay for the whole winter feeding the cows and sheep as well as being used for bedding for most of them over the year as needed. So it’s not that stoopid really.

I’ve been struck by the range of grasses up on the field because you don’t usually see such a variety. Most lawns and parks have a single variety while most farms are a uniform dark green. Here there are lush thick grasses that don’t grow too tall, very tall blades of grass, long stems with seed bunches at the top and many more varieties. Even within those descriptions there are numerous shades and densities making for a patchwork that shimmers as some grasses bend more in the wind.

I suspected that this was unique to an organic field and, yes, pesticides and weed killers do render a field of grass uniform. Interestingly, the mixed up organic field is not only better for the animals because of the lack of chemicals but also gives them a more varied diet. So for the herbivores these fields are like an infinite menu of every flavour under the sun (or at least the Isle of Wight sun). Add to this all the insects, and the animals that feed on them, that survive because of the lack of pesticides, and whatever else feeds on particular grasses, and, well, it’s all nature, innit.

And to think, all of that would be wiped away with a day’s spraying.