Hedgerows

Smithsonian magazine - which originated around 1970 - has represented well the purpose of the Smithsonian Institute (founded and maintained by the United States government since the 1800s) 'for the increase and diffusion of knowledge'. I remember that many of the early magazine issues were weighted toward the arts, but a more expanded range of topics developed over the years. I've enjoyed learning about art - say, about the letters van Gogh and his brother exchanged during their lives, or the Tapisserie de Bayeux, or the glass artist Dale Chihuly. Well-written and researched articles in other areas have stuck in my mind. One was about how numerous mines were still buried in the beaches and fields of France from the world wars I and II. Another was about the many almost magical species of jellyfish (now more commonly referred to as 'jellies' since they do not meet the definition of 'fish') living in the Earth's oceans and seas. The article I'm thinking about tonight was about the hedgerows of England, something I've never had the opportunity to see.

Decades have passed since I read that issue but I recall that some of the hedgerows - living, natural walls or fences or landscape dividing lines - were centuries old. While much of England's land was devoted to agriculture, the hedgerows evolved into little wildernesses where wildlife on a small scale could still exist. The hedgerows have an ecology of their own - birds and small mammals feeding from the berries and building nests and dens within. Moles and foxes, and little mice coexist there. The hedgerows - made of vines and thorny shrubs and twisted trees - have become so dense that they are difficult to get through, and people go around to gates and breaks to get past the intentional barrier the hedgerows create.

I have not seen quite that complex a living structure in the US, but there exist taller brakes made of fast-growing trees that create a kind of labyrinthian sensation.