The Echo From the Fields

The Echo From the Fields

When I first published "A Reckoning in the Fields" a few weeks ago, I was writing from a place of personal frustration and academic concern. I knew the facts, I'd seen the maps, and I was alarmed by the sheer scale of what was being proposed for our part of Lincolnshire.

What I wasn't prepared for was the response.

To say it's been overwhelming would be an understatement. In the weeks since, my inbox has been filled with stories, and I've had conversations on farm tracks and over the phone. I've heard from first-generation farmers who are seeing the land they've only recently purchased and put their dreams into, now under threat. I've spoken to parish councillors who are pulling their hair out, trying to navigate a planning system that seems designed to ignore them. I've heard from residents who feel completely powerless, seeing their footpaths, their views, and their heritage signed away by a distant planning body.

What's become clearer than ever is that this isn't just a 'Not In My Back Yard' response. That's a lazy and insulting label. This is a rational, often angry, and entirely justified response to a critical democratic failure.

People aren't angry about green energy. They are angry about the strategy. They are furious that the government's own guidelines to protect our 'Best and Most Versatile' farmland are being treated as optional. They can't understand why we are sacrificing our food security to build inefficient power stations in one of Europe's least sunny regions, all while millions of square feet of industrial and warehouse roofs sit empty.

And most of all, they are angry about the process. The Nationally Significant Infrastructure Project (NSIP) system effectively silences local councils and the people they represent. It makes a mockery of regional planning, and it's forcing a change on our county that is unwanted, unnecessary, and irreversible.

Thanks to these conversations, the "Fields of Light" project has grown. It's no longer just my academic study but a personal passion project that will likely span years.

I've begun taking the first environmental portraits of those affected. These aren't just photos of victims; they are portraits of resilience, of people who are standing up to be counted. The goal is to put a human face to the statistics, to show the world who is actually paying the price for this reckless policy.

This is a story being written right now on our land. The question remains: will we be the generation that traded its food security for an energy solution that could, and should, have been built on the vast industrial spaces we've already tarmacked?

The conversation is far from over, and the project is only just beginning. If you have a story to tell, my door is still very much open.