How the rewilding of eight acres of Norfolk marshland inspired a family and brought nature even closer to home.
When writer Simon Barnes heard a Cetti's warbler sing out as he turned up to look at a house for sale, he knew immediately that he had found his new home. The fact that his garden backed onto an area of marshy land only increased the possibilities, but there was always the fear that it might end up in the wrong hands and be lost to development or intensive farming. His wife saw through the delicate negotiations for the purchase. Once they'd bought it, they began to manage it as a conservation area, working with the Wildlife Trust to ensure it became as appealing as possible to all species. For their son Eddie, who has Down's syndrome, it became a place of calm and inspiration.
In Wildness and Wet, we see how nature can always bring surprises, and share in the triumphs as new animals - Chinese water deer, otters and hedgehogs - arrive, and watch as the number of species of bird tops 100 and keeps on growing. As the seasons go by, there are moments of triumph when not one but two marsh harrier families use the marsh as a hunting ground, but also disappointments as chemical run-off from neighbouring farmland creates a nettles monoculture in newly turned earth.
For anyone who enjoyed books such as Meadowland, or the writing of Stephen Moss, Roger Deakin or Adam Nicolson, this is a vivid and beautifully written account of the wonders that can sometimes be found on our doorsteps, and how nature can transform us all.
This book is written by the well known journalist Simon Barnes – for many years the leading sportswriter for the most famous (albeit rather a shadow of its former self) UK newspaper “The Times”, a paper for which he also wrote a wildlife column – a column which possibly (alongside it seems his salary levels) cost him his role in a round of redundancies after his consistent criticism of grouse shooting estates for their killing (and near extinction) of the Hen Harrier.
In 2012 just before probably the peak of his career (at the London Olympics) Barnes and his family moved from Suffolk to the South East of Norfolk (to be honest the one corner of my home country I do not know so well) and bought around 5 acres of marshland (subsequently expanded to 8) on the Southern edge of the Broads which he has effectively developed into something of a conservation area (working closely with the local community and various wildlife organisations).
The book is effectively a year-long diary – proceeding over the year roughly from September-September and with chapters that draw on the changing weather, light patterns and visitors to (or inhabitants of) the marsh in chapters which are broadly thematic.
The writing is refreshingly gentle – the author clearly has strong views on the importance of nature but the book is a long way from polemical or preachy but far more encouraging and quietly persuasive. He is also open to and tolerant of different views: although his own approach to conservation on the marsh (perhaps best described as a kind of gently guided laissez-faire) is some way from either the re-wilding of say Isabelle Tree in Sussex, the conservation-sensitive but still intense cultivation of the Holkham Estate (which dominates the magnificent North Norfolk coast – incidentally Jake Fiennes also featured in the novel is now the conservation manager for that estate) or the tourist-sensitive management of the waterways of the Broads (in the East of the county) the author is friends with them all and gives them all positive comments in the book. Even with the shooting on the fields which border his marsh, although the author makes it clear that he hates the noise and destruction (and does not understand the motivations of mass killing as sport) he simply comforts his own horses while it happens and even allows gun dogs onto the marsh to retrieve shot birds.
The overall effect is simply to make the reader want to enjoy more of the world around them.
A couple of false notes:
For reasons known only to himself the author inserts random tweets into the text which does not just not assist the main text but actually detracts from it
Surprisingly given his background the author I feel uses a rather strained analogy with sport. He says that as a journalist he had to learn that sportsmen were not performing for his entertainment but to win – and the same is true of nature which is surviving for its own sake. I say this is strained for two reasons: firstly professional sport has always I think been about entertainment and now more than ever; secondly I feel that at times the book strays (like too much nature writing and activity) too far into nature being for man’s sake (for example an obsession with “spotting” and “counting” and naming, and a preference for “performative” animals or birds).
But what really makes this book excellent is Barnes family – and in particular his youngest son – Eddie who has Down’s Syndrome. Through his eyes, reflected gently by his father, we see nature in all its wonder and also see the importance of simply slowing down, taking it in, living for the moment, wanting to learn and then learn again. We see through this how Eddie’s wonderful personality and condition can be so enriching for the lives of others. We also at times see how the way in which other’s react to Eddie says so much about them (although in keeping with the gentle nature of the book we largely see this in a positive way only – how good reactions show good character). I was reminded here of Jesse Ball’s fabulous “Census”.
