Return of the Wren

Photo: Clive Simpson

WE'VE arrived at the equinox when the hours of light and dark are the same and it looks like spring might finally be on the way.

Over the short, cold days of winter we’d been diligently feeding our garden visitors - probably a dozen different types of bird each day - all with their own characteristics.

One feathered friend that didn’t visit the feeders was a charming little wren who was content with hoping around the hanging basket and tubs near our window, feeding no doubt on the insects living there.

The wren is one of Britain's most delicate birds, though size does not diminish its claim to be one of the most vocal. Wrens love thickets, hedges, undergrowth and shrubberies. Anything thick, dense and small.

But then came along the ‘beast from the east’ in early March, as the winter blast was labelled in the media and by gleeful weather forecasters.

It as like the door of the Arctic had been left ajar, allowing the cold air to pour out and sweep from the east across ill-prepared little Britain.

The regular birds were aligned on the garden fence and in the bare trees each morning as we pulled back the curtains on the snowy garden.

They were waiting in the bitter cold for their supply of seeds and bread crumbs, vitally important to keep them alive in such conditions.

In all this harsh winter weather our wren was nowhere to be seen, its supply of inspects rudely curtailed by the deep snow and sub-zero temperatures.

How could such a delicate bird - the smallest and lightest of British birds - survive these conditions?

Indeed, for two weeks after the snows and cold had abated we saw no sign of our tiny friend, which we judged must have perished in the hard conditions.
               
But then, three weeks later and the day of the vernal equinox, there was a sudden, brief flicker of movement on the patio beneath the door. An old wizened leaf caught in the breeze perhaps?

No, our wren was miraculously back, busily investigating its local territory and feasting on insects among the brightly coloured pansy flowers, themselves revived by the warming spring sunshine.

Here comes the sun

Photo: Clive Simpson

THE vibrant colour and noise of summer are absent on this visceral, unkind day at the English seaside.

It started with unrequited optimism, a slip of sunshine at dawn which quickly retreated into murky fog and cold, a typically dour and miserly January day enveloped in clinging mist.

There is no wind, just chill, and the grey sea is eerily serene and flat for the time of year, merging without definition into the distant grey shoreline.

We are standing on a narrow, exposed north-facing balcony of the the Rocket House Cafe, an oddly named building whose shape and design is more maritime than space launch pad.

A rusty tractor hauls two small fishing boats off the beach just below us onto a steep jetty. They are safe now, well above the concrete sea wall which snakes away in gritty grey tones behind them.

It carries the eye towards Cromer’s famous seaside pier with its quaint, rusty-roofed theatre in front of a modern, wood constructed lifeboat house which seems to hang on the very edge of the North Sea.

Warmth and light from inside the busy cafe beckon. The chatter is comforting and masks the bleakness of a seaside town in winter, as we hold closely our memories of summer and look forward to sunny days.

Rocket House Cafe

Photo: Clive Simpson

Happy Hour challenge

 

We are at heart a wasteful society - and it seems that the intrinsic value of daylight is no exception. For large chunks of the year we often sleep when it is light and we are awake in the depths of darkness.

Such is the folly of modern society that our natural circadian rhythms and the balance between day and night have been brutally squeezed by modern electricity's triumph over the night. Bright lights are the norm and night is more of an optional experience.

Here in the northern hemisphere we are plunging headlong into days of less daylight and longer nights. And this Sunday our country will change the clocks by putting them back one hour, in what Sir Greg Knight MP describes as a “flawed annual ritual”.

According to Sir Greg the answer is to bring our waking hours more in line with the hours of daylight - rather than ‘waste’ daylight in the early morning when most of us are still asleep       

“Our current, self-chosen time settings mean that for most of winter days, people at work, college or school have little or no sunlit leisure time,” he says.

“The answer is to put our clocks forward an extra hour all year round and move to a system of Single/Double Summer Time (SDST).”

Evidence for the positive effects of shifting the clocks forward is mounting. Research indicates that any increase in road casualties during a darker morning rush hour in winter would be more than offset by a decrease in road casualties as a result of lighter afternoons.

Knock-on benefits of reduced electricity bills and improved health (less Seasonal Affective Disorder) in the winter, combined with a boost for the leisure and tourism on late summer days, mean that such a change has a growing band of champions.

Old arguments about milkmen and postal workers needing early-morning sunlight to carry out deliveries look exactly like what they are – arguments from when life was very different.

The National Farmers’ Union, at one time a staunch critic of any change, now says the reasons for farmers' past opposition to advancing the clocks have been “lost in history” (and probably modern technology).

A grassroots campaign is aiming to prove there is an alternative to dark winter afternoons – and at the same time raise awareness about the benefits to our health, the environment and economy of managing our time in a different way.

This weekend the Happy Hour challenge is encouraging people to discover for themselves the social and health benefits of SDST – for just a couple of days.

Chris Hayes, campaign co-ordinator, says: “As well as raising awareness about positive emotional well-being and freedom, this is also all about changing the way we do politics and policy; getting people to actually experience and try things out rather than debating abstract policy concepts.”

