A sense of proportion 9th April 2013

Two weeks ago I was on the northern edge of the Sahara in Morocco watching migrating swallows completing their epic crossing of the desert. They were obviously tired and quietly flew ever northwards, silent but determinedly obeying the timeless instinct of their species. We stood in the late evening sunshine on the golden sand dunes and watched their passing. Something of the wildness and very different lives of the swallows touched us, ever so briefly. It was almost as if a door leading to another alien existence but still on the same planet had tantalisingly been left ever so slightly open for us to sense a different world, but then was quietly closed once they had gone.

The Sahara 

Yesterday I saw two Swallows at Farmoor, the first of the spring for me. These birds had also, like the ones we saw in Morocco, completed that epic desert crossing and then crossed the High Atlas mountains in Morocco before coming up through Spain and France and crossing the Channel. I can never look at Swallows in the same way again.

Farmoor Reservoir

Today I listened until I could take no more of the endless and obsessional media babble about the demise of a woman called Margaret Thatcher. We are so in thrall to our human existence on this planet, seemingly obsessed with our own or others self importance yet heedless to all the other different life forms that carry on around us, occasionally touch and can so enhance our lives. Maybe the likes of Rupert Murdoch, James Naughtie and all the other gossip mongers and media moguls should go and stand on the edge of the Sahara in late March. Maybe the bankers too. A life enhancing experience for all of them. Now wouldn't that be a thing?