In many parts of the world we have been experiencing extreme heat.  Here in England the temperature has broken all previous records.  With normal weather we can adjust our clothing and our heating.  But we are now experiencing extreme temperatures with wild fires and droughts plus extreme rainfall with catastrophic flooding. Although reported as being due to climate change, I haven’t noticed these events triggering a change in policies or actions that would ameliorate this.  Let us hope for more response individually and corporately as we now know that we can and do influence the weather.

The weight of our thirst

The river lies dry and cracked
and I have further to go
for water.

I walk this path each day
carrying the weight of our thirst.

We dig beneath the land now
for the ancient water,
deeper and deeper,
like chasing memories.

This land holds our memories
but soon we will have to leave.

We will walk a long path,
the young, the old, the cattle,
carrying the weight of our loss.

Every day, a 40 foot tree takes in 50 gallons of dissolved nutrients from the soil, raises this mixture to its topmost leaves, converts it into 10 pounds of carbohydrates and releases about 60 cubic feet of pure oxygen into the air.

A British oak tree is home to about 2,300 organisms including grey squirrels, little owls, ladybirds, aphids, crab spiders, the winter moth caterpillar and the spotted carion beetle.  Of these 1 in 7 ie 326 species only live on oak trees, and a further 229 are highly associated with them.  This is the breakdown:

Briophytes 229 species, Lichens 716 species, Fungi 108 species, Invertebrates 1178 species, Birds 38 species and Mammals 31 species.  If we included micro-organisms there would be thousands.

The damage that all the different caterpillars cause by eating leaves can cut the amount of energy the tree can gather from the sun by half.  When the tree detects it is being eaten, it releases volatile chemical compounds which signal for reinforcements – the blue tits.  Each eat about 100 caterpillars a day.  

Despite their importance, only 13% of the UK’s land area has tree cover compared to an EU average of 38%, which makes us one of the lowest levels of tree cover in Europe. Ancient Woodland is particularly important, yet there’s just 2.4% land area left in the UK. However we do have more ancient oak trees than anywhere else in Europe.

The way of lingering

The garden is full of soft sunshine and dappled shadows, the scent of blossom, the hum of bees and the song of birds.  It is a gentle, beguiling world softened by the play of shadows which still hold a slight moisture from their night’s sleep.  The leaves of the trees shimmer in a dance with a quiet rustling as the breeze lifts them, then lets them go.  They offer their shape and greenness to the face of the sun in a harmony of belonging.  The air is warm in the sun like silk and you can feel it carrying the fullness of this day as particles of pollen and scent brush across your skin.  And it is a Sunday, our sabbath of time saved from the routines of busyness so we can linger in the delight of the day. Have we lost the way of lingering?  Can we still notice the small wonders around us and store them in our treasure-box?  What difference would it make to our busy lives if we took care to let each beauty amaze us and fill us before going on our way, if we stopped to smell the flowers fronting the gardens that we pass?  Do we feel this is our world, do we live in the mutuality of it and enjoy the offerings of bird and flower as gift given to please us?  And do we gift them back with a smile or a touch, knowing our pleasure is a blessing?  This is the place to learn to listen, to live without the carapace that often guards us, and to find that the beauty we can see in ant and leaf and bud is the beauty we can find in our soul.

The complex web of relationships in our ecosystems where each organism affects the others has not been fully recognized until comparatively recently.  One example of this is at Yellowstone Park.  Yellowstone Park was made a national park in 1872 but that did not protect the wolves who were all killed by the 1920’s to protect the ‘more valuable’ species.  They didn’t listen to the Scottish-American conservationist John Muir, the ‘Father of the National Parks’, who said “when we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else.”

Wolves had been the top predator and without them the elk and deer numbers exploded.  This caused overgrazing of young willows, aspen trees and cottonwood plants, which in turn led to a decline in songbirds and beavers, the latter of whom rely on willows in winter. As beavers declined in numbers, the lack of damming and shade meant water temperatures rose, and certain cold-water fish could no longer survive in Yellowstone.

After much discussion and not a little opposition, wolves were reintroduced in 1995.  The impact on the biodiversity of Yellowstone National Park was seen within the decade – much quicker than those involved in the project had expected.  Willow stands had been in bad shape due to overgrazing , but with pressure from wolves keeping elks on the move, the grazing was not so intensive, and so willow stands became more robust – meaning they could again accommodate songbirds. Willows are still recovering, but strong willows also meant beavers had an abundant food source. When the wolf was reintroduced in 1995, there was only one beaver colony left in Yellowstone. There are now many. As beavers dammed and built ponds, the trees thrived, and cold, shaded water returned to accommodate fish.

In recent years, with a lack of snowy winters in Yellowstone, wolves have become the primary cause for elk mortality. Scavenger species that once relied on winter-killed elk are still able to thrive without the snow thanks to wolf-killed elk.  This is benefiting ravens, eagles, magpies, coyotes and bears. Wolves also kill coyotes, which increases the populations of rabbits and mice, and in turn provides a wider food source for hawks, weasels, foxes and badgers.

27 years on, the reintroduction of wolves to Yellowstone is considered one of the most successful examples of rewilding to take place. It is a remarkable example of the ripple effect that one animal can have on an entire ecosystem, and a lesson for us of the value of all the different species.

Lichen

My fruit trees
have lichen on their branches,
crusted green-grey
and mustard yellow,
another crop
along with the apples and plums,
telling me
like grey hair
that they have been here
for a while
and are worthy
of my respect.

This is a time when so many of us are holding Ukraine in our hearts and thoughts.  But it is also a time when, for us in the Northern hemisphere, the earth is pouring herself out in a profusion of life and leaves and joy.  For me, this is a balance and a healing.  We need the life and the joy to balance the huge amount of anger, fear and sorrow that are being released at the moment. And for those who are feeling weighed down by this, the natural world can be such a place of healing.  Take a walk out where it is green. Breathe in the beauty of new life, and breathe out the pain.  We are about to enter our summer months as Beltane or May Day is the next day, May 1^st.

I love May

I love May.  Everything is here, new-born after winter’s absence, fresh-green and glowing.  The newly hatched leaves are translucent and are as perfect as a baby’s toes, eliciting the same surge of awe.  The trees swell to their full size and you can just catch them in their playdays, unfurling fingers, learning the lure of the sun before they settle into the majesty of their maturity.  The world is green again, and for a moment it is surprise, it is joy, it is balm, before we acclimatise ourselves and it becomes backdrop to our everyday occupations.  I love the green, I drink it in deep breaths to water my parched heart.

And not just green.  The hedgerows are bright with white, hawthorn flowers above, cow parsley below, not the cultured pink of cherry blossom but mile upon mile of the bounty of the wild.  They shine as you drive past, they declare the winter dead and gone and celebrate the opening of the earth.

In May the sun can warm you mellow, playing remembered tunes on white skins.  It calls you outside, out of the dark domain of buildings and into the open air, newly refurbished and ready for custom.  And the air, the air is sweet, perfumed by the abundance of flowers so you don’t even need to hold one close to smell it.  The scents mingle with the sun to bathe you inside and outside with splendour.  At my house there is a waterfall of wisteria blossom over my porch door, and a cascade of white clematis over the back so whenever I enter or leave I am filled with the scent of May.