A living larder beside the path

By early June, the hawthorn has lost its froth of white blossom and the hedgerow has settled into its summer role: a larder, a nursery and a motorway combined. In Britain, hedgerows stretch for hundreds of thousands of kilometres, and nearly every one of them is working hard. The leaves of blackthorn, hazel and field maple are fattening in the sun, cow parsley is throwing up its white umbels along the verge, and bramble is already pushing out new canes. For a walker, this is the richest few weeks of the year. For wildlife, it is a matter of survival.

What to look for as you walk

Take a slow mile rather than a fast three. A hedgerow rewards close attention, especially if you learn a handful of common species.

• Hawthorn — deeply lobed leaves, clusters of small green berries forming where blossom was. Its thorny tangle is the backbone of most British hedges.
• Blackthorn — sloe berries swell later, but in early summer look for its darker, more oval leaves and shoots. It usually flowers before hawthorn, so its fruit comes first.
• Hazel — soft, round leaves with a pointed tip. Look for neat, circular holes in the nuts later in summer: the work of dormice or squirrels.
• Field maple — small, five-lobed leaves, often tinged red at the edges. It is a sign of older, species-rich hedges.
• Dog rose — arching stems with hooked thorns and pink or white flowers. Its hips will feed birds well into winter.

Also watch for the froth of cow parsley, the pink of red campion, and the first foxgloves on banks. These are not just pretty; they are nectar stations for bees, hoverflies and butterflies.

The creatures that depend on it

A good hedge is not a single line of bushes but a three-dimensional world. At the base, dead leaves and tussocky grass shelter beetles, frogs and shrews. In the middle, dense twigs give nesting birds a fortress. At the top, taller shrubs and standards — oaks, ash or crab apple — offer song posts and lookouts.

The dormouse is the most famous hedgerow specialist. It rarely crosses open ground, so it travels from wood to wood along connected hedges, feeding on hazelnuts, blackberries and honeysuckle flowers. The whitethroat arrives from Africa in late April and nests low in bramble and nettle patches, its scratchy song delivered from a spray of hawthorn. Yellowhammers use hedgerow tops as singing posts, their “little bit of bread and no cheese” a classic sound of arable country. At dusk, pipistrelle bats commute along hedgerow corridors, hoovering up midges and moths. Hedgehogs, bank voles, slow worms and countless insects all use the same linear shelter.

How to walk a hedge without harming it

Early summer is peak nesting time, so give the hedge some room. Walk on the field side where possible, leaving the verge uncrushed. Keep dogs on a short lead near dense thickets, and never push through gaps or lift netting to look inside. If you find a nest, back away quietly and do not return. The parents will abandon eggs or chicks if they feel watched.

Use gates and stiles rather than making your own path. Carry binoculars and a hand lens; you will see far more by standing still for five minutes than by tramping past. Listen for the scolding “chak” of a blackbird, the thin “seep” of a bullfinch, or the rustle of a bank vole in the leaf litter. Dawn is best for birdsong, but late afternoon brings out bumblebees and day-flying moths.

Reading the history in the hedge

Hedgerows are archives. A hedge with many woody species — hawthorn, blackthorn, hazel, field maple, dogwood, spindle, wild service — is likely to be ancient, perhaps a remnant of a medieval wood or a parish boundary. A rough rule of thumb, known as Hooper’s rule, suggests that the number of woody species in a 30-yard stretch may approximate the hedge’s age in centuries. It is not exact, but it points you in the right direction.

Look for old layering: trunks that have been cut part-way and bent over to form a living fence. Look for a bank or ditch alongside the hedge, often a sign of an old boundary. In spring, dog’s mercury, bluebell and wood anemone on a bank can hint at ancient woodland nearby, with the hedge acting as a last refuge.

Small acts that keep hedges alive

If you manage a hedge, cut it in late winter rather than autumn, and only every two or three years if you can. Trim in rotation, leaving one section tall and fruiting each year. Leave a rough grass margin at the base, and never spray the verge. Plant native species — hawthorn, hazel, field maple, dog rose — and let bramble and ivy grow in patches. These scruffy corners are the engine rooms of rural life.

Even without land, you can help. Record what you see on a local wildlife recording scheme, join a hedgerow survey, or simply tell others what lives in the hedge beside your favourite footpath. The more we notice, the more likely these living boundaries will be protected. Early summer is the perfect time to start.