“We don't want to prescribe how people take on the challenge but ideally it is to leave the clocks alone on Sunday and spend all of that day and then next an hour ahead of everyone else (GMT+1),” he explained.

Rebecca Harris MP also supports SDST. “The Happy Hour campaign is a great way to show how people could benefit in a practical way from keeping an extra hour of light in the afternoons,” she says.

“Whether it's getting more exercise, sport and recreation or saving cash by using less artificial lighting it would clearly be of public benefit. And road safety organisations are adamant that more daylight in the late afternoon will save many lives and serious injuries.

“I hope the Happy Hour campaign will get more people thinking about how they would use an extra hour’s afternoon light and convince the political parties to commit to include it in their manifestos.”

Whilst the beauty of SDST is its ability to deliver much for little cost - the devil is in the politics. Happy Hour offers the chance to try it out in a fun way. So why not leave your watch on BST and give it a go?

Your body certainly won’t notice the difference for a couple of days. And while everyone else is complaining about how dark the afternoon has suddenly become you can enjoy an extra hour in the park or garden.


Blog photos by Clive Simpson. For more details see the Happy Hour website.  
You might also like - The End of Night and Fear of the Dark

A perfect political storm

Severe storms continue to roll in from the Atlantic and Britain is in the midst of a winter that has been nothing like a normal winter. Most likely it’s a sign of times to come.

Scientists - without being able to be exact about timing - have long warned us the changes currently happening to our climate would result in more extreme weather.

In the midst of this crisis David Cameron, prime minister, and his cabinet colleagues have been largely content to trade accusations and shift blame, like water off a duck’s back.

Successive governments have done little to plan for a changing climate and the prime minister's bizarre finger pointing underlies how bankrupt his government has become when faced with a challenge of global significance.

His pre-election promise to deliver one of the greenest governments ever has been consistently and systematically dismantled.

Environment secretary Owen Paterson's skepticism on climate change – a ludicrous trait for one in such a position – led him to slash 40% from his departmental spend on developing the UK's adaptation to global warming.

The cost of this winter’s flooding episode alone will dwarf the millions saved by spending cuts. Fixing things and preparing for future storms will run into billions - and that's before we count the cost to our farmers and food production.

Back in 2008, following flooding in his constituency, David Cameron stated that with climate change most people “accept that floods are likely to be more frequent”.

Despite government spending on flood defences under the coalition being cut by 27% another minister, Teresa May, described it no less than six times during a Radio 4 news interview as an "inherited" problem. Maybe she meant from Biblical times.

So, is history repeating itself? All that time ago it was God warning the world - and only Noah listened. Today it is the scientists. Our elected politicians clearly have a lot more listening, and soul searching, to do.

Why does it always rain on me?

The Prince of Wales launched an unprecedented attack on climate change sceptics this week, describing them as the "headless chicken brigade" and accusing powerful groups of deniers of engaging in “intimidation”.

Charles, who has long campaigned to raise awareness of global warming and has hit out at sceptics in the past, unleashed his latest salvo during an awards ceremony at Buckingham Palace for green entrepreneurs.

"It is baffling that in our modern world we have such blind trust in science and technology that we all accept what science tells us about everything - until, that is, it comes to climate science," the Prince said.

"All of a sudden, and with a barrage of sheer intimidation, we are told by powerful groups of deniers that the scientists are wrong and we must abandon all our faith in so much overwhelming scientific evidence.

"So, thank goodness for our young entrepreneurs here this evening, who have the far-sightedness and confidence in what they know is happening to ignore the headless chicken brigade and do something practical to help,” he stated.

Charles, who made his comments at the inaugural Prince of Wales Young Sustainability Entrepreneur Prize, has previously urged world leaders must "face down a storm of opposition from all sides" in order to tackle climate change.

Last year he described those who questioned the need to act as "the incorporated society of syndicated sceptics and the international association of corporate lobbyists”.

Prince Charles was criticised at the time by the Global Warming Policy Foundation, a climate-sceptic ‘think-tank’ set up by former Conservative chancellor Nigel Lawson, which accused him of engaging in "apocalyptic rhetoric".

His latest comments came as it was announced that the deluge affecting much of Britain and Europe in recent weeks is officially the worst winter downpour over southern and central England in almost 250 years.

Rainfall for January - recorded at the Radcliffe Meteorological Station at Oxford University, the world's longest-running weather station - was greater than for any winter month since daily measurements began there in 1767.

The latest Met Office data also confirmed that the region stretching from Devon to Kent and up into the Midlands suffered its wettest January since its records began in 1910.

Ian Ashpole, of the Radcliffe Meteorological Observer, said the Radcliffe measurements went back more than twice as far as the Met Office records and provided a longer term indication of how things are changing.

A total of 146.9 mm of rain fell in January, beating the previous record of 138.7 mm in 1852. The new record is three times the average recorded for the month over the last two and a half centuries. 

It was also the wettest winter month – December, January or February – ever recorded, beating December 1914 when 143.3 mm fell.

In addition, the 45 day period from 18 December saw more rain at Radcliffe than for any such period in the observatory record. The total of 231.28 mm demolished the previous high of 209.4 mm, which fell from 1 December 1914.