Re-read March 2023 - this is still a book of pleasure, reading about someone dedicated to helping wildlife, who is vehemently anti-hunting and shooting and who is kind to animals. A 5 star read for always.
Original review: I loved this book!
Let me just start by saying that big respect goes to Simon Barnes for standing up against the gentry and landowners who practise pheasant shoots year in, year out. Barnes heavily criticised this practise when he worked for a major national newspaper and was subsequently "let go", stating afterwards, "clearly I've upset a few people"!!! Go on son!
This book covers the journey of his obvious joy and pleasure in purchasing and then being able to minimally manage a few acres of marshland next to his home. Barnes points out how the simple things matter, the sky, the sounds, the wildlife and the companionship of his son.
There is nothing overly complicated to get your head around here, just wholesome immersion in nature surrounded by the ones you love. Beautiful writing.
A few gems that stood out for me:-
"Here's one of the sad things about life. If you choose to live close to wildlife, you will find yourself in close proximity to people who want to kill as much of it as possible. Across the river the wildfowlers know neither mercy nor restraint. Such is their right. The sound of gunfire ushers in October. The season of death is upon us."
"......Sometimes I think a miracle could take place in our hip-pocket and all we would notice would be an itch in the arse." (!!!!!!! 🤣)
"We suffer- all of us, even the best observers, even the most poetic souls- from blindness to the commonplace. The miraculous nature of everyday life is concealed from us. We live surrounded by miracles, but because we see them so often we are sometimes incapable of seeing them at all."
"Untidiness is life. Tidiness is death."
"A living house is a tribute to the life that goes on inside it: therefore it's seldom seriously tidy."
"There are moments of perfection: complete and unabashed. They come rarely and fleetingly, but when they do they often have that weird stretchy quality that destroys time as an objective quantity and makes it a purely personal affair.........."
When Simon Barnes, sports journalist and wildlife columnist viewed a house in Norfolk two things totally swung it for him, the fact it had a marsh connected to it and the song of a Cetti's Warbler. This book contains the nature ramblings as the land is explored by Simon along with his Son Eddie. Eddie has Down Syndrome and really connects with nature, identifying birds and wildlife with sometimes tiny prompts and constantly either plagues his Dad with questions or is happy to sit in complete stillness and take in the wild sounds. Simon explains how the animals too connect with Eddie especially the horses they keep that he has a knack with easing, calming and training.These were my favourite parts of the book, the time they spent together on the Marsh drinking beer and apple juice and eating marmalade cake even if it was on Eddie's insistence in the rain much to Simons grumblings!ha!. I loved the energy that Eddie seemed to have, always happy to help with the horses and jobs and then go to college for his 'farming days'. At the end of the book is a list of the birds and plants on the marsh, so many!. A very enjoyable read picked for my nature inspired bookclub I am looking forward to discussing it with members.
Unsure whether to buy a home in Norfolk, what swung it for him was the song from a Cetti’s Warbler that he heard as he stood outside the front door. Outside the back door was a patch of marshland that they wanted to make a conservation area and his wife’s careful negotiations meant that they had a home and patch of land that would not be lost to development.
They had an opportunity to buy the land from their next-door neighbour, Barry and worked with the Norfolk Wildlife Trust to ensure that it became appealing to all manner of species. He isn’t really rewilding it, just letting it get on with life and death in all its rich forms and taking time to enjoy it. For their youngest son Eddie who has Down’s syndrome, it became a place of calm, a place where he could ask any question about what he saw around him when they walked out to their bench.
Set loosely over a year, this is a book that acknowledges time passing, and yet the writing makes it feel timeless. There are moments of sheer delight, when he looks out of the window and sees a marsh harrier passing over or the hare that makes the place his home. There are times he gets furious too, not at what he has but at the way we are discarding parts of the natural world without a care for out interdependent futures. There were some great moments too, like when he opens the moth trap, a birthday gift from his wife, both him and Eddie are hooked
What you see is great, but the greater thing is being out there. Not what you look at but what you’re part of. And that is the greatest gift the marsh brings to us. We’re not the audience, we’re participants.
