Oil crises

One of my earliest posts was about the Transition Movement in the context of energy security. And now the government has shown some common sense at last and decided in the light of unrest in Middle East that it would be a good idea to wean the UK off oil. The Transition Movement has been talking for some years now about peak oil, which is not the point when we run out of oil, but the point of maximum output after which supply will fall. If demand continues to rise, then the laws of supply and demand will dictate further price rises, perhaps spikes. The Libyan situation could have the same effect, if supplies are cut off. As Chris Huhne has now said: "We cannot afford to go on relying on such a volatile source of energy when we can have clean, green and secure energy from low-carbon sources". So the Carbon Plan, to be launched this week, should if it is worth the bandwidth address both climate change and oil supply constraints.

Also of interest... the Sustainable Development Commission (SDC), which has been axed by the government, is planning a people-power watchdog on green government: communities of experts who can analyse statistics and policy, rate government performance and lobby for improvement. The ideas were partly driven "by the effectiveness of the recent campaign against moving Forestry Commission lands out of state management - which, as they noted, was not co-ordinated by the traditional environment movement but by loose networks of concerned people." The SDC's final blast was to criticise the government's seven-page plan on Sustainable Development in Government. For my part, it seems ludicrous that Defra should be producing a sustainable development plan and DECC a carbon plan, not a good example of joined up government.

Watching sunrises

I gave this evening's sunset 3/10, for making a little effort with shining wisps of cloud, but the colours and sky coverage weren't up to the usual standard. It did, however, remind me of a couple of lovely sunrises in the last 10 days. One in particular was a glorious crimson, lighting clouds across the whole sky. As I watched during Lauds, the patch of sky framed by the Oratory windows faded to orange then yellow, or rather brightened to orange and yellow. Gazing at it later from the window at the eastern end of the community building top floor corridor, I wasn't sure what to expect. I've watched many sunsets: the fiery light, the disappearance of the sun behind the horizon, the fading to twilight, the secondary red glow, the dissolving to darkness. But I've barely ever watched a sunrise. And it's not like a sunset in reverse, ending as it does in light and day and activity and life, instead of dark and night and mystery and death. So I felt confused, in a good sort of a way. And to all you other night birds, I recommend watching sunrises.

Rhubarb rhubarb

Today was an inter-novitiate day, and a jaunt down to Oxford. There were to be more of us from Mucknell, but it ended up just being me. I did try calling the Franciscans the other side of Worcester to ask for a lift, but was too late. So as we left Oxford at the end of the day, there was the unedifying spectacle of two Frannies and two Poor Clares squishing into a tiny red Micra (comparable to yesterday's ladybird), and just me in Mucknell's ginormous silver Ford estate. So much for our sustainability effort! All I can write in defence is that I tried, and that the Ford is diesel, high mpg and low road tax band.

I brought back some rhubarb plants (native of Siberia) and welsh onions (native of, well, Siberia), kindly donated by Tymawr to the kitchen garden effort. I remember a Rogation procession at Tymawr back in May 2000, complete with sprinking of holy water, which was forbidden to go anywhere near the rhubarb patch, on the grounds that it didn't need any encouragement thank you very much! I am hoping for similar plenitude; the weather yesterday was Siberian enough.

Circling buzzards

Eleven plum and pear trees planted this morning. Proper job! Now on to the soft fruit...

Apparently, there were five buzzards circling in the distance towards Bredon, but I could only see one slightly separate from the others. My eyesight is not particularly good, and I need to ask my opticians to change my lens-by-post subscription to match my nine-month-old updated prescription, but perhaps I was looking in the wrong direction.

After lunch, I walked north down to the stream. Another buzzard was circling close above the ridge and furrow, fading south west as I approached. The stream is as low as I've seen it. The section fenced off for drinking (with scaffolding poles and barbed wire) is very clogged, and there's a lovely back-up of surface gunge; a possible job for someone on Friday morning, assuming it doesn't rain in the interim. A ladybird dozed in the sun, brilliant scarlet against the blackthorn.

Pomaceous!

We have at last finished planting the apple trees - Pitmaston Pineapple, Winston, Worcester Pearmain and all - and tomorrow is set fair, or at least only slightly drizzly, to have a good go at the plums and pears. Mary Teresa was heard talking to her trees; we shall see whether it makes any difference. Alison drew the short straw and the long couch grass, and did a sterling job making the tea. Meanwhile, Anthony and Luke were installing rabbit-proof fencing. We have invented the Mucknell Slurry Dance, a kind of hop, step and shake the mud off the welly. But we still have to scrape off large quantities of mud and gravel, and have a good scrub in the trug.

A very kind benefactor provided us with a few bottles of wine, and we duly celebrate the feast of St David at supper. To quote Philip: "Dydd Gwŷl Dewi Sant hapus!"

Observing boiling frogs

Two more thoughts on Rachel Carson's "Silent Spring"...

The book was first published in 1962, and the science and understanding of cell-level processes has moved on hugely in the last 50 years. But Carson's description of e.g. the specialised roles of enzymes in mitochondria, and small facts like bone marrow producing 10 million red blood cells per second (the current estimate is 2.4 million) highlight again for me how "I am fearfully and wonderfully made" (Psalm 139.14; NRSV).

And a quote:"Responsible public health officials have pointed out that the biological effects of chemicals are cumulative over long periods of time, and that the hazard to the individual may depend on the sum of the exposures received throughout his [sic] lifetime. For these reasons the danger is easily ignored. It is human nature to shrug off what may seem to us a vague threat of future disaster." As with chemicals, so with climate change. Are we in danger of becoming the proverbial frog that, when placed in a pot of cold water that is gradually heated, doesn't realise its peril and is boiled alive? Or do we observe nature carefully, and learn that real frogs would probably jump out of the pot... and so could we?

Silent springboard

After a bit of a hiatus, I have finished reading "Silent Spring". After her early description of the pesticides and herbicides, Carson goes on to describe their effects on ground water, soil and insect life, plants, birds, other wildlife and domestic animals, rivers and inshore waters, human organs and cell-level processes; the brutality of various spraying programmes in the US and their horrendous results; the common availability of chemicals and the build-up of small-scale exposures; the negative effect on the ecological balance and the build-up of resistance in the pests; and finally, alternative pest control methods. All is beautifully written and meticulously references the latest scientific findings.

Predictably, the chemical industry and scientific establishment (funded by the chemical industry) responded 'robustly', as described in an afterword to my edition of the book. Carson was attacked for being a hysterical woman, unqualified to write such a book, and for writing for the public, "a calling the scientific establishment consistently denigrated."

But the attacks only increased the PR for Carson's book, and it changed the world. While reading, I caught myself thinking more than once: "I hope someone does something about this". Which of course they did. President Kennedy directed his Science Advisory Committee to investigate Carson's claims, which led to an immediate strengthening of the regulation of chemical pesticides, arguably a more significant action than the launch of the Apollo programme. And the book is widely credited with helping to get the environmental movement going.

Now in the 21st century, "Silent Spring" is again being criticised by writers who claim that "environmental regulation unnecessarily restricts economic freedom". Others say that this is "a cynical 'better living through chemistry' campaign, intended to discredit the environmental health movement". And I would ask how much economic freedom do we have, living as we do on one planet and bound by a web of relationships?