Looking onto the Marshes

What is Natural?

January 25, 2021 by mudpie12, posted in Living, Nature

This might seem a very strange question, surely we know what natural is. But the reality is certainly with respect to landscapes what many of us might consider natural (as well as beautiful) are often very artificial, managed for a particular species, in particular in the UK game species. In many cases these are also very nature sterile environments. Rebirding: Restoring Britain’s wildlife by Benedict MacDonald is a visionary book that describes this in detail. From the vast moorlands and mountain-scape of Scotland managed for deer and grouse to the pastures of Southern England with the vast dairy and beef herds. Habitats that support ever decreasing amounts of wildlife, from beetles and birds to small mammals.

Then there is the danger of good intentions doing just the opposite. How often do you see conservation groups on television programmes ably supported by volunteers, removing vast areas of scrub and bramble, tidying an area. It may appear more “beautiful” but this scrub and bramble, as Benedict describes, is key to habitat diversity. The danger is we think we know what is natural and beautiful and we risk making a damaged situation even worse.

I was struck by this as I walked out on to the marsh today. At first glance it would be easy to imagine this is a landscape unchanged over 100’s of years. Indeed the marshlands were described here as far back as Roman times, but those marshes and habitats were “lost” in the 19th and early 20th century when first a brick makers was established supplying bricks to the building of the ever expanding London and then at the turn of the 20th century the area became huge factory sites for the manufacture of gun powder. Raw materials could be easily delivered and product dispatched as a result of the presence of the deep water channel of the Swale. No longer a marsh this area was an industrial archipelago.

By the 1930’s manufacturing gunpowder so close to the European mainland was considered neither sensible or viable and the manufacturing moved north. Slowly the industrial landscape receded, buildings were removed or decayed and nature began to take back that which had been taken from it. For beneath the buildings the marshy soils remained. Bramble scrub and reedbeds have all returned. But if you look closely the ghosts of the industrial past are there. The Lee’s loved by water fowl were cut into the landscape to transport gunpowder and bricks to the estuary edge, nature rarely cuts such a straight line. When the ground is really wet, a network of paths and routes between what were clearly buildings can be seen, a gridwork of puddles revealing the industrial past.

So is this landscape natural, in someways definitely not, it has most clearly been shaped by its industrial past. But in other ways it most definitely is, because nature came back on its own terms without any “help” from us. The waders returned because the muddy, silty banks are rich with invertebrates. The water fowl love the patchwork of water ways and reedbeds. The area is not drained, regularly floods and undergoes a myriad of changes throughout the year from lake-like to bone dry, but these changes drive formations of habitats each of which will be vital nature in ways we probably don’t understand. Because if you take the time to stop and look the interconnections between land and animal will reveal themselves. Today it was the Stonechats already singing furiously as they defend their areas of scrub and bramble, the place which will be home and food source for their young in spring. Why would anyone think this would be more beautiful without these scruffy bits. So next time you grab the secateurs just ask yourself do you really, really need to?

Rebirding: Restoring Britains Wildlife by Benedict MacDonald (https://pelagicpublishing.com/products/rebirding-restoring-britains-wildlife-macdonald-pelagic-9781784272179)

Our Impact on Nature

January 20, 2021 by mudpie12, posted in Garden, Nature

This morning I got thinking about the impact humans have on the natural world. This was trigged by a small nest falling out of one of our trees in the storm overnight. My first indication something was not quite right was the fact that I could see this small nest on the ground a reasonable distance away from my upper floor window. The reason I could see it was because it was bright blue!

Dragging on my hat and coat I went out to investigate and I have never been so surprised by the contents of a nest structure. Large amounts of plastic and even tissues were beautifully woven in with the leaves, moss, twigs, sheep wool and cat fur I would expect to find in the local nests. Birds will use whatever they find and there were substantial amounts of plastic, plastic derived items and rubbish that these birds should never have found. The question then arises where did they get all this material from.

