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CAPITULO III: ARQUITECTURA ORIENTADA A SERVICIOS PARA LA

3.1 Análisis orientado a servicios

The aim of this chapter is twofold: the first aim is to establish the wildlife and landscape contexts in which the everyday life of the reserve unfolds; and the second is to draw attention to the importance of the woodland and wildlife to people’s experience of involvement within that context. Sociological research involving the study of material entities, such as woodland and wildlife as active ‘agents’ of social life, has been limited to date. To bring woodland and wildlife within a sociological gaze, I have looked beyond sociology to concepts formulated by authors from other disciplines. Especially those who address the questions and issues of being-in-the-world such as Despret (2004), Haraway (2008), Ingold (1993), Nettleton (2013), and Whitehead (2004). As the reader will recall, I outlined these authors’ concepts of being-in-the-world in the Literature Review (Chapter Two). These authors are drawn on to question the sociological tradition of separating the social from the natural world.

In this chapter, the material conditions of the reserve are introduced to the reader through staff and volunteers’ perceptions of the reserve’s woodland and wildlife. I discussed the reasons for selecting this group of staff and volunteers as the focus of my study in Chapter Three. The reader will recall that the social actors involved in this study were selected because of their commitment to the

well-being of the reserve, and the exceptional amount of time and effort they contributed towards caring for the woodland and its wildlife.

This practice of ‘care’ distinguishes staff and volunteers from recreational visitors – such as photographers, walkers and runners – who for the most part, although contributing to the landscape by their movement through the woodland, have little other impact on the reserve and its landscape. Recreational visitors may benefit from their engagement with the reserve, but the reserve gains little material benefit from these visitors.

To establish the context in which these social agents move, rather than rely on extensive physical descriptions of the woodland landscape I explore staff and volunteers’ perceptions of the reserve. Although I draw attention to particular social actors and what is meaningful to them, it is important to keep in mind the holistic nature of social actors’ involvement; the meaningful encounters I cite are used to increase the visibility of the material–human interactions that are but a part of being-in the-world.

This chapter is ordered in the following way: the first section focuses on the way in which the woodland affects staff and volunteers’ experience of the reserve, while the second focuses on the contribution of wildlife to the social actors’ experiences.

This section of the chapter is guided by Ingold’s contention that landscape is more than a backdrop to social life as there is a reciprocal relationship between the landscape and its social actors. I use this contention to explore staff and volunteers’ perceptions of the woodland in order to, firstly, demonstrate the contribution of the reserve’s material entities, the fauna and flora, to the everyday life of the reserve, and, secondly, the meaning that these entities have for staff and volunteers.

The vignettes I use in this chapter are drawn from the experience of specific social actors, however, they are also metaphors for the recurring themes of the everyday life of the reserve.

In Ingold’s concept of ‘dwelling’, the role of social agents transcends those of bystanders in the landscape, so that they can be conceived of as ‘dwelling’ in the woodland. In the process:

landscape is constituted as an enduring record of – and testimony to – the lives and works of past generations who have dwelt within it, and in so doing, have left there something of themselves (Ingold, 1993 p.152).

Many miles of non-metalled roads and track ways create a web of access throughout the reserve and are a major feature of the landscape. The widest are known as ‘trenches’ and are defined by earth banks at either side. Each trench can measure up to 150 feet wide. Other roads known as ‘rides’ are narrower, while ‘paths’ are the narrowest and least defined of all. Animal trails are less visible than human access ways: often imperceptible to the unskilled human eye, these paths are used by a few of the staff and volunteers to penetrate the hidden heart of the woodland. George uses animal trails to seek out broadleaf helleborines, Nick to find fungi, and Frank uses them to seek the tranquillity and spirituality he craves, and finds, in the depths of the woodland.

Figure 4.1: The Great Trench

Lower Trench are familiar to all staff and volunteers. Many have an emotional or spiritual attachment to these trenches. The Great Trench is a geographical feature that bisects the woodland from north to south. It is a grassy and often muddy track that varies between 150 feet wide in places, to only 30 in others. All of the staff and volunteers have spent time working in The Great Trench or have used it as a thoroughfare. However, for many it is more than a work place or thoroughfare.

For Ted, The Great Trench has particular symbolic and historic connotations. Ted was a key informant who managed the reserve for eight years. He engaged with the reserve in multiple ways: as an employee of the Trust; a married, family man with young children; a naturalist; a woodland manager; and as a human geographer with an inclination toward sociology. His habitus has been shaped by involvement in a diverse range of cultural fields. For example, he was offered a place to study natural science at Cambridge, at the age of seventeen, but rejected this highly academic route in favour of more practical courses of study at an agricultural college, and at a less elitist university before entering the conservation world as a manager for the Trust.

When interviewed Ted said of The Great Trench:

it has this mediaeval feel – as if Robin Hood could jump out at you – it feels mediaeval if you close your eyes. When I picture the woods I picture a wonderful hugely wide trench with the woods on either side. That’s in my mind how I think of the woods. It has a very ancient feel about it, and it’s sort of mediaeval England trapped in this little bubble.