For the UK, flooding has been identified as the most dangerous impact of climate change - and it is hitting harder and faster than expected. 

Scientists are now examining whether the current winder deluge is a result of the melting of the Arctic ice cap which has caused the jet stream to track further south, meaning more storms are channeled across the UK.

Prince Charles’ views are backed by mainstream science and it is reassuring to know that our future king is well versed in climate science - though it may be wrong to characterise the deniers in such a way.

Far from being ‘headless chickens’ they are part of an orchestrated and well-funded campaign with very clear objectives - to create a false debate and sow doubt in order to delay for as long as possible the kind of action required to limit CO2 emissions.

What they do is calculated and dangerous for the future of this planet and its people. Thank you, Prince Charles, for speaking up on behalf of normal people everywhere.

‘Why Does It Always Rain on Me?’ is the title of the hit song by Scottish band Travis, released in 1999 as the third single from their second studio album, ‘The Man Who’. It became the group's international breakthrough single and was their first Top 10 hit on the UK Singles Chart.

Let there be light

The Milky Way strode across the sky, a band of faint light spanning almost from horizon to horizon. In the distance, lights sparkled like ships on a dark ocean. Such a dark sky with a myriad twinkling stars is a sight that is becoming all too rare - or even beyond the experience of many.

This is the heart of the Fens at night. A natural planetarium with glorious low horizons in every direction and a pitch dark sky, just far enough from the sodium city lights of Peterborough and the market towns of Stamford and Spalding.

Indeed, this part of South Lincolnshire, an industrial farming and food-producing landscape by day, is by night one of Britain’s dwindling exceptions to our light-polluted lives.

According to the Council for the Protection of Rural England (CPRE), places with the ‘purest’ night-time darkness are (perhaps by definition) among the least populated in the country.

Dartmoor, Exmoor and the Quantock Hills in the south west; Salisbury Plain and the top of the Chilterns in southern England; parts of Lincolnshire to the east; the Black Mountains and the Brecons in Wales; the Yorkshire moors and some of Northumberland; plus large swathes of Scotland, outside major cities and the Borders.

Early this year Sark – the smallest of the four Channel Islands at just a couple of square miles – became the world's first officially-designated ‘Dark Sky Island’.

The US-based International Dark-Sky Association measured Sark's night-time illumination levels and assessed the degree of visibility of constellations in the night sky. And to assist Sark's claim, one of its government officers visited every outside light on the island and recommended measures to cut artificial light seeping into the sky.

Sark is not Britain's only dark success. In 2009 Galloway Forest in Scotland was designated Europe's first ‘Dark Sky Park’. As a result visitor numbers are booming, a new observatory is planned for the edge of the forest and neighbouring local councils have introduced restrictions on outside lighting to preserve the quality of darkness.

The Inner Hebrides’ island of Coll, 13 miles long and three miles wide with two main roads and a small airport, is another dark spot with no security lights on homes, or traffic or street lights.

Much closer to home, the Rutland village of Market Overton recently reduced its light pollution by replacing its old sodium street lights with modern light-emitting diode lamps. Its 39 lamps cost over £20,000 in total to convert but immediately produced an 80 per cent saving in electricity.

These locations, however, remain the exceptions to the light-polluted rule. And they are getting rarer thanks to what the Campaign for Dark Skies describes as ‘wasteful’ over-provision of domestic lighting by British householders.

CPRE has, for several years, urged government action to limit light pollution from street lamps, overnight illumination of shopping centres, office blocks and public buildings, stark upward lighting from floodlit sports complexes and, at the household level, outdoor lights that are unnecessarily bright or disperse their illumination. Of course it would also save a lot of money and energy too – Britain's street lamps alone cost an estimated £500 million a year to run.

The most common forms of such pollution are ‘light trespass’ when illumination from Britain's 22 million homes and 7.5 million street lights, even if designed with the intention of shining downwards, typically also extends upwards. You can see it in this picture of the UK at night as seen by astronauts passing overhead aboard the International Space Station.

Two other common forms are ‘sky glow’ – that orange glow visible for tens of miles around towns and cities easily seen from the air or from distant roads – and ‘glare’, the harsh white light on some modern housing estates and golf driving ranges at night.

As October marches onwards, here in the northern hemisphere we are plunging headlong into days of less daylight, longer nights and the clocks going back – all marking the onset of winter. And, while we say we prefer it lighter for longer, in reality most of us only now experience a limited degree of darkness.

Modern electricity's triumph over the night keeps us all busier. We live in a fast-moving, fully lit world where night still happens but is more of an optional experience – a kind of failed daylight. Our 24/7 supermarket culture has done it’s best to phase out the night.

Yet slowness and silence – the different rhythm of the night – are a necessary correction to the day. Life is too short to be all daylight. Moments of life take on a different quality at night-time, where the moon reflects the light of the sun and we have time to reflect what life is to us. So why not turn down the lights and rest awhile? Night is not less – it's more.

 

The Lighthouse Keeper is written by Clive Simpson - for more information, commission enquiries or to re-publish any of his articles click here for contact details