Entering the jungle, drizzle turns to rain. It’s muggy too, and within minutes I can feel my forehead prickling with sweat. Soon I’m soaked inside and out, and bothered by flies. Also, because of the dense foliage, I can barely see where I’m going. The ground’s uneven and every few paces I stumble a little. Stopping for breath, I hunker down and, through the stems, finally see my quarry: a spiral of white plastic wrapped around what I hope will prove to be a living tree, confirmed when I spot vibrant leaves bursting out of the tube’s crown.
Now I can get to work. Gripping the hilt of my long, narrow blade, I start slashing furiously around the sapling until my enemy lies on the ground in a wide circle of devastation. Then I plunge back into the bracken to look for the next one.
If there’s a list of plants we once valued but now despise, bracken is on it. In feudal times, the right to cut bracken was a valuable privilege. It provided bedding for animals, was used in thatch and could be burned to create potash to fertilise crops and, mixed with tallow, to manufacture soap. Now it’s a scourge, at least as far as graziers are concerned. Toxic to sheep, its relentless spread is a threat to pasture, especially as the herbicide for bracken, called Asulam, is now considered a health risk and banned in many places.
Bracken, though, still has much to offer. Its presence can often indicate where woodland once grew. That’s likely the case where I’m standing, on the edge of a deep, steep-sided, bracken-choked clough running off the northern fringe of the moor. Lower down, there are mature trees thriving, so why not here? To that end, the landowner has planted a mix of hawthorn and oak, rowan and juniper. If they can grow tall enough, they’ll shade out the bracken, but right now the bracken’s winning. So I go to work again with my trusty blade to let the light back in.
• Under the Changing Skies: The Best of the Guardian’s Country Diary, 2018-2024 is published by Guardian Faber; order at guardianbookshop.com and get a 15% discount
