A Short Story About a Village in South-East England

 

What I can see of the village, on a winter's day, from the bathroom window. (Photo from personal collection)

Stevington is a little village in Bedfordshire. It's name is Anglo-Saxon and means "Styfa's Farm"; I am not sure who Styfa was, but it is a distinctly rural and agricultural name still appropriate for the village today. The hands of workers in the fields have played their part in shaping Stevington's landscape. But, before human endeavours left a mark on the land, it was the forces of nature which scraped and sculpted stone and soil.

The river Great Ouse runs through the Parish, flowing southeast between two other villages. The river cannot be compared to what it was thousands and thousands of years ago, when it was a more powerful beast. It gouged out a steep-sided little valley which it left behind, found today between Stevington and Pavenham, the next village over to the north. This mark on the landscape evidence of its past greatness as a major river, one that drained great ice-sheets.

The village lies 135 feet above sea level on a geological base of oolitic limestone. This was laid down 165 million years ago, when the land which today makes up the county of Bedfordshire was beneath a coral sea.

Clear bands of Oxford clay are also in evidence. These formed 150 million years ago by rivers heavy with silt. The blue-green and sticky Oxford clay forms a heavy soil which made arable farming very difficult before mechanisation.

From prehistoric rivers and seas, and all that they laid down, a small English village did emerge. Like many rural English villages, Stevington has been defined by the agricultural, the Church, and its community.

The small English village is free from the noisy and luminous stimulations of the more urban environments. There is less for the people of small villages to be distracted by, and so they turn to each other. They know the names of their neighbours and they greet each other when meeting on the paths they walk. Groups form, based on particular passions, pursuits, and interests, and meetings are had. 

As well as these human endeavours, the wild and the natural has been a great influence on countryside life. From the way that the seasons have dictated the agricultural year, to how aspects of the natural world have found their way into English folklore. 

We have even bestowed names upon our homes and lanes that have been inspired by the wildlife around us -- Foxbrook, Skylark Cottage, Duck End . . . wild names plucked from the rural landscape and given to those warmly lit places we call home.

Stevington has nurtured and been home to an array of wild animals synonymous with the English countryside. Fox, deer, hedgehogs, rabbits, birds of various sorts, and so on. Today, Red kite fly over the fields of the village; a graceful raptor which was once common throughout Britain but which suffered persecution throughout the 18th and 19th Century and was brought close to extinction. One hundred years of careful conservation saw this bird make something of a comeback in a few pockets of south Britain. To look up and see them glide overhead is a privilege.

This though is no paradise, no Garden of Eden unaffected by the outside world, and this little village has been witness to some of the declines which are unfortunately part of a national trend. It has been quite a number of years since I last saw a hedgehog in the garden, for example. 

In spring, various flowers bloom, and butterflies, moths, bees, and other insects are drawn to them. Compelled by instinct and nature. Again, some of these little lives, vitally important to the ecological landscape, are in decline and not seen in the numbers anything like what they once were.

But there are efforts being made to preserve what we have, to accommodate the wild and the natural which can still have a home in the little English village. Groups are forming in the village concerned with nurturing the natural and the wild. Remembering, with humble respect, the forces that sculpted the land out of which this small English village sprang.

If we can remember those forces, the respect that we have had for nature in the past, when it dictated our agricultural pursuits, working with the land rather than against it, we might just save something for ourselves, and for the wild lives that have fired our imaginations. The wild lives which we now know are of great importance, each and every one of them, as part of a rich and diverse tapestry in our countryside. 

And those wild lives really are a great part of what makes living in a small English village such an awesome experience. They have had such tremendous influence on village life in the past, and it would be great to be able to pass that on, to protect it for future generations.

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A Brief Consideration of Environmental Issues

 

Discarded cigarette ends; toxic little pollutants. (Photo from personal collection)

Walking down many streets, I have often been struck by the amount of noise we human beings make. The screams, the horns, the alarms, the drilling, and the speakers turned up loud, bass thumping vibrations through everything . . .

All the noises we make come together, forming some desperate cacophonous scream into the void, just to prove that we are really here. 

And too much of it is doing real harm to the environment.

