It takes some getting used to the Somerset Levels’ unique quiet. The marsh is rarely silent, so it’s not exactly silence, but rather a slowness and the impression that the environment is running on its own schedule. Writer and naturalist Stephen Moss moved to the Levels, a low-lying stretch of wetland that lies below sea level and floods with a kind of indifference to human inconvenience, after leaving London and a lengthy BBC career. What he discovered there is older than most conservation frameworks can explain, and he has spent years trying to preserve it.
The BAFTA-winning BBC series Springwatch, which transformed birdwatching into appointment television, is likely the reason Moss is most well-known to the general public. As president of the Somerset Wildlife Trust, he has established himself as one of the more reflective voices in British nature writing, but his more subdued and enduring work has its roots in this part of Somerset. His books, including Hummingbirds and Wild Hares, all focus on the same subject: what England’s countryside really has to offer if you take the time to notice it.
Due to centuries of drainage, peat cutting, and flood control, the Somerset Levels have a medieval origin. The vast fen habitat, reedbed, open water, and wet grassland that were present here prior to the drainage works were all carefully removed to make way for farmland. It was a complete transformation. What was left was a landscape that had sacrificed biological complexity for agricultural utility, one that was both productive and impoverished. The majority of people traveling through on the way to Glastonbury might not have noticed what had been lost. It appears straightforward when it is anything but because of the flatness.
In an effort to partially undo that loss, Moss and the Somerset Wildlife Trust have been working with reserves such as Shapwick Heath and the larger Avalon Marshes complex. Restoring water levels, promoting the growth of reed, and removing obstacles that prevented wetland species from migrating across the landscape are examples of small, gradual rewilding initiatives rather than large, dramatic ones. The outcomes, which were not made public in a press release but rather accumulated over years, have been subtly impressive. Bitterns came back. Otters came back. Once rare, the great white egret now appears to have never left the ditches.
Observing this kind of restoration work gives the impression that the land is remembering its former state. That may sound a little romantic, but the ecological reality validates the sentiment. Species that have been absent for generations reappear when water returns to drained fen, sometimes more quickly than anyone anticipates. Beneath all that farmland, the medieval landscape remained; it was just waiting for the conditions to return in nearby patches and seed banks.
Regarding the political aspect of this work, Moss has also been outspoken. His participation in the DefendNature campaign of the Somerset Wildlife Trust demonstrates an understanding that conservation is more than just ecological; it necessitates addressing the policy environments, planning frameworks, and agricultural subsidies that initially caused the issue. It remains to be seen if Britain’s current political environment will advance quickly enough to preserve, let alone expand, what has been rebuilt. However, the marsh doesn’t wait for policy to catch up. Reeds fill it. The marsh harrier shows up. Something starts over.
When reading Moss’s writing or observing his work unfold throughout the Levels, it is difficult to ignore the fact that what he is doing is more about patience than spectacle. Attention is drawn to significant conservation moments. However, the Somerset marsh experiment, if you can call it that, consists of smaller components: a ditch that has been reconnected to the moor, a field that was left ungrazed during the winter, and a water level that has been raised by a few centimeters. In isolation, none of it is dramatic. When combined, they create a landscape that hasn’t existed in centuries.
