Tom Kemp is a forester and small-scale pig farmer based in Mylor Parish near Falmouth. He’s a founder and director of Working Woodlands, a Cornish not-for-profit organisation, working to improve the health and biodiversity of Cornwall’s woods, bring neglected woodlands back into sustainable management, and increase access for all. At the heart of Tom’s work, and life, is a belief that our fundamental needs—food, fuel, and materials—can be produced in a way that benefits the environment, landscape, local economy, and culture. Forever Cornwall is proud to have been able to support some of Working Woodlands’ planting and coppicing projects, with volunteer time and financial support made possible by generous giving from owners and guests.
When and how did you fall in love with trees?
Trees have always been part of my life. My parents raised me outdoors, and all our local walks were surrounded by trees. I grew up on the edge of Lanreath in southeast Cornwall and spent a huge chunk of my childhood in the nearby Court Woods, building dens, making dams, and generally messing around. As a teenager, I volunteered with a local woodland project on the edge of Bodmin Moor, which showed me that it was possible to carve out a DIY career working in woodlands.
Why are woodlands so import for you personally?
Woodlands are important to me—and, I think, to many of us—because they are some of the few truly open spaces we have. Cornwall is a fairly enclosed landscape, full of fields and hedgerows, and the countryside doesn’t have many places where you can simply sit, picnic, and exist without trespassing. The unenclosed areas—beaches, moors, lanes, and woodlands—are some of the last ‘wild’ spaces, allowing us to connect with our more instinctive, human roots.
I also love growing things, whether that’s trees, animals, or plants. Watching trees grow is the ultimate commitment in terms of timescale. On top of that, I’m a big history nerd. Ancient woodlands are not only home to old trees, which are living history in themselves, but they’re also some of the few places that someone from a thousand years ago would still recognise today.
What’s the story and mission of Working woodlands?
My colleague Nick Jarvis and I started WWC in 2017 because we import an enormous amount of wood into Cornwall and the UK as a whole—the UK is actually the second-largest net importer of wood in the world. At the same time, over half of our local woodlands are unmanaged, which means they are losing biodiversity and declining as a resilient local resource.
We wanted to prove that Cornwall’s woodlands can provide for our communities and replace high-carbon-footprint imports. Heating and cooking fuel, building materials, furniture, food, fresh air, exercise, and peace of mind—all of these can come from our woods, while also creating meaningful rural jobs. One of the best parts of what we do is that our customers can visit the woods where their firewood or fencing materials came from and see firsthand the positive impact their purchases are supporting.
What’s next for Working Woodlands, and for you?
In the future, we hope to create a Cornish forestry hub to improve the processing of timber harvested through our woodland restoration work and expand the range of products we can offer locally. Right now, Cornwall’s timber processing infrastructure is pretty underdeveloped, making it difficult for people to access locally grown wood for heating or building. A dedicated woodyard for processing and solar-drying firewood, along with a sawmill for cutting boards and beams, would be an important link between local woods and the people who rely on them. I believe that when people know the woods that grew their kitchen table, they have a much deeper appreciation for both the woodlands and the table itself.
What’s the best and worst thing about your working life?
The best part of my job is knowing that I get to be a small part of a woodland’s long life—seeing things regenerate, watching trees grow, and witnessing new life flourish because of the work I’ve done.
The worst part? Coming home at the end of a long day cold, wet, and exhausted. And, of course, forestry isn’t exactly a high-income industry. The journey from tree to finished product is a long one, and even something as simple as local charcoal has to compete in a global market flooded with dubiously cheap Brazilian charcoal—produced on an industrial scale, often under unethical conditions.
If you hadn’t been woodsman what would you have liked to do?
If I hadn’t got into forestry so early, I think I would have gone into farming or fishing. I love any kind of primary production—turning raw, natural materials into something that sustains people and helps build a resilient community.
How did you come to live in Cornwall?
I’ve lived in Cornwall since I was five, when my dad’s work in mental health nursing brought us from South Devon to East Cornwall. Even before that, Cornwall was a familiar place because Dad was a keen birder. Trips down west or to Scilly to peer into hedgerows and spot rare birds were a regular part of my childhood, even before I was old enough to know what I was looking at.
What’s your fondest childhood memory of Cornwall?
Most of my strongest childhood memories involve heading into the woods with friends from the village, building impressively large dams and rope swings, and inevitably getting stuck in the mud.
What’s your favourite secret place in Cornwall?
One of my favourite places is paddling up the Helford and exploring the oak woods along the riverbanks. It’s one of the few places in Europe where you can see seaweed tangled in the branches of an ancient woodland.
What’s your favourite time of year in Cornwall, and why?
My favourite time of year is early May, a classic woodland season. The bluebells and anemones are in full bloom, the mud is replaced by a lush carpet of green, and everything is growing like mad.
What does Cornwall need more of?
What Cornwall needs right now is more trees and more well-managed woodlands. It’s one of the least wooded counties in the UK. I’d love to see more shelter for livestock, more trees integrated into farms as useful and meaningful parts of their systems, and more people making their living from forestry. When people buy timber from local woodlands that they understand, they become more connected to the land and its value.
Who are your heroes right now for doing positive things in Cornwall?
Right now is an exciting time in regenerative forestry and farming. There are so many people working to produce food, fuel, and materials in a better way. Ele and Anthony Waters at Pentiddy have been fantastic role models for me and for others who want to create real change on a local scale. Their latest venture, Tregovenek, is turning an eight-acre field into a true regenerative community asset, which is exactly the kind of landscape change we need more of.
What three things can you never be without, or would take to a deserted island?
If I were stranded on a desert island, I’d take an axe, a big reel of baler twine, and a strike-a-light.
Community Conversations is a Forever Cornwall initiative, inspired by, and talking with, ordinary people who are doing extraordinary things—in all walks of life. We hope you enjoy following the stories and the links. Find out more about Working Woodlands here.