I thought this was really good. I liked that whilst there was participation from his family in the book, they did not overpower the narrative, the marsh and all the life that inhabits it or passes over is the focus. The other participant in the book is his son Eddie and the way that he reacts to the natural world. If you are looking for personal angst in amongst nature, then this is not the book to find it in, rather this is a more mediative book, celebrating the tiny things that happen each and every day as he looks out the window, or sits on the bench with Eddie, drinking apple juice and beer enjoying the evening sun. It is a book to savour and enjoy.
This is a lovely mixture of nature notes, thoughts on conservation and observations on family life. Simon Barnes bought a house because it had 8 acres of marshland attached to it. He moved there with his wife and family. One of his children (this is important for the book) has Downs Syndrome. This book is a sort of diary of their life through a year of living by the marsh.
If you are a nature lover (I am), you will enjoy all the observations Barnes makes. You will celebrate with him as new species move onto the marsh because he is leaving it alone and letting nature do its thing. You will recognise the cycle of seasons as birds arrive and leave and as residents produce new generations and they begin to inhabit the area. What Barnes describes is what those of us who take an interest in nature want to hear about: nature at work being observed rather than managed. (Not 100% true: some management is required, but the principle remains).
At various points in his diary, Barnes takes the opportunity to talk about conservation. Sometimes, it is local and describes work he does to make his marshland more like it was before people got involved with it. Sometimes, because his work takes him to other places, it is more global.
And then, in the mix with all the nature stuff, there’s family life. Eddie (already mentioned above) is a delight and the descriptions of father-son trips out onto the marsh are highlights in the book.
I found the first few chapters a bit unsettling because the writing style is very chatty and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. But I settled into it.
An excellent read for anyone with an interest in nature and/or conservation. And with a lovely human touch.
Got about half through this & decided there are better more informative & more lyrical natural history type books waiting to be read. It’s not bad, but just rather average. If there was nothing else to read I’d read it.
Mostly uneventful and dull ramblings, sometimes nice writings, but I don't really like Barnes' writing style and the odd "Tweets" throughout were rather cringey, think "white male boomer" vibe. Can't hold a candle to, say, John Lewis-Stempel or Roger Deakin, but I did think the bits about/with his son Eddie. And he hates hunting and got fired for saying the truth, and I respect that a lot.
A decent enough book, week written and interesting. Not a page turner but it's not really that kind of book, but pleasant enough to read if you're interested in wildlife etc.
Although this feels like a rather humble book with fairly local scope for the most part, a lot of interesting thoughts sprung up and, overall, I just love the sense of wonder even at the (seemingly) very common parts of nature. It made me want to get an allotment, though I suppose I’ll see if I can get any success in my tiny garden first.. This is the second book I’ve read from Simon Barnes and I quite enjoy his writing.
I should have made notes as I read but I was listening on audiobook and that makes note-taking a little more awkward.
A pleasant audiobook. I must admit I got lost amid the very many bird names with which I’m not familiar (city girl here), but I didn’t pick it up for its encyclopaedic nature but rather for its promise of giving a glimpse of living surrounded by nature. Promised and delivered. A perfect book for a chill start of the year.
So often it seems there's little we can do to shift the biodiversity needle into an upward, improving direction. We're reminded on a daily basis of yet another species added to the 'vulnerable' category, let alone those declared 'extinct'. In the face of the overwhelming evidence of this sixth extinction process, combined with the climate change realities and predictions, it's uplifting to read a book about one family finding daily joys in the gift of nature "carrying on."
Simon Barnes' book, On the Marsh, takes the reader to his property in Norfolk. He and his partner chose to purchase the property because of its nature-living: effectively, it was a piece of land that could simply be allowed to carry-on without dramatic intervention, either in the form of human-made housing development or in a more effort-full, planned re-wilding project. The extent of their property was enlarged when their neighbour chose to sell his property and agreed to sell his acres of marshland to enable the Barnes' to bring the full marsh together. Together with the Norfolk Wildlife Trust they then worked to ensure the marsh was returned to having conservation values.