Wild animals use sound as a means of navigation, to find food, attract mates, and avoid predation. When these animals must compete with overwhelming human noise, these pursuits are hindered. As a result, their lives are put at risk, and even shortened.

Trading the streets of a town for the lanes of a countryside village is to trade one sort of pollution for another. In my experience, rural paths are usually quieter than the more urban counterparts, but it is this very quietude that makes them attractive to those looking for a spot to dump waste.

Too many times, on otherwise pleasant rambles, I have stumbled across a pile of illegally disposed of waste. Piles of plastic, batteries, metals, and machinery. Chemicals leaching slowly into soil. 

And we are, most of us, by now, well acquainted with the imagery of wildlife hindered or even harmed by such lazily discarded rubbish.

But it doesn't have to come in piles for it to be a problem. Streets decorated with dropped bottles, plastic packaging, takeaway boxes, and forgotten pet poop . . . All the individuals that just cannot be bothered . . .

It adds up to a big problem. 

Inefficient waste disposal, whether it is the fault of the individual or local authorities, also creates problems for local wildlife, and leads directly to harmful interactions between people and wild animals. Sometimes harmful to people, sometimes harmful to the wildlife.

When packages that contain food are left on our streets, or bins are overflowing, that is going to attract wild animals. These animals are trying to survive, and an easy meal is going to draw them into our worlds. 

However, rather than striving to do better, rather than disposing of waste more efficiently and maintaining a better standard of hygiene and cleanliness, we label those animals pests and vermin. We make the decision that those animals which have had the audacity to exploit our laziness must be persecuted.

The rat has its place in the ecological landscape. It is a source of food for many other animals and plays a part in maintaining the health of forests and jungles. Human beings have created a world where this rodent thrives and has been able to spread disease however, which has, in turn, led to a problematic relationship with this animal.

We have to take some responsibility for the ways in which we have bluntly and blindly forced our way into the natural world, intent on exploitation and plunder, only to cause great deals of harm, to ourselves as well as anything else.

We took the grey squirrel from its native America, and released them into British parks just because it amused us. We have been absurd in our interactions with the natural world at times!

When I hear a robin singing from a tree at eleven o'clock at night, its instinct to rain melancholy melody from the treetops ignited by the sickly yellow streetlights, it is saddening. And we are doing that, we are messing with some of the basic elements of these animals' lives. Elements which add up to more profound effects.

Human beings are a product of natural processes, not the other way around, but we treat nature and wildlife as though they ought to respect our innate greatness. We declare certain spaces suitable for human habitation and pursuits, and others for the more natural and wild. We resent nature and wildlife when they try to share our spaces with us, or if they attempt to exploit any of our creations.

Yes, we label those pesky aspects of the natural world "pests", "weeds", "vermin". Which is a handy collection of words we created to justify our killing them off, and without doing much of anything to change our own ways in the interests of maintaining a healthy environment. 

There are signs that the mindset is changing. Natural history coming to the fore in education in schools, the greater options for environmentally conscious consumers on supermarket shelves, and companies pledging to do more about plastic pollution and emissions. The way forward doesn't look entirely bleak.

What can we do as individuals?

We can begin by being mindful of our choices, by educating ourselves about the choices we make. Personally, I find it is a lot harder to continue making harmful choices once I know those choices are harmful. And so, we put our education to use, utilising the knowledge we have gained for the better.

Charitable and nonprofit organisations such as the RSPB or the Woodland Trust make it part of their mission to gather data which will benefit the betterment of nature and wildlife, so these reputable organisations can be considered worthy resources for information on the health and wellbeing of the natural landscape.

As well as these, a visit to a local bookshop or library is worth a visit. Browsing through the natural history section ought to throw up at least a few great titles. 

And join social media groups about nature and wildlife too – there can be some great conversations in there. And keep an eye out for groups local to you!

Sign petitions, put up posters, talk to your local MP, talk with businesses, join groups . . . There is much that we can do to effect change.

Is there still a long way to go? And will we get where we need to be in time?

It's hard to say.

It might all depend on where we focus our great powers of innovation and creation.

I don't think anyone can deny that human beings are a great species, and that we are capable of marvellous things. But, in the future, we might have to pursue, as well as those inventions devoted to the progress of industry and humanity, what is good for the world as a whole.