Without doubt some is arising from the gardening business of one of our neighbours, he uses old compost bags to collect garden waste on his jobs and brings back locally to us to compost with the bags stashed for next use; clearly however the birds must have spent some time shredding bits off these bags to add to the nests. Others look like the material that is used to wrap bales, again this will be local and my guess is the plastic is ripped off the bales and left in the yards. Instead of the little bits of straw they probably first went to look for the industrious little birds (I think long-tailed tits from the nest structure) have been busy stashing the wrapping. There appears to be red carpet wool in here as well and I can only assume somewhere locally someone is using this maybe as a weed retention cover on their vegetable patch and these little birds with an eye for colour have had a field day. The tissues are quite clearly rubbish and frankly how hard is it for people walking in the marshes to take their rubbish home and stop throwing it in our garden. Its bad enough when I have to find it and bin I don’t want to be finding it in the bird nests.

But as I say it got me thinking, even seemingly innocent actions can lead to an impact on nature. The person using the carpet as a weed suppressor likely thought they were doing a good thing but how many birds and insects have taken and ingested material from the shredding edges and the person probably doesn’t even realise its happening; I didn’t. Similarly the reuse of plastic compost bags, seems a good thing but who would have thought Mrs Long Tail tit would have a desire for the latest pallet of chic plastic colour for her nest in 2020. Clearly used bags when not in use need to be stored carefully out of the way. Everything that wasn’t originally from the environment can have an effect and who knows how damaging.

I pride myself on having a nature friendly garden, with wild areas, hedges and trees and relatively speaking a wealth of wildlife. We are so lucky to have many nests and at this time of year we get to see the beautiful and varied constructs. But this nest this morning truly shocked me, it was like nothing I had seen before in terms of material used in its construction, odd bits of plastic I had seen previously and that was worrying but this nest made me so sad that we humans could have such an impact on nature.

No News is Good News

January 16, 2021January 16, 2021 by mudpie12, posted in Living

For the last few weeks I have been attempting to limit my access to news and news feeds for the very simple reason it was making me either miserable or annoyed or even both. Now this is not some “stick my head in the sand” moment, ignoring everything that is going on in the world but more a case that I did not need news fed to me constantly with an associated constant stream of dire adjectives. Because as you may have noticed, the only news is bad news, even opinion pieces from the written media are full of, well, misery.

Now we as the public do have to take some of the blame for this and in part this is the way our brains are wired, when out hunting and gathering it was important to be aware of danger and risk but in the modern world this has lead to a rise in misery reporting. When asked most people state they want to hear good news, but despite this numerous studies have shown the opposite and that when given the choice people inevitably click on the bad news stories. Therefore, surprise, surprise, this is where the media focuses. And in a competition to the bottom the stories become ever more angst ridden. This constant stream of negative reporting will invariably lead to a view of the world that is well wide of the reality, but becomes the reality because we are told it is so. Its not just professional media, social media as well can breed this misery cycle.

So in an attempt to break my news habit, which had been exacerbated by working from home, the pandemic and lockdown, my New Years Resolution has been to ween myself away from the news. As with any addiction its only when you tell yourself you are going to stop do you firstly, recognise quite how often you clicked on news and secondly how automatically you had got into the habit of just picking up the phone etc. As a means of helping myself kick the habit I have set myself the challenge to improve my skills in a foreign language, so now everytime I get the urge to pick up the phone or tablet to just have a look, I click on the Duolingo app instead and after 5 minutes of German language skills I am ready to go off and do something else, I have learnt something and I continue to break the addiction.

So how is the detox going, well initially to be honest it felt absolutely weird not to have this constant stream of updates. But in reality, major events have occurred, I heard about them a few hours later and other than surprise at the events themselves, the world didn’t collapse because I didn’t know about them instantly. Indeed by the time I did hear about them there was a better understanding of what was going on and less mindless fill from the reporters. I heard about it, I filed it in my brain, I was aware but it was dealt with. There was nothing for me to do here, I stepped away from endless analysis and I carried on with what I was doing prior to that.

