6. Letting the Grass Grow; natural or neglect?
| Theme: | ECOLOGY NETWORKS |
|---|---|
| Current Topic: | Nature Recovery Plan |
| Thread Title: | Letting the Grass Grow: Natural or Neglect? |
| Thread Number: | 6 of 7 |
| Learning Focus: | Discover how Sidmouth balances Regency beauty with nature recovery. Learn about the "Cues to Care," chemical-free weeding, and the "Green and Wild" tourism shift. |
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In Sidmouth, the aesthetic friction is palpable. On one hand, there is the town’s storied Regency soul, a vision of "Chelsea Flower Show" perfection that has long served as the backdrop for coach tours and seaside postcards. On the other, there is the quiet, urgent hum of a landscape being recruited for ecological duty. The tension between these two worlds—the manicured and the functional—is the central challenge of modern sustainable urbanism. Can a town remain a pristine historical artifact while evolving into a high-performance ecological network?
The answer, it seems, lies in a sophisticated "middle way" that suggests nature recovery isn't about the abandonment of order, but rather a more intelligent, strategic form of curation.
The Psychology of the Mown Margin
Public resistance to "wilding" is rarely a rejection of nature itself; it is a rejection of perceived neglect. In the architectural vernacular of public spaces, a long, tangled verge can look like a failure of the municipal budget. To counter this, Sidmouth has embraced the "Cues to Care" philosophy—visual signals that communicate intentionality to the sceptical eye.
By maintaining a crisp, one-meter mown strip along the edge of taller "wild" verges, the council effectively "frames" the messiness. This border acts as a psychological handshake with the visitor, signalling that the long grass is a choice, not a lapse. In The Byes, wide, neatly cut paths through meadow sections perform the same trick, transforming a potential "wasteland" into a curated parkland. When the landscape is framed, the "untidiness" is no longer a grievance—it is a feature.
A Geography of Intentionality
To navigate the "neat and tidy" conflict, Sidmouth utilises a Management Spectrum that zones the town’s landscape based on its social and ecological utility. It is a deliberate move away from the binary of "mown" versus "unmown."
At the "Showstopper" sites—Blackmore Gardens and the front of Connaught Gardens—the Regency heart beats as strongly as ever. These areas remain strictly formal, satisfying the floral expectations of traditional tourism. However, as one moves toward the periphery, the hand of the gardener becomes lighter. Road verges on the town’s outskirts, such as Dunscombe Lane, are managed as "wildlife highways," left long to connect the coastal cliffs to the hinterland.
This strategy is underscored by a shift in communication. Bureaucratic, wordy signage is being replaced by iconic markers featuring bees and butterflies, bearing the phrase "Nature at Work." The goal is to reframe the visitor’s perception: if they understand that the "scruffy" grass is a vital nursery for the rare Cirl Bunting they spotted on the cliffs, the lack of a lawnmower becomes a point of civic pride.
"Nature in Sidmouth isn't being 'left to go to seed.' It’s being 'curated.' By keeping our formal gardens pristine but letting our verges breathe, we’re proving that a Regency town can be both a beautiful postcard and a living, breathing ecological network."
The Manual Labour of the Chemical-Free Street
In 2022, Sidmouth took the bold step of banning glyphosate, the standard chemical weapon in the war against pavement weeds. Transitioning away from the "chemical clean" is not a lazy choice; in fact, it is significantly harder work. Without systemic weedkillers, the "Regency heart" requires a more tactile form of maintenance.
The council has pivoted to a combination of manual weeding, hot foam, and vinegar treatments. This labour-intensive approach is a necessary trade-off. By keeping the streets free of toxins, the town ensures that the pollinators travelling between "Core Areas" aren't poisoned by the very transit routes they rely on. It is an acknowledgement that a truly "clean" town is one that supports life, even in the cracks of the sidewalk.
The Biological Premium of the "Scruffy" Hedge
For decades, the "neatly flailed" square-cut hedge was the gold standard of rural maintenance. Ecologically, however, these are deserts. Sidmouth’s strategy highlights a fundamental truth: a scruffy hedge is a "super-habitat."
Species like the Brown Hairstreak butterfly and the Cirl Bunting depend on the structural diversity of older growth. If a hedge is flailed every year, it never produces the flowers or berries essential for survival. By shifting to a two-to-three-year cutting cycle or employing the traditional craft of Devon "hedge laying," local land managers are creating what ecologists call a "winter pantry." That overgrown hedge isn't a sign of a lazy farmer; it is a fully stocked larder for the local bird population, maintained with rigorous, long-term foresight.
The Managed Web vs. the Wild Abandon
It is vital to distinguish Sidmouth’s approach from "rewilding," a term that often implies a total surrender to natural processes. Instead, the town is building an "Ecological Network"—a strategic, mapped-out infrastructure defined by the mantra: More, Bigger, Better, Joined.
Unlike rewilding, this network requires active, ongoing management. It looks like grazing cattle on the Bulverton slopes to maintain specific grass heights, or selective thinning in Combe Head Wood to allow light to reach the forest floor. It is not "letting go"; it is a deliberate plan to ensure nature can move safely through a working, managed landscape.
Nature as an Insurance Policy
The narrative that nature recovery threatens food security is increasingly viewed as a false dichotomy. Biodiversity is not the enemy of production; it is the insurance policy. At the National Trust’s South Combe Farm, "nature-friendly farming" demonstrates that high-quality food and ecological health are inextricably linked. By fostering natural predators like ladybirds and beetles, farmers can reduce reliance on expensive chemical pesticides, bolstering the soil health that future harvests depend on.
This biological health is also becoming a market differentiator. The East Devon Tourism Strategy (2025-2030) is pivoting toward "Green & Wild" destinations. Modern travellers are increasingly deterred by sterile, over-manicured landscapes. By preserving Peregrine Falcons on the cliffs and Otters in the Sid, the town gains a competitive advantage over "plastic" resorts. Nature, in this context, is the ultimate premium offer.
The Power of the Stepping Stone
The most resilient ecological network is only as strong as its weakest link. For a species like the Greater Horseshoe Bat, a row of sterile, paved-over urban gardens is a "dead zone" that can break the connectivity of the entire landscape.
The "Nature Network" starts at the back door. Individual actions—a hedgehog hole in a garden fence, a native shrub in a planter—transform private spaces into "stepping stones." These small patches of urban green extend the conservation work of massive estates like the Clinton Devon Estates or the National Trust into the very centre of town.
The Future of the Living Postcard
Sidmouth is redefining the coastal idyll. It is proving that we do not have to choose between heritage and the future, or between a sandwich and a songbird. By strategically integrating wildness into the fabric of the town, Sidmouth is creating a landscape that does more than just look good in a photograph—it breathes.
As we rethink our shared public spaces, we are forced to ask: Are we ready to trade the shallow comfort of plastic perfection for a town that is truly, vibrantly alive?
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