I think that that is a far nobler ambition anyway.

Thank you for reading. 

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Christmas scraps, a new year, and a big garden birdwatch . . .

 

The robin, Erithacus rubecula, is synonymous with Christmas time, and Britain's favourite bird. (Photo from personal collection)

Christmas is practically here, and a brand new year will soon follow. And with that new year, as every good, nature-loving boy and girl knows, comes another Big Garden Birdwatch, here in the UK.

Run by the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSPB), the Big Garden Birdwatch is one of the largest and well-known citizen science projects in the UK. It takes place every January and its aim is to gather data about bird numbers throughout the UK.

In 2023, the Big Garden Birdwatch will take place during the weekend between the 27th and the 29th of January.

All you need to do is sit in your garden, your local park, or watch the birds that visit your balcony, for an hour. Make a note of which birds you see, and then submit those figures to the RSPB, either through their website, or through the post.

At the end of this blog post you will find a link to the RSPB page where you can sign up for next year's watch. When you sign up, you will be sent a guide to help you identify the likeliest feathered visitors to your garden. You will also receive a code that gives you 20% off and free postage and packaging when you make a purchase from the RSPB online shop.

For the individual taking part in the Big Garden Birdwatch it can be both a calming and an exciting activity. Calming because you must be mindful in your watch, and exciting because you never know which birds might make an appearance!

Unfortunately, many of our gardenbirds are suffering a severe decline, with 38 million birds having disappeared from UK skies in the last fifty years. And that is why projects like the Big Garden Birdwatch are so invaluable. With data about bird numbers throughout the country, it gives conservationists a better idea of how to help different bird species. For example, if one type of bird is doing well in one area of the country but very poorly in another, it provides a starting point for figuring out the variables that might determine that bird's success or failure.

So, it's worth checking out that link at the bottom of this post!

So, in the meantime, throughout this festive season of the year, before we reach the Big Garden Birdwatch, what can bird-loving boys and girls do to maintain their place on Santa's nice list?

He does check those lists twice, you know!?

Well . . .

For those of us tucking into a hearty Christmas lunch, and other festive foods, there are often scraps and leftovers to deal with. And the question arises, what to do with them? Sandwiches? Casseroles?

Why not put some of it out for the birds?!

Fats from cuts of meat will be a real treat for some gardenbirds, such as blue tits. However, you must be sure that the fats are unsalted. Birds are practically incapable of metabolising salts, and salt can be toxic to them. It affects their nervous system. So, no salt on the bird food table!

Birds will appreciate a little bread, but it is best to avoid putting out too much because it does not provide much in nutritional value. So, to avoid birds filling up on too much bread, only put out a little. And, if you can, do so with other more nutritional foods available.

When it comes to bread, it is also worth remembering that brown is better than white, and that birds will have an easier time eating moist bread. If bread is stale and dry, give it a little soak for some happy gardenbirds!

If, after Christmas dinner, you like to settle down in front of the telly with a glass of something yummy and a selection of cheeses, don't forget the birds!

They probably won't be interested in what you have in your glass – unless your preferred Christmas drink is a nice glass of clean, fresh water – but some of them will see a nice bit of mild cheese as a real treat. Grate a little mild cheese, put it in your garden, and you might spot a red-breasted robin tucking in with enthusiasm. A perfect Christmas garden scene!

For further details on which garden scraps and leftovers are safe to put out for gardenbirds, please follow this link to the RSPB website.

As well as providing food, it is equally important – if not more important! – to make sure that birdfeeders and birdbaths are clean.

Birdfeeders, attracting wild birds to visit and revisit, can be a hotspot for the spread of parasites and diseases if a decent standard of cleanliness and hygiene is not maintained. 

For this reason, if birdfeeders cannot be cleaned once or twice a week, it is better to not feed birds at all.

To clean your feeders, you will need a bucket, warm water, soap, and materials appropriate for your feeders. For example, sponges or pipe cleaners. Many wildlife charities and animal welfare retailers now sell kits for cleaning birdfeeders. And it is best to look out for those feeders which are made to accommodate the hygiene conscious nature lover when you make your purchase.