Feeling a sense of the past in the woodland is important to many of the staff and volunteers. In addition to emerging through the landscape, the past also shows up in the way in which the older mature oak and ash trees are viewed. The trees that escape the anonymity of the woodland to become known as individuals are usually of great age or size for their species. It is the old gnarled oak, the ancient ash coppice stool or the veteran silver birch that are identified as individuals in their own right, with many of the staff and volunteers having a

particular favourite specimen they can locate amongst the other trees of the woodland. Knowing and identifying with particular trees can add to an individual’s cultural capital. Knowledge of such trees and their whereabouts gives status to individuals amongst their peers, as it indicates knowledge of the woodland that only immersion in it, and a deep awareness of trees can provide. Ted’s favourite tree is an ancient gnarled oak that grows in The Great Trench, and George’s favourite grows on the eastern boundary – he believes this to be the largest oak tree in the woods. It is thought that some ash stools are the oldest trees in the reserve, possibly three to four hundred years old and with the bulk and size of a small car. The ancient ash coppice stools captivate many coppicers. The practice of coppicing that produces coppice stools is discussed extensively in Chapter Six, however, in brief stools are the rootstock and lower stems of a tree that remain after most of the tree has been cut during the practice of coppicing.

Figure 4.2: Ancient Oak Tree in The Great Trench

For others, human artefacts such as earth banks and other archaeological features create a sense of the past. Simon explains he finds reassurance in continuity, and derives a sense of this from the reserve's archaeology:

I'm interested in archaeology and history and so on. In one of the meadows there have been regular archaeology digs of the Roman villa. I've volunteered on a couple of occasions and I found that really fascinating. I have actually dug up Roman coins. It really makes you feel that there have been people here before you. It's all part of the way that this place has been making me think that we are only here temporarily and there have been lots of people here before. It puts your life into perspective.

In Ingold’s (1993) conceptualisation of ‘dwelling’, the sedimentation of history in the landscape is a key concept, and here Simon is using history to provide perspective on his life. Many of the staff and volunteers, particularly those who are older, ‘find’ in the reserve a reassuring sense of ‘connection’ with the past. Unlike Ted and Simon, Sid provides a more literal description of The Great Trench. However, he still hints that The Great Trench connects him with the past when he reflects on what the countryside could be like in the absence of intensive agriculture:

it’s quite interesting habitats . . . quite picturesque and obviously there’s a lot more but some areas of Horwood are quite uniform and almost boring. I like it because it's a reminder of what the countryside could be if it wasn't for intensive agriculture. You have trees and scrub, tall grass, short grass, scalloped edge and the scrub that builds up into the woodland edge. I tend to feel that I will find things interesting in there, because of the different habitats . . . it's not as uniform as say a coppiced area. It also reminds me that there is some sort of history to the place. I ask myself questions like why are they [trenches] there? Are they lines of sight for the hunt or why are they there at all? Why is the forest structure the way it is? What is happening now and why? I try and take a step back from the politics of it all because I have a feeling that I'm not going to agree with some of what is being done. It [The Great Trench] is a bit of a microcosm I suppose for Horwood [and] the commons around the woods. I feel more at home there than I have anywhere really.

For Ted, Simon and Sid, the landscape of The Great Trench has specific historical connotations. Although other informants do not express their feelings about The Great Trench with such clarity, when talking of the reserve most refer to The Great Trench and the attraction it holds for them: even when they are perplexed by what it is that attracts them to this specific grassy track through the woodland.

The meanings that staff and volunteers find in their involvement in the landscape of the reserve are multifaceted: some prioritise the significance of the trenches, ancient trees and archaeology; others relate more closely to the different structures of the reserve’s woodland. Management of the reserve through coppicing has resulted in a landscape that ranges from the highly controlled, an almost orchard-like landscape of young coppiced coupes to ‘derelict coupes’ that have not been coppiced in living memory. Staff and volunteers often show a preference for these derelict coupes because of their sense of ‘wildness’, naturalness and lack of human intervention. I attribute my personal preference for young coppiced woodland to the horticultural cultural field in which I have spent my working life. In this cultural field, ‘power’ is demonstrated through controlling plants and ‘wildness’ in plants and crops under production is undesirable. Jack has a preference for derelict coppices, which he refers to as ‘high forest’, and in which he finds a particular atmosphere; he commented, ‘It's the feeling of being more ancient I suppose.’ Another area of the reserve’s woodland that is commonly referred to as a favourite place by staff and volunteers is Star Wood. It is favoured for its wildness, remoteness and lack of human presence and control. It also has the most prolific display of bluebells in the reserve’s woodland (see Figure 8.1). If the trenches, earth banks and trees are seen as the bones of the woodland, it is the non-woody and, particularly, the flowering plants and wildlife that give character to the body of the woodland. Although ephemeral in their flowering – and without the physical permanence of ancient oaks, earth banks and trenches – the flowering plants play a central part in the everyday life of the reserve. Their importance to staff and volunteers is demonstrated in the following

comments made by Jack, ‘We do like Star Wood . . . it's the best wood for bluebells . . . very few people go there and it has a charm about it which we like.’ Sturgeon Wood’s charm involves its status as a derelict coppice, its carpet of bluebells, and few people, all of which contribute to this wood being a favourite of Jack. Phil commented that . . . ‘working in an environment which has seas of bluebells . . . just mellows me out – there are only two places that mellow me out, a wood or a scrapyard.’ Whereas Phil links woodland and scrapyards to his attraction of the area, more conventionally, Erica linked the bluebells with spring and beauty when she commented, ‘the bluebells are amazing in the spring. They have this magic about them . . . the whole thing is beautiful’.

Ted draws a poetic picture of wildflowers, birdsong and scent in his following comments:

it’s the way you get the bluebells and wood anemone, purple orchids, the wood sorrel, the wood spurge and the celandine, and of course everything is together under the birdsong. With the scent it’s a really heady atmosphere. That’s how I think about it.

Ted emphasises the complexity of the sensory experiences involved, as social actors engage with the woodland and wildlife of the reserve and participate in its everyday life.