The book, though, doesn't focus on the 'making' of a revitalised wild place. Rather, it provides a reminder that often it's what we don't do that's important - leaving nature to get on with it. And, yes, slowing the decline in biodiversity - or "holding the line" - may very well be a collection of landholders and stewards doing just that, enabling land to be, ecosystems to strengthen, habitat to become a pocket of reprieve and opportunity for species otherwise pressured by habitat loss, climate disruption and biodiversity decline. Simon Barnes notes that this approach isn't "the solution", but honestly there is no singular solution. Indeed, we don't really know which actions will be the critical ones. Which combination will be crucial to a species' health and stability. Sure, we can guess; we can add educated guesses and scientific knowledge; and, where longterm, local knowledge still stands, we can utilise this, too, to better inform our actions. Perhaps, though, it's also about serendipity and positive "tipping points" - points in time and landscape connected to create time or, as some say, "buy time." It may be that one action enabled the smallest butterfly flutter that becomes "just enough" at "just the right time."
And, thus, there is a need to also enjoy and revel in the now - the seasons of survival, replenishment, satisfaction and migration. Neglecting the wonder of today won't help with the future; indeed, it's likely to diminish it. Living in the now, getting to know a place well in its own way, on its own terms is not a minor connection. It is what lifetimes become: the passing of time, keeping rhythm, providing structure and meaning gifted through regular visits by species, making their own homes, their own rhythms. Indeed, knowing individuals within a species becomes possible in such settings, something Simon Barnes reflects upon throughout the book.
This insight and the value of "being present" is also evident in the relationship Simon has with his son, Eddie. Eddie makes time change - he conjures it, so his father sees the 'now', can be present and share knowledge, jokes, walks, beer & apple juice and, most importantly, the bond of parent and child. It's a beautiful connectedness filled with good stories, nature experiences and some pretty good poetry. Eddie's journey over the course of the year is both ordinary and revelatory. In essence, this is all of our lives, if we can but see it. Simon's ability to connect with his son is special, precisely because Eddie's worldview grounds Simon and us in the connection between 'routine' and 'extraordinary.'
For some, the unique element in this book is that Simon features his son, noting Eddie's Down's Syndrome. And, yes, based on Simon's vignettes and reflections on how others often see people with Down's Syndrome, Eddie is different. Yet, each of us is different; it's what those differences bring to the richness of a family, a community and, ultimately, an ecosystem. This is actually the wonder of the book - Eddie is different, but not because of his Down's Syndrome. He's different because he connects and readily sees and lives in the here-and-now. It's such a privilege to have Simon and Eddie share their time and love with us, the reader.
Thank you, Simon Barnes, for this book, this tale of a family working hard, living the every day and appreciating the ordinary, so we can all see this - this daily life and love - is what's extra-ordinary. This saves our spirit and, who knows, may be the "vital thread" that moves that biodiversity needle a notch towards recovery.
This is a glorious book and only the availability of a Joseph soundtrack would have made it perfect. I've read a good many books of this genre now but I had a hunch that not only would it be a fine thing to read whilst on the Norfolk Broads but that Barnes would add something fresh. The something fresh is Edmund Barnes, younger brother of Joseph and son of Simon and Cindy, his talents, his hard won skills. Simon and Eddie walk out to enjoy the marsh often, with remarkable picnics (I can't decide whether I am revolted or inspired by Eddie's baked beans in a jar), Simon identifies in his wonderful Bad Birdwatcher way and Eddie contemplates.
So it is about nature and, to some extent, all that trendy rewilding stuff but it is also about keeping horses, rubbing along in the community (including those who shoot), about parenting a young man with a disability. There are some cracking sentences which really hit home - about what was said about Eddie at his special school 'graduation' and the attitudes of some of his teachers, the small mention of thinking about what will happen to Eddie next year and the year after that. Eddie's own perceptions of nature work beautifully next to his father's: the nature diaries and poetry transcribed for him by his mother, whose illustrations also enhance the book (and whose organisational skills make the marsh possible)
This book is beautifully designed - I loved the cover, the map and the drawings at the start of each chapter. Overall, I enjoyed Barnes' writing style, but I felt the book would have benefited from stricter editing - there is a lot of repetition and I found the writing style quite disjoined, especially the way in which it was interrupted by random tweets - what was that all about?
One thing that really bugged me - at one point, Barnes casually refers to people with autism or Down's syndrome as 'less fortunate' and 'the people who have the problems'. He really should know better. Ironically, he complains several times in the book about the way in which other people belittle or patronise those with Down's syndrome, yet here he is doing exactly the same. I know many young people with Down's Syndrom or autism who would be deeply upset to be described as 'less fortunate' or 'having a problem'. I really hope if they produce another edition of this book that he will take these comments out.