Most importantly I am happier, there is space in my brain for other things, I am more objective and I can focus my energies on those aspects that are immediately and really needing my attention and the reality is most of those occur within a very small distance of where I may be sitting at the time. For more long term challenges I would rather read well researched books or watch a documentary, where perspective including all sides of the arguments are provided and hope and potential solutions are offered. So its not that I have lost my passion for things, its just I believe that you evoke change and improvements by showing people the positives and exciting ways forward, not through misery reporting. So for me in 2021 No News is Good News.

Go on take a risk

December 14, 2020 by mudpie12, posted in Living

Why do girls loose confidence? It is an important question and one that Claire Shipman and Katty Kay have been exploring (https://www.amightygirl.com/blog?p=27408). As small children and up until the age of 8 years old they found there was no difference in confidence between boys and girls. But between the ages of 8 and 14 this changes. As the authors note “As girls approach adolescence, that openness to risk and failure becomes buried under an avalanche of biological and cultural signals telling them to be careful, value perfection, avoid risk at all possible costs.” How can we take those aspects of the female brain which can be excellent at the strategic thinking and temper worrying about the consequences.

Now this is not to be critical of strategic thinking, empathy and caution; appreciating the need to run away or hide from marauding beasts will have helped our survival over the years. But when girls (and women for that matter) don’t feel confident to take risks because the results may be less than perfect so much opportunity for growth and development is lost. And yet it is not just the females themselves, others can expect perfection from them while tolerating less than perfect from a male peer. How many women have been frustrated in the workplace when their as requested perfectly executed document which has been slaved over for weeks is given scant notice compared to a quick and dirty presentation on some new area by a male colleague, prepared in a fraction of the time. Given there is seemingly often little reward for perfection what is the worst that could happen if you handed over the document earlier and less perfect; yes you may get some critique and things to change but you might not, indeed you might get commended for the rapid turn around of urgent material.

One of the first things I would routinely have to do with new female members of staff was drag off them, their first reports for me. Constant refrains of “but its not ready” with every minutia being covered. Now I had an advantage, I was female, I had been there, done it and got the tee-shirt, but it has reinforced to me the need to try to help break this cycle earlier; these were women in their thirties and they were still doing this. But when you consider all outside influences it is probably not surprising and in a digital age that perfection message is reinforced making the situation worse.

Imagine you are nine and there is a big tree in your back garden. You have a twin bother and he sets off to the top of the tree because it’s there and he can. An adult, possibly dad, will come out and be proud of his boy’s achievement, what’s a few scratches and scuffed knees. Now you see your brother and think I want a bit of that and off you go to set forth up the tree. “Be careful, don’t fall, don’t hurt yourself, do you think you can make it all the way to the top, do you need a hand.” Inadvertently we feed the developing worry centre of the female brain. Add to this the growing pressure from social media to be perfect and taking risks and being different becomes ever more challenging. So girls stop, they become more cautious and all that potential gets stalled.

As adults if we can recognise this risk aversion in ourselves we can work to overcome it. So for example in my case the world did not coming crashing down when I said no to some additional work because I was already busy. That one small action made me feel empowered, inside perfectionist me was crying yes yes I can do it, but hard as it was I ignored her. But we also need to help those younger than us; we need to praise difference, stop unfair criticism and constantly encourage girls to be themselves, to be unique, be risk taking. Because for every bump in the road they encounter they will develop the skill of resilience and with this their confidence will grow.

Florence Nightingale, Mother Theresa, Marie Curie, Mary Seacole, Rosa Parks, Malala Yousafzai, Emmaline Pankhurst to name but a few, were/are all risk takers and look what they have achieved.

Hidden Secrets

December 8, 2020 by mudpie12, posted in Living

Last night I watched a BBC television programme that I knew would be hard and bring back many long buried memories. The programme was by the BBC – Strictly Amy: Crohn’s and Me (https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m000njmn). The bravery of Amy to show the raw, true state of chronic bowel conditions, a subject that is not a natural for general discussion will hopefully help many that suffer similarly but also bring wider understanding among their peers.

