Palm Sunday service at St Michael's Church, Swaton,Lincolnshire. Held on the Sunday before Easter, the event commemorates the arrival of Jesus into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey before His attendance at the Last Supper.

A demonstration in Boston, Lincolnshire, calling the invocation of Article 50, which would initiate the process of the UK leaving the EU. It was finally granted by PM Teresa May on 29th March 2017 sending a formal notification to the European Council and triggering the two-year period for withdrawal negotiations .

Early morning Shift change at Fleet Hargate, Lincolnshire.

Early morning shift change at Superflora on Washway Road, Fleet Hargate, Lincolnshire. The company which supplies flowers in bulk to supermarkets and wholesalers around the UK is a major employer in the area and part of the Dutch Flower Group, a significant player in the global floriculture industry.

The Dutch played a foundational role in shaping the flower trade in South Lincolnshire, particularly through their expertise in land reclamation.

In the 17th century, Dutch engineer Cornelius Vermuyden led drainage projects in the Fens, transforming the marshy expanse into fertile land with silt soils. This reclamation, continued by figures like Philibert Vernatti, created the conditions for agriculture, including flower growing, by providing well-drained, nutrient-rich ground ideal for bulbs like tulips.

The Dutch model of fenland management didn’t just alter the landscape—it brought a mindset of precision agriculture to Britain. By the late 19th century, their influence deepened as farmers  across the country looked to the Netherlands’ thriving bulb trade for inspiration.

The introduction of the Darwin Tulip around 1890, a Dutch-bred variety prized as a cut flower, spurred  experimentation with forcing bulbs under glass—a technique borrowed from Holland's growers. The Fens emerged as a rival to Holland, with its bulb production peaking in the early 20th century, when over a third of Britain’s bulbs came from the area.

 


Waiting for the first customer of the day at Baxter's chip shop window, Sutton Bridge, Lincolnshire.

                                                                         Spudflation

In 2023, the UK experienced a notably difficult year for potato production. A summer drought followed by heavy autumn rain resulted in one of the lowest potato harvests on record. The poor weather was compounded by rising energy costs caused by the Russia-Ukraine war and labour shortages at home after the threat of compulsory vaccinations following the Covid 19 Pandemic saw an exodus of migrant workers from the UK.

Some farmers reduced or abandoned potato planting altogether in favour of more lucrative crops such as oilseed rape. The situation worsened in 2024, with the wettest 18-month period since 1836 (October 2022 to March 2024) causing significant delays in planting and harvesting. Waterlogged fields prevented machinery from operating effectively, and some crops were left to rot. The National Farmers' Union and potato growers like Albert Bartlett warned of "spudflation"rising costs due to limited supply, with prices exceeding £1 per kilo at times, a 30-year high. 

The 2024 harvest came in at around 4.14 million tonnes, one of the smallest in recent history, further strained by a reduced planting area ,down 10-15% from 2022. The National Federation of Fish Friers noted that 2023 and 2024 were among the most expensive potato years since 1976 , with forecasts for spring 2025 suggesting chip shop prices could reach £20 per 25kg bag of potatoes, up from £15-£17 pre-drought.


A Tullos threshing machine up for sale at a dispersal auction of the late Jessie Watson, farmer of Littleport, Cambridgeshire. Mr Watson purchased the vehicle in 1946 and paid for it to be transported to the Fens by train from Aberdeen, Scotland. Then it required three workers to operate it and another to tow it by tractor. Today, its tasks can be completed by one person.

In the Fens, a slow and relentless transformation is unfolding, one that stretches far beyond the soil itself. The agrarian farmers, once the heartbeat of the flat, fertile land, are dwindling. As they pass away their modest plots are increasingly amalgamated into the vast, faceless holdings of large agricorps.

Each death marks not only the loss of a steward of the land but the quiet unraveling of a rich cultural tapestry that has defined the region for half a millennia.

