Has the plastic message finally got through?
Is the current heat making anyone worried?
Do the wildfires in Spain signify more than a terrifying situation caused by ignorance and lazy behaviour with someone’s cigarette end?
Is the American toe dipped into the ocean which is the Korean DMZ a good or bad sign?
And, closer to home, will those who disrupt our daily lives realise that their pleasure is our nightmare?
Trials and turmoils ending in tears and yet a sense that worse is to come on the political front; where do we go from here?
With temperatures fluctuating across three seasons this month, UK citizens have had to dig around from one end of the clothes rail to the other, deciding on a summer outfit just hours after wrapping cosily on winter woollens. Not such a difficult task perhaps, but the climate emergency is here.
Thankfully some brave souls are making a stand in order that our political representatives are forced to wake up.
So it’s been a crazy month for British politics and still no end in sight; my mind suddenly started singing “Where do we go from here?” whilst reciting a tiny snippet of Shakespeare recalled from English Literature at school:
“All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players,
They have their exits and their entrances…”
The stage has certainly been complete mayhem for months with no sign of order, whilst the backcloth of Life is scrunched up, unfolded and looked at, then stuffed into a bag, tossed around and unfolded to be examined again…. the process being repeated many times over until the cloth has turned a grubby shade of grey!
Short-sleeves and ice creams in British February has been a seriously unseasonal event worthy of hitting the headlines, and arguably should have remained headline news within the scientific context of climate change and global warming. Some state that the weather has always presented odd blips but that such events don’t carry significance. Overall rising temperatures have been recorded for the last 14 years at unprecedented levels; we might wonder what next February will bring.
Quoting the British MP Caroline Lucas writing in The Independent two days ago:
“Nine of the 10 hottest years on record have occurred since 2005. January 2019 was Australia’s hottest month ever – with averages topping 30C in a deadly heatwave. Prolonged droughts worsened California’s destructive wildfires.”
And, “Last year’s three-month heatwave meant England had the hottest summer on record – and it was joint-hottest for the whole of the UK.”
“This is part of a wider global trend of record-breaking temperatures and increasingly extreme weather patterns.”
Reading the comments following her opinion piece it’s clear that many don’t share this worry. Having been alive long enough to recall regularly icy winters and hot summers it’s clear to me that the weather is changing.
February temperatures of over 21 degrees Celsius, as recorded at Kew Gardens in London this week, should be regarded as bizarre and worrying. I recall my visit there in 1974 during the February half-term holiday; how grey and dreary it was although my memory of it is a happy one with bright flashes of the gloriously luscious palm house and exotic paintings of Marianne North.
Watching energetic blue tits flitting about under a beautiful blue sky yesterday morning, it certainly appeared that these tiny little birds were enjoying the warmth of some welcome January sunshine. Later I had trekked up the hill heading into town, walking through our coastal greenery it was clear that all our local wildlife were making the most of that glorious sun-soak. As ever, my crows came down to see what offering I had hidden in the brown paper bag clutched in gloved hands; these watchful Corvids do seem to be used to me as their “look-out” calls when I arrive along the first stretch of path. With our unwanted crusts dropped off to satisfy those shiny black creatures my route took me along narrow paths where the shrubs offer shelter to much smaller specimens.
It was a joyful walk punctuated by flashes of red from near-hyperactive robins and colonies of blue tits, looking almost tropical in their blue and yellow coats. Scuffling noises close by were accompanied by the sight of squirrels bounding away, and on one occasion at least the, less-welcome, long thin tail of a rat disappearing into the undergrowth. In my opinion these much-maligned creatures have to be accepted as long as they stay well away from our homes; we have so many foxes sharing our space and I’m sure some of the rat population end up on vulpine banqueting tables.
Walking home with heavy bags my slow pace helped me spot the green shoots of bulbs hidden in the earth; snowdrops I hope.
These moments remind me of the “Ladybird Books” of my childhood, from whose pages enticing illustrations and densely-packed written details opened the doors to the pleasure of identifying both flora and fauna
Tonight’s snowy weather also serves to remind of how these sparks of spring sunshine can hide an icy devil. As the house got colder I dug around in my woollens collection to select additional jumpers, uncovering a pure wool V-neck which I had carefully layered in tissue for storage…a welcome rediscovery!
It’s no surprise to be closing the month with snowy scenes; looking back over my life-time the meteorological records will back up my own memories of various “big freezes” and trekking through knee-deep snow in my school days and when a young mother pushing our family transport, the buggy. Times have changed and the reality has certainly shifted with regard to what our winters have become. However, there’s no doubt that the cold is still an icy devil and something from which every living creature requires protection.
Homelessness has been on the increase in recent years and it’s clear that its visibility has also shifted to become part of too many High Streets. This must form a separate chapter but, in these temperatures, a critical one for our administration to tackle with more urgency.
The on-going action in France to protest about the increasing taxes on vehicle fuel have made an impact which perhaps politicians failed to foresee.
Halloween and all that; visiting the supermarket today, the depressing sight of rows and rows of “pumpkins” manufactured out of plastic…useless unnecessary junk to create more polluting waste. One might wonder exactly how many shoppers will buy one and put it away carefully for next year after its one night stand?
The way this festival has been promoted and pushed by all those wishing to sell more junk is utterly depressing; the traditional celebration slipped away many generations ago when all things modern seemed preferable to ancient traditions. It’s pretty clear that the development of China as manufacturer of ultra-cheap consumer throwaways helped resurrect a wide range of commercial opportunities to “celebrate”.
Fun dressing up from the “dressing up box”, party games and a few sweet treats kept the festival in low key for decades; accessible to all who chose by simply being an impromptu event; no special sweet-collecting receptacles required. The extent of Halloween now is nonsensical in the light of a world drowning in plastic waste and junk destined for landfill and where plastic fibres are ingested in our seafood and in the air we breathe.
How many of those plastic pumpkins will end up in the ocean?
Legislation is the only answer as consumers will continue to choose what’s on offer, specially when it’s so cheap; with schools holding spooky discos for primary-age children and our Environment Minister still debating banning of plastic-stemmed cotton buds, it’s clear that little will happen until the threat to human life is as bloodied and bruised as those zombie characters appear to be.