Nature despair

I have no idea how these chairs, similar to the ones I’d sit on at school in the 1970s, ended up in the courtyard at Oxfam. It looks like they’ve been there for some time. What happens is birds peck on the roof and dislodge the moss; the moss falls down into the courtyard, and on these chairs. Rain water collects in the base of the chairs, and now grass is growing there. I think it’s a kind of accidental miracle.

If I were a plant or flower, would I even bother? Every spring, they come back to grow and bloom, but what if they decided not to one year, what if they just thought, you know what, we’re so undervalued, so underappreciated, all humans do is destroy us, I’m not going to bother, it’s just pointless.

But look at nature, it grows anywhere it can. Its resilience is astounding – on the side of buildings, roadsides, train tracks, any crack in concrete or tarmac a plant will grow; on chairs for God’s sake.

I don’t know which comes first – the destruction or the adoration, but either way it’s pretty perverse. The people with the power – politicians, councils, developers, corporations (commonly known as ‘the enemy’) are out to destroy at any cost. The people with no power – the writers, the artists, the protesters – are out to save.

There is now more interest in nature than ever (yes, mentioned previously) – books, documentaries, photography, art, websites, jigsaws, tea towels, journals – you name it. More writers, artists and activists are passionate about saving the planet than ever before. More people are signing (pointless) online petitions: most recently to Stop the UK allowing an EU-banned bee-killing pesticide to be reintroduced and Stop the UK from exporting its plastic waste.

This nicely coincides with more destruction of nature than ever, and none of our protests and writing and art making a jot of difference (look at the destruction of ancient woodlands to make way for HS2, an absolutely pointless high-speed railway). To me, the world feels completely out of balance (oh yeah, as if to demonstrate this, there’s a pandemic too).

I also mentioned the same thing with brutalist architecture a while ago (I know, I’m nothing if not repetitive/consistent): ever since the style has become popular, which has included a glut of lavish photo books, websites, Instagram accounts and, er, table lamps, many high profile buildings have been demolished, despite much protest. The Heygate Estate, Robin Hood Gardens and the car park on Wellbeck Street (above) have all met the wrecker’s ball over the last few years. Most recently, the Guardian reported of the destruction of brutalist buildings in the north of England, again, despite a widespread outcry.

Whilst writing this I was listening to: Trees (50th Anniversary Edition), a lovely box set of the British folk band’s early 1970s recordings.

Previously on Barnflakes
The cult of personality vs saving the planet
The world’s top ten biggest environmental problems (and how to solve them)
Battle of the Brutalists