When the late Jessie Watson of Littleport, Cambridgeshire purchased a Tullos threshing machine in 1946 he transported it by train from Aberdeen to the Fens. Then it was a symbol of modern engineering ingenuity; requiring three workers to operate it and another to tow it by tractor. Today, its tasks are managed by a solitary operator, an illustration of how technology has streamlined labour while stripping away the human bonds it once fostered.

The Labour government’s new plan to impose inheritance tax on farm sales is poised to accelerate this erosion, piling financial strain onto families. For generations, farmers like Watson handed down not just land but a legacy and a rhythm of life tied to the seasons.

The tax makes succession untenable, forcing heirs to sell not to neighbours who might honour those traditions, but to agricorps that see the soil as little more than a balance sheet.

As these corporate entities sweep in, the patchwork of fields that once bore the imprint of individual hands is giving way to a sterile uniformity, erasing the dialects, folklore, and quiet pride that thrived in the shadow of the hedgerows.

For further reading see Justin Partyka's photographs of the agrarian farmers of East Anglia.

 

A tribute to Margaret Thatcher at St Mary Magdalene Church flower festival, Gedney Lincolnshire. The memorial features coal, a handbag, a miniature No 10 door, and a book on the Falklands war.

Shippea Hill rail station, located in the remote expanse of Cambridgeshire’s Fenland, is a request-only stop on the Breckland Line, which stretches between Cambridge and Norwich. Once infamous for its status as Britain’s least-used railway station, a title underscored by a mere 12 passenger entries and exits recorded in the 2015/16 period it has an intriguing history that reflects broader social and economic shifts in the region.

 The station, originally opened in 1845 as Mildenhall Road by the Eastern Counties Railway, was renamed Burnt Fen in 1885 and finally Shippea Hill in 1904. Despite its minimal infrastructure—lacking a ticket office, ticket machines, or even basic amenities it has persisted as a functional stop, largely due to the low cost of maintaining its automated level crossing and the complexities involved in formally closing a station. 

 In recent years, however, Shippea Hill’s fortunes shifted as it gained a modest but notable uptick in usage, driven by the practical needs of migrant workers. These workers, mostly from Eastern Europe, were employed in the agricultural and food processing industries that dominate the Fens, particularly in the towns of Soham and Mildenhall. The station’s proximity to Ely, a key rail interchange just a nine-minute train ride away, made it a viable commuting hub. Workers from surrounding villages would catch the 07:17 train, a rare scheduled stop ,before being shuttled by minibus to their workplaces in the fields and factories, where they processed vegetables and other produce grown in the fertile Fenland soil. 

 This niche role transformed Shippea Hill from a near-redundant relic into a small but functional cog in the region’s labour economy, with passenger numbers rising to 142 entries and exits by the 2010s 

 The Covid-19 pandemic, however, disrupted this fragile resurgence. As the virus swept through Britain in , demand for the station’s services plummeted. Many migrant workers, facing uncertainty and economic instability, chose to return to their countries of origin. This exodus was compounded by rumours that receiving the Covid vaccine might become a mandatory condition of employment in the UK—a prospect that, while never fully realised, fuelled anxiety. 

 Today, Shippea Hill stands as a curious anomaly—a station that briefly found purpose in the only to retreat into obscurity once more. With no nearby population centre—Prickwillow, the closest hamlet, lies over four miles away—and a landscape offering little beyond fields and drainage ditches, its future remains uncertain. The migrant workers who once breathed life into its platforms have largely moved on, leaving Shippea Hill a quiet testament to the transient nature of rural infrastructure and the human stories it briefly sustains.

Rotting apples in an orchard, Friday Bridge, Cambs. Fruit remained unpicked in the autumn of 2021 when thousands of migrant workers left the UK after the Government threatened to make the Covid 19 jab a condition of employment.

One of the deliberate outcomes of the European Union’s expansion in 2004 was the establishment of a subordinate class of migrant manual labourers, obliged scurry around member states acting as a mechanism to restrain the domestic workforce, suppressing wages and maintaining minimal working conditions. This dynamic was particularly pronounced in the Fens' agricultural sector, which depended heavily on foreign labour to supply supermarkets with produce at the lowest possible price. 