Apart from this issue, I enjoyed the book, but it won't be one I will keep - it's a pleasant read, but doesn't have that standout quality to lift it above the crowd of nature diaries that are available right now.
On the Marsh is part journal, part philosophy essay, and part comedy play. Simon Barnes, author of the Bad Birdwatcher book series walks us through a year on a piece of marshland he manages in Norfolk. But he doesn’t do it alone - we are often accompanied by his son Eddie, and our journey is just as often better for it.
Eddie has Downs Syndrome, and Simon has a very human and personal view on how we connect and interact with nature. The combination undeniably gets you “in the feels” as they share their triumphs together, often over a cup of tea and a jar of baked beans as they watch the wildlife that visits the marsh through the seasons, or sets up home there permanently.
Serious points are smoothed out with good humour, somehow softening their blow yet enabling them to leave their mark for longer in your thoughts. There’s a lot of nature politics hidden in a short stroll and some aimless thoughts.
Ultimately, the most reassuring thing this book tells us is that it’s okay to get things wrong. We don’t have to do everything on our conservation to do list. But, if we dream, if we work towards it, there’s a good chance nature might meet us in the middle.
I partly read and partly listened to 'On The Marsh' on Audible. Although it doesn't deal with any aspect of nature in depth, there are many interesting snippets, particularly about birds. I learned a lot from these, but ultimately this is a diary and a book about relationship with the land; for that reason, alone it is precious. I love that Simon Barnes writes of the marsh as though it is a being on its own terms, which of course it is, and that he and his family are little more than helpful guests. I love that he writes in a way that de-centres humanity, making the point that "as we live with less and less non-human life in our lives, so our lives become poorer...it impoverishes us: it makes us less human", and I love too his acknowledgement that loving the wild will make us unbearably sad but also more determined to do the little bit that we can to make it better. 'On The Marsh' is threaded through with the fragility of this Earth, which makes it deeply poignant, but it is never depressing, mainly because of the quiet, gentle presence of Eddie, Simon Barnes' son who has Down's Syndrome. Ultimately the greatest wisdom comes from him;
"If you want to learn more about the wild world, don't take a field guide, take Eddie. For a start, you might not be out there at all without Eddie's insistence. The combination of his curiosity, his frequent unexpected ways of understanding what we find, and his gift for contemplation are all fine ways of approaching nature. What you see is great, but the greater thing is being out there. Not what you look at but what you're part of."
Thank you, Eddie. I love my life too. And that is our power.
This was such a lovely listen. One of those books that transports you away and helps you look at the wonders of nature through the eyes of someone with a deep passion for wildlife and the conservation of his local area.
The author lives by a marsh, so when a larger plot of marsh was available to buy he jumped at the chance and this book is an ode to the natural world, and how he and his family have worked to keep this area as wild as possible for the benefit of the local wildlife, and their own enjoyment.
Their son has down's syndrome so he also shares his experiences of how that changes his outlook and how his son thrives with the connection of the birds and animals surrounding them and it was really touching to see his compassion for the surrounding wildlife.
The author explores the local sights and sounds that he and his family are lucky to see and hear, along with comments on how many humans are seemingly hellbent on the destruction of these natural areas and the devastating consequences that these have on the wildlife.
It's such a gentle and pleasant book, that helps to share the pleasure in spotting the little things that go on around you and I thoroughly enjoyed the whole relaxing and immersive experience of their story shared.
I really love nature memoirs and this one is a delightful one about a piece of marshland in the east of England, written by an author who is a nature writer but also an avid birdwatcher. I really enjoy reading about subjects a person is passionate about and I know far more about birds, their behaviours and how they exist in Britain, than I did before. The book itself is gorgeous, with illustrations and a lovely cover to go with the writing style. It made me want to visit this piece of land and just sit there in peace and quiet for a while. It is also a book that would be easy to dip in and out of with the seasons, since it covers a full year.
Along with the nature side of it, the author also talks about his own life writing for sports/nature with The Times and his adventures with his son, Eddie. Eddie has Down's Syndrome and has a special interest in nature, so many of the adventures the author has is accompanied with Eddie by his side.
