Walking into the first open field Manor Farm, our Estate in Norfolk, I was immediately struck by the horizon: flat, endless, with a huge sky stretched above me. In the east, the sun began to rise, glowing like fire.
Then came the sound: Egyptian geese calling across the fields.
In that moment, I was transported thousands of miles away to the wetlands of southern Africa, where I had so often stood at sunrise, listening to the cries of the hadeda ibis. The sound was hauntingly similar. The dry grass beneath my boots even carried the same brittle smell as the savanna at dawn.
It was, for a moment, deeply comforting. A flood of emotions, memories, warm and familiar.
And yet, as the sun climbed higher, the light growing stronger, another truth struck me just as strongly.
Yes, the sunrise was beautiful. But it was also wrong.
Beautiful. And Broken.
The geese were not native but invasive, thriving at the expense of the wildlife that truly belongs here. The dry, brittle grass was not the sign of a healthy landscape, but of exhausted soils that can no longer hold water. And the vast openness, echoing the African pans I once loved, should instead be alive with scrub, in-field trees, and a rich mosaic of habitats.
What I was witnessing was stunning, but also broken. A landscape that could, and should, be so much more.
We Cannot Wait
This is why the work we’re doing at Manor Farm matters so deeply. For generations, the land has been managed in a certain way, often with the best of intentions, but repeating the same patterns has left us here: dry, depleted soils; invasive species; silence where there should be song.
We cannot wait any longer. Climate change is no longer a distant threat; it is shaping our fields, our farms, and our wildlife, right now. The choices we make today will decide whether the next generation inherits a land of abundance or a land that continues to unravel.
And so we must act. Boldly. Decisively. Not clinging to what feels familiar, but daring to do what the land itself is asking for.
The Future We’re Creating at Manor Farm
At Oxygen Conservation, we are not waiting for change to happen. we are making it happen.
At Manor Farm, that means removing invasive non-native species and giving native plants and animals the space to thrive again. It means stripping away the artificial nutrients that have built up over decades of fertiliser use, so the soil can heal and natural processes can begin once more. It means reintroducing lost plant species into the pastures, planting in-field trees, and allowing scrub to spread across what were once bare, depleted fields.
Each of these actions brings back the richness that should belong here: food, shelter, and habitat for countless species.
Come back to Manor Farm in 20 years, and you won’t be met with a silent horizon of invasive geese, brittle soils, and empty fields. You’ll walk into a living mosaic: scrub alive with the gentle purr of turtle doves, cuckoos calling as they search for nests, and a cacophony of crickets filling the air. The soils will be holding water again, feeding a wild, messy, abundant landscape.
It will be an assault on the senses in the best possible way. A place alive, noisy, and brimming with life. Proof that when we dare to act differently, nature doesn’t just return. It roars back.
Author: Charles Owen, Head of Estates