Living in the Woods

Sunday, November 16th, 2025

Behind the house is a large area of woodland, which once formed part of Bressenden. The estate was divided up into four separate lots in 1959, so that it would be easier to sell. Lot Number 1, which was bought by my father, consisted of the main house and gardens and a small portion of the woodland. The two staff cottages further up the road were sold as individual dwellings, each with its own small plot of garden and woodland. The rest of the woodland was sold as a single lot and has been privately owned and managed ever since. But it has recently changed hands, having been bought by woodlands.co.uk, and it is in the process of being subdivided into small plots, for resale to multiple owners.

Quite what this implies for the future maintenance  and management of these ancient woods is worrying. More than a dozen separate families will each own a small patch of woodland, and I am sceptical that the majority will have more than minimal experience of woodland ownership and management or will have the inclination to employ qualified tree surgeons if they themselves cannot wield chainsaws. Since those of us with property on the periphery of the woodland already own pieces of it, the newcomers buying up the central portions are unlikely to be living close enough to their patch to monitor their holdings and carry out maintenance. Of particular concern is the maintenance of the tracks. Some of these will be shared, but others will be enclosed within individual parcels. I foresee that the maintenance and upkeep of what used to be wide forest tracks will be minimal at best and non-existent at worst. The tracks will soon become narrow paths with brambles creeping in from both sides and saplings growing in the middle. They will close up and disappear if left unmowed, especially if they are not walked along regularly by humans and animals. This transformation happens incredibly fast. Letting a managed plantation revert to natural, native woodland is a laudable concept in theory, but risky in practice from the point of view of spread of disease due to lack of monitoring, clearance or thinning, and potential fire hazard to those houses on the edge. Maintaining proper fire-breaks needs big machinery to come in and mow them at least once a year and remove fast-growing saplings like birch. This was done religiously by previous managements ever since we came to live here, and rightly so, as fire-breaks are essential in a wood of this size. These woodlands extend along a ridge, which attracts storms. Bressenden was struck by lightning in the early 1940s and almost burned to the ground. Trees in our garden have since been struck. Our increasingly dry, hot summers and the inevitably increasing footfall in these woods are only going to increase the risk, and I can’t say that I welcome this change of use from a fully managed woodland to a minimally managed one now, which could easily become wholly unmanaged when the initial enthusiasm of new owners begins to wane. However, the situation is what it is, and there is not much that one can do other than keep a close eye on what is going on in those woods.

It is easy to forget just how extensive these ancient woods are. They shelter us from noise, pollution and wind. We can sit outside on the terrace during a gale, listen to the roar of the swaying trees that surround us and not feel any movement of air at all. On a more optimistic note, the agents who are preparing the woods for resale have created a rather wonderful bird’s eye video of Bressenden Woods, which includes the photo above. If you want to buy a piece of gorgeous Kentish weald (an Old English word for forest), now’s your chance. But I do hope that you will take on board the responsibilities associated with woodland ownership.