I was 18 years old when I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis a chronic condition of the large intestine caused by abnormal inflammatory responses, which results in extensive ulceration, severe pain, blood loss, diarrhoea and significant weight loss. Flare ups are random and periods of general good health are followed by episodes of severe illness. As with the majority of people with these conditions I would hide my condition and attempt to “carry on as normal”. During my final school year I was trying to juggle health while completing my final school exams. Something had to give and looking back it is unsurprising that the exams were ultimately a disaster, given how little energy I had to study. My fortune was that during my university interview process someone had seen something in me and despite my very poor grades I was given a chance; for this I will always be so very grateful.

While at school I had been able to on the whole hide my condition, university was always going to be another matter. Despite being in good health when I first arrived, there was always a risk that the change would trigger a flare and that turned out to be the case. Although I had been bullied in my early years at high school for a number of reasons but mainly I was tall, I was bright and I was different, nothing prepared me for the nastiness of eighteen year olds. Once a flare up happens, your best friend is the bathroom and you need it often (up to 30 times a day). This fundamentally was one of the worst things about the communal living of student accommodation in the 1980’s. The bathroom was shared, I couldn’t hide what was happening. I will never forget that day as I sat in the bathroom feeling the absolute worse, hearing others from the floor laughing and mocking me, seemingly oblivious that walls were flimsy in both directions. Listening to a person who was fully aware of what was happening because I had shared with them what was wrong, destroying that trust. I remember being curled up in pain, crying, consciously aware that I would never be like everyone else and feeling so very alone. And that is what a chronic condition does it isolates you because fundamentally you are different. Looking back with the hind-site, what this experience tells you is more about the protagonists, how when confronted by something challenging they showed their fear through mockery and I am only ever grateful that I went through this all before the social media age.

While university may have shown me the worst in people it is also where the best of people were found; a small group of very special people who will never know how much they helped me. It took courage to further share but these folk were my support network, they would feed me, keep me up to date with lectures and on more than one occasion get me into the health system as unbeknown to me my condition was slowly but inexorably deteriorating. These people are still my friends today and genuinely without them I don’t know how I would have finished my degree. There were days when just getting up was the most unimaginably hard thing to do. But I did, I got the degree.

In December 1989 the Romanian Revolution occurred, I know this because there is much written about it in books and on the internet. It is an event I will never remember happening as my ulcerative colitis had reached endgame. Weighing just 7 stone I was fighting for my life in hospital. I sit here today writing this due to the skill of one man who managed to save my life in a fraught 6 hours of surgery. This was followed up with a second operation to construct an ileoanal pouch (effectively an internal bag made from part of the small intestine) which is all that stands between me and a colostomy. In some ways I am lucky it has cured the ulcerative colitis but its far from what everyone else would consider normal, although its my normal.

So now I had different chronic condition (although related to the first) and as ever it was easier to hide the condition, rarely sharing with those in my working life that actually day to day I found things quite considerably harder than they did. When I was younger it was probably a little easier, as with most youth I had more energy. But in the last few years as was likely to happen it eventually all caught up with me. Juggling a four hour daily commute, a high pressure job, a challenging team and “my normal” I eventually suffered from burn out. I would come out of meetings with no recollection of what I had said or done in them. I would come home eat and go straight to sleep. I was existing not living. I had no choice but to leave what I was doing and it truly has been the best thing I did because I have finally admitted I can’t do it all and I have never been happier or more importantly healthier. I still work, part time but importantly for myself; I finally have a boss who understands my needs! Looking back I wish I had done it sooner.

Even now I would rather not be different. Many of us are very good at looking “pretty normal” even when we really don’t feel it. Whenever you meet new people at some point there will be a question to which the only answer is that I have not done said thing because of my health. But it is still not an easy conversation to start because chronic illnesses frankly freak most people. Yet in actual fact all most of us ever want is understanding; for the fact we may be a little different, we may not be able to come somewhere because really the only place we need to be right now is bed, we are not being aloof, standoffish or whatever else you think of us, it is in no way a reflection of what we think of you. In reality probably we really just feel rubbish.

