We are quietly sat on a bench, my friend and I, as we tuck into the booty of the season spread between us - a pack of mince
pies, a small box of chocs and a steaming mug of coffee. Simple fare but
totally adequate for this much welcome catch up and mardle about our year, the
highs and lows, our engagement with all things wild and thoughts for the
future. And I get to steal the occasional glance into her lovely brown eyes, so
I'm more than satisfied with the arrangement. But although we are surrounded by
the sounds and sights of wild birds; the ‘pinking’ of chaffinches, the
chittering of blue tits, the distant squawking of wildfowl on the broad, my
friend confesses to unease over her role in the conservation life she has
chosen. She loves her job and the wonderful people she works with, but I detect
seeds of doubt. Can she really make a difference in the face of so much ill
intent? Is there really a point is caring? These thoughts resonate with my own
mindset of late since I’ve often found myself wondering exactly the same thing.
Perhaps with awareness comes a greater sense of despair; maybe in this regard ignorance
really is bliss. But how can you fight against the tide of evil despoiling our
planet? What can you do about the speed with which mankind is destroying the
wild creatures and wild places that we should hold sacred? Sometimes it is very
hard to stay positive; hard to see any happy outcomes.
So whilst we sit and chuckle over our Spartan
picnic surrounded by the mild and misty Broadland landscape with the woodland
birds busy at the feeders, I sense things need to be rebalanced. For both of us
perhaps some revalidation is required. The simple truth is we're not going to change
the world. Our horizons need to be set lower and the goals pegged at a modest
level. We must put to one side the decimation of rain forests, the mindless
slaughter of millions of migrating birds, the rape of Africa, the despoiling of
our seas - the list seems endless - and we must instead concentrate on what we can,
and indeed do, achieve.
My friend works with young people, running
events for schools and families and she is brilliant at this. Who knows how
many young minds have been inspired to look at the world differently? And I
told her so. She is part of a movement that safeguards beautiful wild places
and creates a living, breathing sanctuary for countless creatures. This too I
pointed out. She abhors the very notion of anybody harming any animal for
whatever reason and as we spoke she laughingly told of an ex-colleague who, thanks
to her example, will pick up a worm if he sees it on a wet road and move it to
safety. It is amusing, but we both agreed it represents an ability to influence
peoples thinking. She has done this.
We moved on to reminisce over those times when a
connection was made; the look of wonder on a child’s face when they see a
swallowtail butterfly, the youngsters that get so fascinated with the contents
of owl pellets that you struggle to drag them away from the soggy mess in the
dish, the fascination when a scrum of young heads crowd around the contents of
a pond dipping tray, or the excited chatter when something unusual like a grass
snake or kingfisher (thankfully) appears. It brings a smile to everyone’s face
and for a brief moment makes all the planning and stress so, so worthwhile. And
she does these things all the time. How worthwhile is that?
And like the slow parting of a thin Broadland
mist the melancholy lifts and we consider our lot with fresh hope. We are after
all just ordinary people who have been lucky to work in extraordinary environments
with some exceptional people. The big issues facing our planet can never be
addressed by us alone; we can only ever add our voice to the mass protest that
may make governments listen. But we can make a small difference closer to home
and in a modest way my lovely friend has certainly done this. She is a star
like so many others I have the privilege to know. Keep smiling young lady
because you have so much to give.
Merry Christmas folks! Many thanks for supporting
this blog during the year. I’ve found it most enjoyable to write and I hope you
have gained some little enjoyment from reading it.
Best Wishes
As always Baz, thought provoking. It certainly made me stop and reflect on my life's journey! The challenges ( the expression of the age) are enormous but if we tackle them one at a time, they will be overcome. Take heart. Moving the worm may not make much difference to the planet but it certainly does to that worm. Thank-you Baz.
ReplyDeleteThanks Richard. Maybe we can reflect further over a small glass of something tomorrow afternoon?
ReplyDeleteI'm 65 in January: like you and your friend, I sometimes become despondent at the way plutocrats and politicians have carved the world up.... But then I read reflections like yours and chat with fellow nature-lovers in the field and realise that 90% of humans are decent people and that we do make a difference in the end.....
ReplyDeleteI still get e-mails and FB requests from kids I taught 40 years ago, so I must have made some sort of impact: as have you!
Happy Christmas!
Cheers David! Yes, it's the small things that matter and just occasionally you are reminded that the efforts you make are not in vain. Merry Christmas to you and see you at Strumpy sometime soon.
Deleteperhaps we should all try that bit harder http://www.tompkinsconservation.org/news/2015/12/09/douglas-tompkins-a-force-for-nature/
ReplyDeleteHave a good Christmas
Certainly an impressive outfit. Don't think we will ever be able to dedicate our lives in such a way, little things like work, family and lack of funds tend to get in the way! Be good to do a bit more though.
DeleteSadly it is all too easy to become despondent at the lack of caring we see in the world (why is it always those who don't give a damn that get the attention of the media?) I have many times felt like no matter what we do there will always be more and more people who just don't care, and then I look into my 6 year old daughters eyes and I see why I still care for the future and why those of us who do care can never give up.
ReplyDeleteas corny as that may all sound :)
Cheers Ashley. My lad is now 27 and until quite recently I had no idea that my years of dragging him round the wilds of Norfolk trying to find stray birds had actually had any positive effect. Then one evening (after he'd had a couple) he started talking passionately about conservation and the way he wanted to see so many of the world's wild treasures. He probably won't wish to join me on a trek along Blakeney Point to see some wind blown LBJ, but he does care a lot. I'm sure your 6 year old will always value wildlife and when she has kids of her own will delight in taking them out just as you do now. Merry Christmas!
ReplyDeleteLovely
ReplyDelete