The book is a little slower paced than I thought it would be but it fits well with the subject matter and it is good to slow down a little with this book. Definitely one I would recommend and reread again.
A highly personal account of the purchase and management of an area of marsh bordering on Norfolk and Suffolk which was part of the Norfolk Broads. It is where Simon Barnes and his family live.
More than that, it describes the birds and wildlife they encounter during the first year or so of living there and the reactions of both Simon Barnes and his son, Eddie, who has Downs Syndrome. There are many, many personal observations about what they saw and the habitat changes brought about by land use practices and the way that has evolved with more intense agriculture.
This excellent book talks a lot about the challenges of managing a place for wildlife and doing it well..... It's an unstuffy and personal account of how they got on with the marsh....
A good read. I liked it a lot as it took me back to birdwatching days in and around Norfolk and happy self-catering holidays in the wilds of Eastern England. I'm more an amateur birdwatcher than Simon Barnes but I still loved being outdoors doing it!
I liked this book but didn't love it the way I have loved some other nature-related books. I found Simon Barnes' style a little choppy at times, and not as lyrical as I would have liked. He keeps repeating certain phrases to do with reproduction and the life cycle (x making more x, the business of becoming an ancestor, the business of Not Dying) until I wearied of them somewhat. I think he is at his best when talking about his teenage son Eddie, who has Down's syndrome: how Eddie interacts with Nature and wildlife and their strong father-son relationship. Three and a half out of five if I could do halves. Thumbs up for the beautiful cover illustration which is repeated on the endpapers of the hardcover edition which I read, making it a physically beautiful book to handle and to give as a gift.
A charming book that helps one realise that you don't have to be the world's expert, live the perfect life or become an 'anorak' in order to make a difference to Britain's wildlife. Just do what you can with the resources you have available in all of Life's muddle and demands and you'll make a difference. Chuck in some word instagrams in the form of 'tweets' - so gratifying to see these being used in the way they were intended - and a few well placed evocative poems written by Eddie, Simon's teenage son who has Down's Syndrome, and you have a well written, genuine and heartwarming read that revives the soul and is gently thought provoking in equal measure. I am already looking for local courses to learn more about bird song/bird identification.
Frost: ‘I dressed in as many layers as I could while retaining movement, and went out to feed the horses. I found that I had exchanged them for a stable of dragons: three twin jets of smoke billowing over the three half-doors’
Rosehips & Blackberries: ‘There were rosehips along the lane. Blackberries too. ‘Blackberry, Blackberry mind the prickles! We don’t like it when you tickles!’
Robins: ‘Robins are more trusting than most birds: they have worked out that there’s profit to be made from foraging around a human. The robin on the spade handle is a truth as well as a cliche: a tribute to their adaptiveness.’
Interesting and written as a very visual record of the wildlife living within the marshes of the Norfolk Broads.
I often find that nature writing soothes me. This book certainly did that. It is gentle and compassionate, and not too full of scientific jargon. He sometimes rambles on a bit, off the point, but on the whole, it is well written and very readable. My favourite thing about the book is the way he includes his son, Eddie, who has Downs Syndrome. He shows how the outdoor life and the natural world build Eddie's skills and his confidence in himself. He includes some of Eddie's poems in the book, which I think is great. His point is to show that there is more to Eddie than meets the eye. I learned a lot about nature, too.
This is a really lovely book about the wildlife the author encounters on a small area of marshland he and his family own. His enthusiasm and joy in the marsh and it’s inhabitants are shared by his family, especially his son Eddie, and by extension, with the reader. Barnes is neither sentimental nor a know it all - he readily admits his lack of knowledge in some areas. The book reads rather like sitting down with a stranger in a pub (or on a marsh, eating baked beans out of a jar) and listening to his anecdotes. I especially relished reading about his son Eddie and also about the marsh harriers.
I really liked spending a virtual year with Barnes and his son Eddie enjoying the marsh and all it had to offer. We need more of this sit down and appreciate things time and I love the idea of protecting things simply because they are vulnerable.
I lived this line from the book: 'Magic is not what we can't explain but what we do not want to explain.' and this book is full of the magic of nature.
I also really liked what was said about how wild life is also wild death It's all just a cycle that without us runs pretty smoothly.
Lovely gentle book not lacking in depth at all. I am going to think about Simon and Eddie and their picnics for a while - I am so glad they are real.