Nearly 60 years ago, biologist and journalist Rachel Carson expressed a growing unease about the deadening effects of the new artificial pesticides on wildlife and people in her seminal volume ‘Silent Spring’. The title of this book eloquently captured the tangible impact of the loss of bird life resulting from the use of these novel chemicals, the like of which the natural world was ill equipped to absorb. At the time, species after species in the US and Europe were suffering catastrophic declines – a fact whose cause she traced to the cocktail of chemicals being scattered across the landscape in the cause of productivity. The book faced huge opposition in the courts, funded by the agrochemical industry, but remained in publication and is still available today.
Were that the end of the story, we might be used by now to one silent spring after another. But the use of agrochemicals became regulated, DDT was banned and nature began to recover. Ironic then, that it’s the diversity, beauty and sheer volume of birdsong that has characterised one of the strangest springs in living memory, when it seems human activities, not nature’s sounds, have fallen silent, giving the floor to the birds for the first time in generations. Nature in her resilience, bounces back – our aptitude for destruction being partially effective but thankfully so far limited. Perhaps there’s as good a reason as any to stop whatever damage we’re doing now and turn our energies to finding ways of living as part of the natural world rather than enemies of it.
Early on an idyllic morning mid-May, I took my computer and microphone outdoors to capture what I could of the dawn chorus. At 4.30 I might have hoped to be in time to record the first chirrups of the day but I was late to the party. Sitting for half an hour against the wall of the Meeting House burial ground, I heard the chorus warm up and rise, song by song, to a crescendo of trilling, chirping and cawing – an orchestra eager to play out the drama of the morning.
It would be a travesty to waste time saying any more when nature has so much to say that has for so long been drowned by the mechanical noise of our day-to-day life. So at this point I’ll hand over to the players of the dawn chorus – the Robin and Wren, Song Thrush, Blackbird and Blue Tit, Crow, Jackdaw and Pheasant, along with a host of other soloists. If you can pick them out, drop us a line!
The following open letter was sent to Julian Smith MP shortly after the election in December and subsequently published in the Craven Herald under the curious title ‘I have questions for our re-elected MP’. These are not questions; they’re instructions – delivered from an electorate that has shown itself far ahead of the government in its concern about climate change.
Dear Mr. Smith
I note your success in securing re-election as the parliamentary member for Skipton and Ripon and write to offer some thoughts on the direction of the government of which you are now a part.
I’ve no doubt that you’re a hardworking, dedicated constituency MP and I’ve appreciated your willingness to engage with constituents’ concerns and respond to questions, often in some detail. You clearly also have the political support of the majority in this constituency.
The same may not however be said of your party with respect to the national picture. The vagaries of our system of democracy invariably deliver governments elected on a minority of the popular vote and the 2019 election is no exception. Under normal circumstances, those of a different view can hope that balance will be maintained by a swing towards their preferred choice at the next opportunity. Voters at least have the opportunity to participate in that uncertain and unequal process.
These are not, however, normal circumstances. We’re facing a global crisis of unprecedented proportions, in the face of which action of unprecedented range and rapidity is required. That challenge is the climate emergency, confirmed as a political priority for the UK in Theresa May’s last few days as Prime Minister.
The first duty of government is the security of the people, and climate instability threatens our security as surely as any other issue. Whether through coastal erosion due to rising sea levels, increased intensity of flooding events, pressures on food and energy production, increased vulnerability of international food systems, social breakdown in regions of the world most affected and the resource-driven conflicts that ensue, the UK is by no means immune to this, humanity’s greatest challenge.
Conversely, our economy – the sixth largest in the world – has often demonstrated its capacity for rapid change in the face of shifting global realities. We possess the capacity both to develop and benefit from new technologies, best practices and creative ideas in ways not always available to less developed economies. Our history as the cradle of the industrial revolution that seeded climate change is clear. It is our responsibility to lead the world in the creation of a carbon-free economy, supporting international efforts by disseminating these technologies and practices wherever they are relevant. The opportunities at home for a rejuvenated carbon-free economy and radically improved environment are immense. We may be already committed to achieving that by 2050; but the global target is unlikely to be met by all nations. Since we can act and change more rapidly, then we should.
Your party’s manifesto was notably light on ambition concerning the climate emergency, as evidenced in the analysis carried out by Friends of the Earth. Your leader showed his disinterest in the subject by refusing to attend the leaders’ debate focussed on the issue. Yet the majority of electors voted for parties with substantially more radical approaches to climate change.
There is no time to wait till the next election. The emergency is now. Tentative, baby steps will not do. Your government must lead – first by engaging with all positive ideas, including those put forward by your opponents, then by implementing a radical, holistic plan with as much urgency as is governmentally possible, testing every policy with respect to its climate impact.
