“If you hoe when there aren’t any weeds, there won’t be any weeds”. Thus came the answer to a Gardener’s Question Time questioner who asked about the value of a hoe and who, like many readers, may have a hoe which is so rarely used as to cast doubt on its value.
The garden hoe is an ancient tool and predated the plough. It is said to have replaced the digging stick and in Sumerian mythology circa BC 4900-3000 its invention was credited to Enlil the chief of the council of gods. Hoes are also mentioned in ancient documents such as the Code of Hammurabi (c,1800 BC) and the Old Testament Book of Isaiah (c.800 BC).
The hoe has therefore, helped mankind grow food for about 6000 yrs and still does a useful job despite being somewhat overshadowed by the glitzy garden tools from Homebase, or Hi-Tec agricultural kit from Ross Farm Machinery or Pallisers.
Today, the humble hoe is neglected by many folk and the same is probably also true of local institutions such as the pub, the village shop and the church: They lie neglected for much of the year but, just like the hoe; O boy! When you need it you are really glad you’ve got it.
For some years, attendance at all these institutions has been falling but glad to say, attendance at church is generally rising again, especially in ‘Charismatic’ groups. However, the danger of losing churches has not gone away and, like our village shops, garages and pubs their future depends on our using them more frequently.
But back to the Hoe and weeds! We disturb the roots of weeds to stop them from growing and thus starving our plants of water, minerals and sunlight. All gardeners and farmers are aware that weed control is critical and so are not sentimental about how they kill them. They also understand that if weeds are left to multiply then modern life would soon be disrupted and food scarcity would cause prices to rocket, making food too expensive for many to buy.
In fact, controlling weeds in agriculture is crucial but, as those readers who grow wheat will know, recent changes to rules in Brussels have made it even more difficult for farmers to control black grass, so creating another threat to wheat yields and prices.
In cities many people do not have gardens and so have no use for a hoe, likewise most have no use for their local shop, the local pub and their local church. Despite this however, they probably don’t even realise that they are actually benefitting from weed-control done by others. Someone somewhere is controlling weeds by hoe, by machine or even by spraying, and little do others know that there are unsung heroes of food production spending their days simply keeping the weeds down.
Furthermore, just as gardeners and farmers keep down blackgrass, brambles, thistles and nettles to the benefit of society at large, I think rural folk and their church help society by keeping down the weeds of hysteria and intolerance to which many people seem prone.
I have often wondered why rural folk, unlike their city cousins, are not constantly taking up causes and then campaigning to impose a particular view on society. This may be because the ancient church is a constant reminder of the transience of our mortality, and possibly that our identification with the contours and verdant colours of the landscape generates a desire to conserve nature and its traditions for the future.
This also may explain why many rural folk appear better able to deal with both the weeds of nature and the weeds of the mind than the majority of people, and that this strength arises out of the rural institutions, traditions and values which shape us.
However, talking about the importance of controlling weeds, reminds me of friend who farms three thousand acres of what we call maize, but which is called corn in Kansas. Corn is a massive crop on thousands of American farms and much of it is exported to help feed the world. (Almost thirty-two million tons in 2013)
Brian Hind’s great-great grandfather left Lincolnshire in 1814 hoping for a new life and upon arrival in Kansas along with his neighbours built a wooden white painted community church. They did this whilst simultaneously ploughing the vast prairie lands on which to grow crops.
Brian and his neighbours still worship in that church and often reflect on an old saying carved into one of the planks. Its message echo’s a scriptural quotation which meant a lot to those early bible reading settlers, and still echo’s a resonance for all those who grow corn today. It reads;
“Hope Springs a Kernel.”
View from the Pew 