Your countryside

HAVE YOUR SAY ON RURAL ISSUES


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Letter of the month

PLODCAST APPRECIATION

Listen to calming country soundscapes on our Plodcast

What I love most about the BBC Countryfile Magazine Plodcast are Fergus’s long solo rambles. Your gently hushed voice cataloguing what you are seeing, feeling, sensing. They invite my imagination and soothe my soul. I love that you share your knowledge of the flora and fauna (which are mostly foreign to me) and your sense of awe and wonder and appreciation (which are not foreign to me).

Somehow, the fact that I don’t know the birds, nor the wildflowers, nor the terrain makes these episodes very attractive and calming for me. They offer an escape.

I know there are violations such as disrespectful dog owners letting their dogs harass wildlife, or litterers and encroachments of developers and roadways and all the pressures of humankind in the UK, just as there are in Australia. But I love it when none of that enters an episode. I feel I can drop my guard and concerns and just enjoy this deep connection with nature.

And I love it when these episodes are long enough to relax into and lose myself and get some distance from my own concerns.

So, many thanks to all the team. I do greatly enjoy the shorter soundscapes too, of course; they play a delightful and different role in my listening life.


Editor Fergus Collins replies:

Jaki, thank you for this extremely kind letter. We’ve been lucky enough to be shortlisted for several podcast awards this year so it is really rewarding to know that they are so appreciated. The solo walks are my favourite, too. You can listen to the Plodcast on Acast, Apple Podcasts, Spotify and all big podcast providers.

THE PRIZE 
This star letter wins the following bundle of beautiful books, worth £52.99. A Year Unfolding: A Beautifully Illustrated Guide To Nature Through the Seasons by Angela Harding (£20); Around the World in 80 Birds by Mike Unwin(£22); Tracking the Highland Tiger byMarianneTaylor(£10.99).


MAKING THE MOST OF THE MAG

My husband and I really look forward to our monthly copy of BBC Countryfile Magazine dropping through our letterbox. However, perhaps my main uses of the magazine are not the normal ones.

During and since lockdown, I have made your delicious elderflower custard creams for the refreshments after our Sunday church services. When we could not have our usual fellowship over a drink and a cake actually in church, I left my custard creams in the porch for the congregation to enjoy on their way home. Now we are back inside the church, they are still popular, especially with our assistant priest and her husband, who are both allergic to eggs.

Also, for our recent World Day of Prayer service, we had to make a display of scenes from the three countries that had organised the service – England, Wales and Northern Ireland. I quickly found some stunning pictures from my copies of the magazine.


REARING ORPHANED DEER

For their first few months, roe deer fawns stay hidden in long grass while their mothers forage nearby

Your article on roe deer (April issue) was especially interesting to me as my family and I lived on an estate in West Sussex for many years and there were many roe there.

We knew a stalker who had considerable experience of them, and he called us one day as a doe had been killed on the road and he had rescued her kid. He knew we kept goats, and the doe’s milk was similar, so we reared the kid on bottled goat’s milk. It was only a few days old, but a strong male; as he got stronger he would follow me and come out to browse in the fields.

I introduced him to our dogs, and he came for walks with us, occasionally bursting into a gallop, but never going far. As he was a buck, we realised we couldn’t keep him, and when he was a few months old, he went to a man who had paddocks and kept rescued deer. We reared two more female orphans, but they were older and not as confident; they went to the same man.

In your article they were called fawns, but I’ve always known them as kids – Ithink only roe are referred to as kids. Also, when they call, it’s more of a squeak than a whistle, but the article was a lovely read.


UNBEARABLE CRUELTY

Reading Lena Belfield’s letter to the editor about shocking cruelty in the dairy industry (May issue) reminded me of why I became a vegan eight years ago. I had been a vegetarian for 20 years before that , without understanding the suffering and cruelty of dairy production.

I wept to see newborn calves being wrenched from their mothers. The distress, grief and suffering of the cows and their babies has never left me. I refused to be a part of such an industry by buying dairy products and have never regretted my decision. The male calves are butchered within days and some of the females are confined to crates to be used eventually in the grinding misery of the dairy industry, where they are so often violently abused, as was shown in the BBC Panorama documentary A Cow’s Life. These scenes of cruelty are by no means the exception.

There are so many plant ‘milks’ available now, which taste delicious, involve no animal cruelty and suffering and are much, much better for the planet and human health. It’s a no-brainer to change from dairy to plant milk, as millions around the planet are doing so.

APOLOGY Last month we omitted to credit Jo Goad at the River Restoration Centre for a photo supplied in the the feature titled ‘Source to Sea’, on walking the length of the Sussex Ouse. therrc.co.uk

POETRY CORNER

Seasons of the New Forest

Winter with its sombre hues, Brings beauty of its own to bear, The duller colours give delight To those who have the will to care.

The blacks and browns and deepest greens Bring solace to an aching mind In ways that, lovely as they are, The other seasons cannot find.

Spring brings the gorse, its myriad flowers Bloom rampant on the open heath:

A sea of vivid yellow fire Hides prickly bushes underneath.

The grass is now an emerald green And blends with bush and cloud and sky To make a beauty so intense That surely, somewhere, God is nigh.

Summer with its long, hot days Has vibrant beauty to impart:

The purple heather blooms once more, When frosty nights of autumn come

They turn the trees and shrubs to flame:

Red berries dangle bounteously and Old Man’s Beard fulfils its name.

A time of harvest, garnering in, Which man and beast alike can share, A beauteous time, a time of peace, This calm before the leaves blow bare.