Things that make me happy, one, two, three

November 25, 2020 by mudpie12, posted in Living

I think it is fair to say that I am naturally a happy person. Indeed from school report to job appraisals it does seem to have been a constant refrain; she is a happy individual, her sunny personality is a joy to have around etc. Indeed so rare is it for me to be angry that at work if I ever was people concluded something must be very bad indeed.

My happy state is not just a case of a lucky life. My informative years had challenges, suffering years of bullying at high school and then serious life threatening illness in my early twenties. Clearly there were times when I definitely wasn’t happy. But looking back these experiences gave me two things: the ability to amuse myself (essential to avoid the bullies) and the realisation that life is so precious and special that it should be grabbed with both hands in what ever way was feasible.

So it got me thinking what are the things that make me smile.

My husband, he is my best friend and we constantly laugh. He accepts all my quirkiness and can be relied on to drag on his boots whatever the weather as we get out into the fresh air and walk (with perhaps a bit of cake if we are lucky and plan our route well).
The cat, who is like a shadow, sitting as he is now by my computer as I type, or following me around the garden just about tolerating my playing with plants as opposed to him. From his moments of cat madness when he flies around for no apparent reason to being slapped on the face at 3 am because he can (and to be honest he has claws, so I will wake up)
Nature and the natural world. Just sitting weeding, my hands in the soil and the sounds of birds around me makes me phenomenally happy. Walking on the marshes, through a woodland or on a mountain, absorbing the sites and sounds is guaranteed to have me smiling.
Books. Give me a good book and you can loose me for hours. A love of books was one of the greatest gifts I ever got from my parents.
Science. I just love to know how things work, particularly biology. I am lucky enough to spend my working life being a grown up who still gets to play mud-pie
My true friends. There are only a few people who I would really call my true friends. These special people, many of whom I have known for years who are just there. Who don’t judge me but would drop everything if I ever need someone to talk to. When you can pick up conversations where you left off even if it is years between meetings that’s something special.

Sometimes things can be tough, but remember what is precious to you and importantly what makes you happy.

Communicating but Not

November 2, 2020 by mudpie12, posted in Living

Talking Heads by Subodh Kerkar (Himalayan Garden and Sculpture Park, Grewelthorpe, Ripon)
“Never in human civilisation, telecommunication, was so accessible to all. However, in spite of such technological development we do not seem to communicate”

Everywhere there is a means to communicate. Yet as Subodh Kerkar so clearly understands, we do not know how to communicate. Both in the professional world and social media there is a lot of noise but very little listening.

Opinions are everywhere, positions reinforced, differences not tolerated. Imagine what could be achieved if we took the time to stop and listen.

Little Brown Birds

October 27, 2020 by mudpie12, posted in Living, Nature

There is no doubting that when you walk out on the marshes at any time of the year you are welcomed by a cacophony of song. As large numbers of wildfowl make their way south to these over wintering grounds the noise is steadily getting louder, the pools and streams fuller, generally an abundance of birds.

But hidden away, many permanent residents are much harder to see, but their presence is given away with the competitive singing that many are masters of, triumphant in spring but no less melodious now. But there is one thing about all of natures marshland choristers, they are very well hidden. If you do catch sight of them, well they are small and brown. Now there is very good reason for this, living and nesting among the reeds it would clearly not make sense to draw unnecessary attention to yourself and your offspring. There are no shortage of raptors patrolling the sky’s. But as someone who is still learning who is who in the local ‘hood, it is very challenging.

Field guides are most peoples first port of call but field guides are predominantly full of the male birds in summer plumage. Beaks are a key identifier of the type of bird it might be and also does it sort of look like something you know from the garden, for example a robin in the case of the stonechats below. But without photos, however, hazy we have stood little chance as we examine the plethora of pictures of small brown birds within the guides.

Reed warbler, female stonechat, male stonechat and female or juvenile linnet.