 The confluence of Brexit’s ripple effects and burgeoning economic prospects in their countries of origin empowered workers from the A8 nations to advocate for improved remuneration, enhanced working conditions, and the freedom to explore alternative vocations. This shift elicited consternation from large agricultural conglomerates in particular, which had long viewed their labour force as an encumbrance rather than an asset. Compounding this tension, the first generation of migrants who had laboured under the Society yoke were terrified into leaving the country when the Conservative Government threatened to make the Covid 19 jab mandatory. This exodus of workers from both the agricultural and care sectors in particular, left a significant void in the UK economy. To address this shortfall, wages were compelled to rise, a development that ultimately benefitted the indigenous population and those migrants who chose to remain. Consequently, prices had to rise, much to the chagrin of shareholders and consumers alike—the both having been lulled into the misconception that a low-wage, low-growth economy was emblematic of a thriving, modern society. 

Mr Andrew Fletcher's 784lb entry to the Soham Pumpkin Fair, Cambridgeshire.

The Soham Pumpkin Fair, a beloved annual tradition in Cambridgeshire since 1975, brings the community together on the last Saturday of September to celebrate local horticulture and raise funds for charities. Held at the Recreation Ground on ground gifted, it is said, to the community by two women widowed in World War 1, the fair features an array of competitions, from towering sunflowers to colossal pumpkins, alongside stalls, arena displays, and ferret racing. The event, meticulously organized by a dedicated committee, showcases the town’s spirit and creativity, drawing crowds despite unpredictable weather. A standout moment came when Andrew Fletcher, a vice chairperson of the fair, claimed victory with his jaw-dropping 784lb (approximately 355kg) pumpkin. This leviathan eclipsed previous records at the fair, where the heaviest win was 375kg . Fletcher's gourd, a testament to skill and patience, made national news, embodying the fair’s celebration of agricultural prowess in the Fens.  

On the Waltzers at the Mart, King's Lynn. The Mart is Britain's oldest fair, having been established in 1204. Once at the cutting edge of technology it was where moving pictures were shown to a paying audience for their first time in 1897. In subsequent years it has become a place where teenagers can meet up in the winter months beyond the gaze of their parents.

Councillor Tracey Carter and her mother, Sandra, preparing celebrations for the wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex at the Women's Institute hall, Holbeach, Lincolnshire, 2018.


Graffiti on a disused agricultural building near Lolworth, Cambridgeshire. The structure, known as the Conington Barn was originally built by the route of the Via Devana - the Roman road which skirted the undrained Fens. The road subsequently became the A14. The barn enjoyed a secret life in the latter years of the 20th Century as a resting place for hitch-hikers going North until the A14 became dualled and traffic speeds increased to the extent that it became impractical for vehicles to stop. After that it became a popular canvas for graffiti artists who were assured of an audience of tens of thousands of passing motorists daily. The barn was demolished as part of the A14 widening project in 2018.

Babak, a Hungarian of Iranian descent waits for his friends in Wisbech market place on a Saturday afternoon wearing his new jeans. Taking advantage of the Citizens' Rights Directive 2004/38/EC he came to the UK for work and is employed in a vegetable packing factory on the edge of the town. Initially working the night shift he has recently been promoted to team leader and now works days.

A hairbrush, a broken mirror, a plate.

An abandoned pigsty inhabited by two Latvian women who came to the UK seeking work but found themselves homeless and eating dog food to survive. Wisbech, Cambridgeshire.

Migrant workers from Eastern Europe shopping in Boston town centre on a Saturday afternoon. They’ve adopted the ‘gopnik’ look, popular amongst fans of 'blatnaya pesnya' - literally 'criminal’s songs’, a genre of music popularised by East European hip-hop artists but with its roots in 19th Century czarist Russia.

David Bishop, aka Lord Byro of the Church of the Militant Elvis Party campaigning at the Sleaford & North Hykeham by-election, Lincolnshire. He polled 55 votes, losing to Caroline Johnson of the Conservative Party.