I had one of those interestingly wayward meeting last week (zooming, of course). \u00a0I say wayward only in the sense that I found myself talking about unexpected things. \u00a0The best sort of meetings.<\/p>\n
The conversation turned, unexpectedly and unwontedly, to the political nature of the countryside \/ the natural world \/ nature. \u00a0Provoked, I suddenly heard myself saying: \"When I turn left outside my house and into the lane I'm walking into the Common Agricutural Policy\". \u00a0Whilst I'd never thought this before, it is, of course, absolutely the case. \u00a0Just as the fact that there are fields down the lane because they are protected against housing or industrial development by government and local planning policies. \u00a0What the village farmer can do is influenced by such policies, and what I can do (say walking on the land), is also influenced by him. \u00a0It's also fair to say that land use still reflects the 19th Century Inclosure Acts. \u00a0Noting this gives me an excuse to quote some John Clare, the most unromantic of the Romantic Poets. \u00a0This is an extract from\u00a0The Mores<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n \"Far spread the moorey ground a level scene \u00a0\/<\/strong> \u00a0Bespread with rush and one eternal green<\/p>\n That never felt the rage of blundering plough \u00a0\/<\/strong> \u00a0Though centurys wreathed spring's blossoms on its brow<\/p>\n Still meeting plains that stretched them far away \u00a0\/<\/strong> \u00a0In uncheckt shadows of green brown, and grey<\/p>\n Unbounded freedom ruled the wandering scene \u00a0\/<\/strong> \u00a0Nor fence of ownership crept in between<\/p>\n To hide the prospect of the following eye \u00a0\/ \u00a0Its only bondage was the circling sky<\/p>\n \u2026<\/p>\n These paths are stopt \u2013 the rude philistine's thrall \u00a0\/<\/strong> \u00a0Is laid upon them and destroyed them all<\/p>\n Each little tyrant with his little sign \u00a0\/<\/strong> \u00a0Shows where man claims earth glows no more divine<\/p>\n But paths to freedom and to childhood dear \u00a0\/<\/strong> \u00a0A board sticks up to notice 'no road here'<\/p>\n And on the tree with ivy overhung \u00a0\/<\/strong> \u00a0The hated sign by vulgar taste is hung<\/p>\n As tho' the very birds should learn to know \u00a0\/<\/strong> \u00a0When they go there they must no further go<\/p>\n Thus, with the poor, scared freedom bade goodbye \u00a0\/<\/strong> \u00a0And much they feel it in the smothered sigh<\/p>\n And birds and trees and flowers without a name \u00a0\/<\/strong> \u00a0All sighed when lawless law's enclosure came<\/p>\n