But patience is rewarded if you are able to get out early enough, camera in hand and wait by favoured spots. The little brown birds will start to reveal their secrets. Up close you find they are more than just brown, small flashes of muted colour and intricate patterning. Habitat, beaks, song type all add to the clues of who these little birds might be. We have a long way to go but we delight in the fact that we are certainly starting to get to know the neighbours.

The Summer Silence

August 23, 2020 by mudpie12, posted in Living, Nature

Over the last few weeks walking down to the marsh there is a notable difference; the silence. We have reached the time of year when the chorus of spring and early summer song ceases and the marsh slips into its quiet period. Gone are the melodies of the warblers, the cacophony of sound from the marsh frogs and and the bleating of lambs. The prevalent sounds now are the wind whistling through the extensive grasses and the occasional bickering of gulls.

Raptors such as merlins and kestrels are busy, hovering, watching and swooping for the hidden rodents; the numbers indicating a healthy hidden rodent population. Many of the migrant birds are busy feeding up on the abundance of insects, preparing for the long migration south. Some have already gone, adult cuckoos left weeks ago, the young soon to follow, with some built in signals of head that way, making this long journey with no guidance. Other birds are busy with their last broods of the year; our solitary house martins nest, a late new family making the most of the insect harvest, to feed up their young to get them ready for their maiden migration to Africa.

All around the marshes there are changes, the light is changing as the days draw slowly shorter, the air first thing is just that bit more crisp and the blackberry’s are early and plenty. The grasses have changed from the lush green to golds and browns and the rushes have reached their full glory, they and the seed heads of the umbels providing perfect resting places for dragonflies. Only the deepest lees still retain water so drawing the wildfowl more to the heart of the marsh. There is still so much here but now it is well hidden, many undergoing the seasonal moult, away from prying eyes.

The wind continues to whisper that change is coming, for the wildlife it is key to make the most of this abundance, to store and fatten up to prepare for the times ahead.

What will you do?

August 21, 2020 by mudpie12, posted in Living

Sometimes life is just terribly cruel, the fingers of fate playing a tune no-one saw coming. Just over a week ago sitting in the memorial chapel at my brother-in-laws funeral I have never been more struck by this. At just 48 years old and leaving behind a wife and young children the rank unfairness was never clearer. The irony in that the transplant that was to give him a new beginning should end up rejecting him and lead to the loss of his life.

But in among the grief there were stories of a life, although short, lived to the full, a man who had never been afraid to take an opportunity or to follow a dream. Here was someone who had traveled the world and lived in multiple countries. Who would lead his travelling companions on just one more adventure; no risk assessment applied. His love for his wife and children, a stay-at-home dad who had shown his children the joy of being in the now and encouraging them to be who they wanted to be not what others said they should be. Children for who this loss was immeasurable. In his life, he had definitely followed the maxim “Just do it”.

And that was the message from his best friend at the end of the eulogy, a question and a message to us all, “what will you do?”. We none of know what may happen in life but we can take each day and live it, how we want to. Walking away from the grind of 9-5 was something I had already done and have never been happier, so he would definitely have approved of this. But equally I needed to find something else, something new to honour his memory.

The answer was actually quite simple when I thought about it. It is to step back from much of mainstream social media and the constant anger that is there. Life has many rich varieties, differences are what makes this such an interesting tapestry of experience. Will I agree with everything my friends and acquaintances say, no. But constant anger, failure to listen and snippy comments help no-one; where the commentary becomes one sided and very angry with a view of what is right when often all that is being discussed is a difference of opinion. There is time to be angry where there is bigotry or hurt. However, anger pervades so much of social media but we need to save the anger for when it truly should be applied and so often it isn’t.

Moving forward I plan to interact on social media only with those who as well as having views they feel confident to express, are happy to step back and listen as they understand there can be another opinion, who can agree to disagree as well as share with me views and opinions I had not considered. People who positively challenge and are prepared to be challenged in their views; who knows if we chew-the-cud for long enough we may both end up in a different place to the one we thought. These are the people who will ultimately enrich my life, as I hope I will theirs. Quite simply life is to short for unnecessary anger.