I promise, it is worth that little bit of effort to give the feathered visitors to your garden a better shot at a healthy life, free from diseases.

Diseases like trichomonosis, a horrible affliction that causes lesions in the throats of infected birds, are often spread through feeders. And it seems terribly sad, to this humble nature blogger, that those who might have the very best of intentions at heart might be doing a great deal of harm instead.

Please, clean your feeders.

For more information on good hygiene practices for your birdfeeders, please follow this link.

And, if you have done all that, you might expect a good variety of birds to visit your garden during the Big Garden Birdwatch of 2023.

However, if you've no garden of your own, you can also watch birds that visit balcony feeders, or you can watch the birds that visit your local park.

If you've an hour to spare during the weekend of 27 – 29 January 2023, sign up for the RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch here!

Oh, and before I forget, have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! 

And for those that might be alone, or unhappy for other reasons this Christmas time, I hope that you find your way, your place, and your people! I wish you well too!

Thank you for reading.

Before you go, can I ask that you please consider supporting this blog and buy a cup of warm Christmas punch for the author here.

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It is all very much appreciated. 

And, again, thank you for reading, and a Merry Christmas!

Remembering Passion

 

Lichen on a country gate. (Photo from personal collection)

I took the above photo when I went for a walk along a countryside path I have walked many times before. A path I have known since I was quite young. But still it was different. Not quite the same path, not quite the same gate, and not quite the same me. But despite the changes I still find the joys I found there years and years ago.

That more recent walk was my first little ramble after recovering from my first – and I hope my only – dealings with Covid. It had knocked me into bed for weeks, and I was keen to get outdoors into the bite of autumn air.

To breathe the countryside air again, to take lungfuls of it in gentle exercise, was wonderful. Clean, cold, wet November in my nose. 

There were birds too, still singing from treetops, even when dropping temperatures had ripped branches bare. There was still song, and there was something reassuring in that. That beautiful melody can still be found in the brutal bite of colder and less plentiful times. 

And birdsong makes me stop and stare, it fills me with the same thing that must have welled up in Wordsworth at the sight of a rainbow.

My heart leaps up when I behold . . .

In that poem, Wordsworth describes the joy and peace he feels at the sight of a rainbow, feelings that had been a constant with him since childhood. And he desires that he be forever peacefully humbled by Nature's brilliance.

It is also a poem that explores the relationship between nature and a poet's wellbeing. His heart is lifted, and has been lifted many times throughout his life, by nature.

My own experience of nature is measured by my romantic eyes, and I go out there with a desire for the joy it brings. The childish wonder I still feel, and peaceful and healthy relief from matured troubles. 

Still, I go out there with pocket books and guidebooks crammed into my pockets. A bird identification book pokes out of the back pocket of my trousers. Two other pocket books, both to help me identify various plants, are nestled in my coat pockets. Because I want to know and understand better; you do, when you love a thing. 

Often, when I go out into the countryside, I see things that I cannot identify, and I hear songs I do not understand. So I go scroll through internet search results, I take recordings on my phone, stroll into some social media groups with a question or two, and throw myself into the guidebooks and ID cards. All in an attempt to plug those holes in my knowledge.

I don't mind being a little bit dumb about these things, still needing to read and research, not knowing the scientific name of everything I meet, or hearing a bird I can't identify. It's part of the journey. And no naturalist – from the young beginner, right up to Sir Attenborough himself – can claim to know all there is about the natural world. The natural world is an ever changing thing, as is our understanding of it. That ever learning journey is one that every naturalist and nature lover is undertaking. 

The learning is part of the joy. Flicking through pages, finding an answer, on a little personal journey of discovery, and understanding better what I observe the next time I take my mud-caked boots down some country path.

What is this blog posting about? I hear you ask. Those of you that have made it this far. Well, it is a consideration of my own passion for nature, for wildlife. It is a discussion about the love of wildlife and nature that has been with me since childhood. And, I hope it might make you think of your own love for nature and wildlife. After all, it is the starting place, the place from which the desire to learn comes. 

