Beauty

Each day, I walk along the path we have carefully mown through our meadow—a ribbon of space winding through swaying grasses left undisturbed. It doesn’t matter whether I am greeted by morning mist or afternoon sun, rain or stillness: I am surrounded by beauty.

What at first appeared a single, uniform expanse reveals itself, upon closer inspection, as a vibrant mosaic of species. Every day, something new emerges. I do not yet know them all by name, but my joy grows with the rising numbers of butterflies, beetles, and bees that slowly but surely make themselves known.

And yes, I often bring my camera. Grass illuminated by the low evening light, sorrel glowing at dawn, clover bracing itself against the wind, cow parsley swaying so tenderly that I imagine fairies must dwell beneath it. The beauty is often so intense, it borders on the unbelievable.

For a long time, this field was a monoculture of ryegrass—English ryegrass, Lolium perenne—favoured in agriculture for its rapid growth and abundant yield. Yet such a uniform landscape leaves little room for life. Now, here on the Schoterdijk, we are trying to turn the tide. Step by step, the grassland is becoming more diverse, more colourful, more abundant. It is a slow process, with patience as our ally. But the first shades of change are appearing, and they transform everything. Or perhaps it is better to say: they restore things to how they were always meant to be.