Everywhere I look, there are signs. There are warning signs, diversion signs, public right of way signs. They puncture the landscape, each one a reminder that HS2 is reshaping the countryside in ways both visible and invisible.
Since my last visit, the HS2 works have progressed. The path where the trains will run is now clearly defined, bridges have risen across the fields, and yet the disruption continues. Earthmovers, fences, and machinery still dominate what was once quiet farmland and woodland.
As I walked along the public path, I met Tony and Louise, out for a weekend stroll. We chatted about the project. Tony focussed on the endless metal fencing, the slow pace of construction, and the sense that someone, somewhere, must be profiting handsomely from all this upheaval. Then Bill passed by, shaking his head. He said that HS2 was “Disastrous for the countryside.” He told me how he’d recently brought his daughter to see the area near Sixteen Acre Wood, and how shocked she had been by the scale of the destruction.
What strikes me most, though, is the sheer number of signs. They seem to compete with the landscape itself for attention. The public path winds past a tired-looking environmental pond. Then further down there is the original pond still clinging to its place amid the diggers and debris. The woodland here is sparse. Trees have been toppled, stripped back and scarred, but still they hang on waiting for the construction to finish.
Walking across the path of the future train tracks. I took in the scene. The HS2 line is still dirt for now, awaiting concrete and steel. Machinery parts, pipes, fencing, and plastic weights litter the area. It is difficult to imagine what this place will look like when everything is complete. Will nature ever fully reclaim it?
Tony asked me what I thought of it all. His question caught me off guard. The truth is, I am somewhere in the middle rather like the metal fence that separates one side from the other. I am dismayed at how easily nature is cast aside, yet I cannot deny the appeal of improved transport and connectivity. Still, the pace and the cost weigh heavily on any sense of progress.
Searching the internet, I came across a photograph online by Robin Stott titled “A Family Walk by Sixteen Acre Wood” .
Taken in 2011, it shows a dark, dense woodland. The scene is peaceful and the field is ploughed ready for planting. This is an image from another age.
Progress, it seems, may be efficient but it is rarely kind.
This is the latest in a long line of Blogs about the HS2 construction taking place around 16 Acre Wood near Berkswell. If you found this interesting then please read my last blog which will then lead you along to all the others on this subject.