Actually, no, I hope it is not a starting place. That suggests that it is something left behind. No, I hope it is the heart of my, and your, pursuits in nature. The beating thing at the core of your pursuits in nature, keeping your relationship with nature alive and well. Because one has to hope that anyone who goes into nature, whether they are a photographer, a conservationist, a wildlife television presenter, a researcher . . . whatever . . . they do so with a love for nature beating at the centre of what they do. That they do not forget the passion and care as their journey begins to also include desires for the perfect shot, adequate funding, ratings, knowledge, and the attention of those in authority.

I strive to understand nature better, I read the books and learn the names. And I do what I can to support those who work to protect and care for wildlife and nature. However, for the most part, I think I look at nature with the stupid romantic heart of a poet. 

I am fascinated by the studies done to capture the songs of warblers, count the notes that are sung, and how others of their species react to those songs. I am keen to learn more about the wildlife on my doorstep and how I can do more to accommodate its presence. And I will make the case for the benefits of richer biodiversity with anyone who cares to argue the point. 

But it's the unquantifiable things that draw me back outdoors, that ignite the desire to learn, and which lures me outdoors in the cold to clean and tidy the birdfeeders to maintain good health and hygiene of feathered garden visitors. 

I am not writing this post to suggest that a romantic and airy love for nature is more profound than a scientific understanding, that the poet is more valid than the scientist. No, I just don't want to forget the love.

Scientific understanding can justify, quantify, and be exploited. Love reminds us to care, to protect, and remember the indescribable profundity of nature. 

There is, of course, another category of person, another sort of person that looks on the natural world with a more cynical eye. Not the knowledge seekers and the scientists, not the poets and the romantics, but the exploitative and the money makers. The ones who dump and destroy for the sake of temporary pleasure or money in the bank.

I sometimes think that we have made a Frankenstein's monster out of the institutions and systems that we have created, a monster that we then made a god. 

We sacrifice life and that which gives life to the economy, one of our gods with bloody altars to its name, in the name of its health and wellbeing. And so, at the foot of these altars and idols we've erected, fascinated by our own genius, we forget that we are a product of nature and natural processes . . .

Things are changing, and there are reasons to be hopeful. Solutions are being sought to the problems of humanities detrimental impact on the natural world. There is a desire there to improve people's access to green spaces, particularly for those that have been limited by economic and physical limitations. And Natural History will be offered as an option in schools for GCSE studies.

There is reason to be hopeful.

A mother who home educates her children once told me, as she explained how her own teaching methods took in the subject of Natural History, that if she showed her children the beauty of nature, helped them to understand it now, that they would be more likely to look after it in future.

Give children the chance for a healthy and positive relationship with nature and they can carry that with them forever. If we let them play out there, get muddy, and get to know the wildlife around them, nurturing their fascination with it, we might end up with less of those cynical types.

We must remember that we are still, and forever will be, a part of the natural world. We are not separated from it.

The best conclusion, considering the place and importance of passion and knowledge in our pursuits out in nature, I think, is that they both have profound value. To what degree they are important probably depends upon the endeavours of the individual. The poet's work might be made richer with a little scientific understanding. And the conservationist might find their work much easier and rewarding with a constant love for nature in their heart.

By fostering a little more of both in our children, we might find ourselves in a world of less cynicism and destruction. We might find new ways of doing business, ways which are sustainable, profitable, and ethical. 

And I do think that the best way to knowledge is through passion and wonder, and that fostering and nurturing that is as valuable as education. And not just for children.

It is important that those who work in nature take time to reconnect with their passion for nature and wildlife. It is so easy to become jaded in the target driven world of work and competition. It is understandable that conservationists are left weary by their battles. And being a voice for nature can be sore and wearing.

Make sure your heart still leaps up when you behold. 

Wordsworth's poem ends with a wish that his life, for always, will be strung together with an appreciation for nature, its beauty and intelligence. That his days to be bound each to each in natural piety.

The poet asks that his life continues with that in his heart which makes him stop at the sight of a rainbow. That he is made peaceful, joyful, and humbled before Nature's brilliance. 

Really, I think that that is why I used this space to ponder upon my own love of nature, my wonder in its presence. Because I have the same hope, the same wish. And I know too something precious would be lost if I ever found myself without that love any more.

What makes you stop and gasp? How did your love for nature and wildlife begin?

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