Finally, although I disagree with your politics I wish you well in this term of office as MP and in whatever role the Prime Minister chooses to give you. I recognise your good intent and trust that intent will help you listen, reflect, challenge where needed and act in good faith. Your leader is patently fallible, appears utterly ill-equipped for his office and in need of guidance from wiser heads. If he wishes to speak credibly about ‘healing’, he must put aside mocking language, disrespect to minorities and derision towards those sections of the public whose commitment to social and environmental justice he finds inconvenient. Above all, he must speak truthfully. The government he leads and in which you serve must be the servant of the whole country, not just the minority which elected it. In the face of the urgent issues of our time, that is truer than it has ever been.
Landscape Architect, Quaker
Further information and resources
the UK’s response…
what we can do…
So sang the children in the nativity play I enjoyed this week, having been drafted to accompany the renditions of ‘Jingle Bells’ and ‘A Merry Christmas’ on the keyboard to book-end the performance. Not having children of my own, witnessing a school nativity from the outside (as opposed to being a tea-towel wearing shepherd the last time I had anything to do with one…) was a delightful first. The children sang, shouted their lines and gesticulated with gusto, all in splendid costumes that rivalled the attire of anyone on a big-time stage. A production worth stopping and looking in for sure (assuming you were a parent or had something to do with the school of course).
The line that stuck out brought to mind the dozens of times this year I’ve noticed walkers and visitors to Airton stop by at the Meeting House, accepting the implicit welcome of the open gate, and step inside our remarkable building. Intentionally simple both inside and out, this humble pile of stones nonetheless seems to appeal, offering perhaps a moment of rest on a long walk, a fascinating peak into history or just shelter from the rain. It’s meant much more to thousands of people over the centuries of course and to us who know it now, as a living Meeting House, a cultural venue, polling station (all too often of late…) and community facility.
But without the people, familiar or strangers, it is just a pile of stones – the contents page of a lost history perhaps. It’s those who built, expanded, maintained and cared for these buildings whose story they tell; and principally, that story revolves around the obvious question of ‘why?’
The answer to that question lies in the 17th century beginnings of Quakerism: a coalition of dissenting voices gathered from various parts of this country, particularly here in the north-west of Yorkshire and northern Lancashire, many of whose lives are documented in some of the older books on our library’s shelves. Their spiritual journey had brought them to a point where they no longer wished to be bystanders in faith, receiving titbits of wisdom from priests and people in authority, being told what to find significant and finding that that included little about their daily lives. For these dissidents, it was no longer enough to attend services, perform rituals, take instruction from above. They believed they could be authors of their own journey, both as individuals and as communities. So they gathered in simple, out of the way places, waited on the wisdom they found within themselves, shared their thoughts with each other and grew in confidence and faith.
Today’s Quakers might individually follow a variety of religious faiths and even none but that story of seeking one’s own wisdom and listening to the wisdom of those around you regardless of status or personal history unites them with the forbears who occupied this meeting place and the hundreds of similar places that quickly sprang up around the country in the latter half of the 1600s.
Taking the time to engage both with the world and one’s own thoughts in company is no indulgence. It’s no less than an opportunity to stop and look inside. And when that opportunity is taken, sometimes what is found inside is precious – no less than one’s own contribution to the peace and wholeness of the world. Not just something to be passed by, whether in the busy-ness of Christmas or at any time.
Have a peaceful Christmas and come to visit us in the new year!
Saturday 28th September was a day of memories and reflection. Our ‘Young Friends’ reunion brought together former guests who had spent many a magical weekend at Airton Friends Meeting House and Barn from the 1950s onwards. Laying out fascinating old photos, they shared their stories of games by the river, muddy walks and evenings of camaraderie.
John Gilham recalls ‘…between 1995 and 2004 the young persons’ Link Group had an annual mountain-biking weekend at the Quaker “bunk barn” attached to Airton Meeting House. Conditions were Spartan, if not primitive, the cycling exhausting, exhilarating and incredibly muddy, yet many participated multiple times.
The barn had been stayed in by groups of, particularly, Young Friends since the 1950s but by 2005 was almost unusable, failing to comply with standards of health, hygiene and fire safety. It was totally renovated and enlarged thanks to the efforts of local and regional Friends and re-opened in 2011. On 28 September this year, Bone Jones and I attended a re-union of some of the people who had used the barn from the 1960s on. What a contrast! Clean, warm and spacious with modern kitchens well kitted out, comfortable-looking bunk beds and places to relax. It can sleep up to 18 people in dormitory accommodation but also welcomes families to stay…
Of course, even more wonderful is the adjoining historic Meeting House, used for Quaker worship continuously since the early 1650s, always open. Meeting for Worship on 2nd and 4th Sundays at 3pm. And if that’s not enough there’s some of the most beautiful scenery in Yorkshire right on the doorstep!’
The evening gave a different take on recollection in the form of Debbie Cook’s wonderful rendition of two monologues from Alan Bennett’s canon of ‘Talking Heads’. A feat of memory in itself, the performance brought two beautifully scripted characters to life and reminded a rapt audience why these pieces and their author are so warmly and widely loved.