If there is one thing that matters to devotees of The Glyndebourne of the North it is being in at the beginning and therefore

If there is one thing that matters to devotees of "The Glyndebourne of the North" it is being in at the beginning and therefore privy to the Tales of the Bales.Something else that matters is looking the part. Things have come a long way since those hay days when the audience wore thermals and drank tea out of flasks. By some of the people who had sat on them and by some of the people who wished they had. Enter several hundred bales of straw, which were stacked in tiers, attracted mice and played havoc with the acoustics But never mind.

Overnight Clonter Farm had become Clonter Opera Farm operating then, as now, on goodwill and a shoestring. I know about the bales of straw because I was told about them Repeatedly. In a farming landscape dominated by subsidised cash-crops and standard breeds of livestock, there is a need for some diversity. Warning tales abound of fortunes lost in ostriches, angora goats and other speculative ventures, but the most conservative of dairy farmers has paid an equally high price for following established practice. Twenty years ago a south Cheshire farmer called Jeffrey Lockett attended a cattle auction and was impressed by the theatrical aspect of the arena. It inspired him to hold a charity concert in one of his barns, a move endorsed by his mother, the mezzo-soprano and music teacher Betty Bannerman.

And the individual enthusiast, whether bison farmer, visionary, or even archaeologist, undoubtedly has an important contribution to make to the future of our countryside.. Dye obtained from the plant's leaves was used as body-paint by Iron-Age warriors and the seeds may have lain dormant in the soil for the past 2,000 years.With most small farmers in this country facing an uncertain future, unusual and experimental projects have a fresh appeal. Woad has sprouted from the spoil-heap of one recent excavation. He has now reached nearly 30 metres and the present water table, but with no sign of a bottom yet in sight. Finds suggest it dates back to the Mesolithic age of hunter- gatherers, long before man had a need for wells.

Mr Green, like other archaeologists who have seen the shaft, admits to being baffled by its origin and purpose.In terms of wildlife conservation, Mr Green is equally proud of his achievements. Where some other farmers might see only an uncultivated wilderness, he points to a diverse range of natural habitats, rich in wild flowers, where buzzards and skylarks are breeding in abundance. A section of the Dorset Cursus cuts across the farm and tumuli rise on the skyline. As the owner of this ancient landscape, Mr Green enjoys a privilege most amateur archaeologists can only dream of. A former chicken shed, well protected with security alarms, now houses the collection of arrowheads and axes, pottery and bones that he has gathered from his fields. Voluntary set-aside and grants for habitat improvement schemes have allowed him to pursue his interests in archaelogy and wild-life conservation.Down Farm lies in an area of Cranborne Chase that is particularly rich in prehistoric sites.