tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80999302490605942172024-02-19T23:49:55.257+00:00City PollenKathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.comBlogger71125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-16573032273826288112010-05-08T17:49:00.005+01:002010-05-08T18:14:34.865+01:00South and north<div style="text-align: left;">We just got back from a week visiting Provence and the French Mediterranean coast, landscapes very warm and seductive:</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja-lPBbNQGjurReDZhtXPMX9t2hbD5rYdUjZU6nX-dp4uWYZNhb4XT05BuhbRx4reK-ODhsMPAyJJP9D1x2D4-_4k4-Njw3qF_UMjMaxQjWB2FJQUbSkye8sMwfS3sj7Qo1dh9rzvqsEng/s1600/IMG_3401.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja-lPBbNQGjurReDZhtXPMX9t2hbD5rYdUjZU6nX-dp4uWYZNhb4XT05BuhbRx4reK-ODhsMPAyJJP9D1x2D4-_4k4-Njw3qF_UMjMaxQjWB2FJQUbSkye8sMwfS3sj7Qo1dh9rzvqsEng/s320/IMG_3401.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468943229680293778" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div>This is the view from our hotel room, but I couldn't capture the fast swifts wheeling and screeching in that sky.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Gorge of Verdon winds deep through the hills, the river so far below us it's hard to imagine how it ever ground away so much earth:</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_9oDijLbZLefT16XuBeFXnWEp9_2TjX_k7EAFoMbOAj2Ju7OR3bearFMXRmVp-pUqIIlRR4g7UraSD5q9yhL5e-3nLdFE6PRtGinT0FkWw-_pSdEoSh4rSNXJ968HELneFsYdoS5888s/s1600/IMG_3436.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_9oDijLbZLefT16XuBeFXnWEp9_2TjX_k7EAFoMbOAj2Ju7OR3bearFMXRmVp-pUqIIlRR4g7UraSD5q9yhL5e-3nLdFE6PRtGinT0FkWw-_pSdEoSh4rSNXJ968HELneFsYdoS5888s/s320/IMG_3436.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468942913787610242" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Green spring trees beside the bright blue water:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe0_wAyLSsDzH9c6fxkf8IZhSdIZAnlSZGkZNNAe_Vd5G0Y5P1hgB8gKJPLNRnSFF7DElt1G9HLLBdLRpOSsNPEBHFNuT9mW6B7PcYcaWPM61A5BelPLbD-NFhbUj4eBZkBvUCNxtPU3oU/s1600/IMG_3450.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe0_wAyLSsDzH9c6fxkf8IZhSdIZAnlSZGkZNNAe_Vd5G0Y5P1hgB8gKJPLNRnSFF7DElt1G9HLLBdLRpOSsNPEBHFNuT9mW6B7PcYcaWPM61A5BelPLbD-NFhbUj4eBZkBvUCNxtPU3oU/s320/IMG_3450.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468942924520131138" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">The French really do respect food; a Provence farm shop displayed its vegetables like artworks, colour-coordinated:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfwb9j1ao141_tHRpJd9R1O72D-Z4O5QPzerHk7q0NKFRGaCSKAAXzskKuk4o4ME8xVKtrD-DaUViTHEZh7gtDosnPNovQdT9yO_ZapY_SWhummYNNStVd1hUahGABlVbEYI94NLFFF-_H/s1600/IMG_3425.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfwb9j1ao141_tHRpJd9R1O72D-Z4O5QPzerHk7q0NKFRGaCSKAAXzskKuk4o4ME8xVKtrD-DaUViTHEZh7gtDosnPNovQdT9yO_ZapY_SWhummYNNStVd1hUahGABlVbEYI94NLFFF-_H/s320/IMG_3425.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468943237361168674" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyH7TT9UKh78FriXXhjkiJveLviufQl_NXnIAS5kFmyPyLPT_AQZDExaO9LLlXLG97JVr9Q5riQoaJavMVTMIjFN-PsVx2pVVK9P6lr-W_z0fxCnCqKYcSQCgYn1VspsgsiHdsfYas-JXx/s1600/IMG_3431.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyH7TT9UKh78FriXXhjkiJveLviufQl_NXnIAS5kFmyPyLPT_AQZDExaO9LLlXLG97JVr9Q5riQoaJavMVTMIjFN-PsVx2pVVK9P6lr-W_z0fxCnCqKYcSQCgYn1VspsgsiHdsfYas-JXx/s320/IMG_3431.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468943257080639522" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div>Flowered courgettes feel delicate and fleshy at once:</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGH5_czKSp66PcJUvKSU2ICUwvNdHPnoZE74_B9u4OoLusxA-xjoT707pHFX0GXcifPYIwQU_sii1YHzyjsS5qs4mQrFWbEa9yhGrHjDFFl6QdGSD6iTvl5jeYYM8s4ttDpeJLIZnc9soi/s1600/IMG_3429.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGH5_czKSp66PcJUvKSU2ICUwvNdHPnoZE74_B9u4OoLusxA-xjoT707pHFX0GXcifPYIwQU_sii1YHzyjsS5qs4mQrFWbEa9yhGrHjDFFl6QdGSD6iTvl5jeYYM8s4ttDpeJLIZnc9soi/s320/IMG_3429.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468943246737930418" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div>Back in Paris and the Jardin du Luxembourg is also in bloom, including these strange trees (I can't identify) with lilac-coloured foxglove-like flowers and some of last year's nuts still visible:</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiph8C0wbkTj5-mmfsUS7CMM97f7gqlpksu0QTRKaecaGC7UBD5NQsXETxiRfbZWASvqt95p_e6evfnxfOvp9-uT-xeNPiVO9dig6Jty1Hfa6wThMxqBMhFnk-DuXiCf94UV9xB9U7TMW-a/s1600/IMG_3493.jpg"><br /></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPIm9qsVSoGz_fVmSCD2piQhC5e6HgPrQv50h7gqTxgFv-XzCUx24UAa82KlpYWQ831KtMbZgQufNnX5kbDNCCw6EQ1nn3PoSnKpKlQG5TmG0RyjgF3NCNltn9NBNSESIbfFu71vuEl-4Q/s1600/IMG_3481.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPIm9qsVSoGz_fVmSCD2piQhC5e6HgPrQv50h7gqTxgFv-XzCUx24UAa82KlpYWQ831KtMbZgQufNnX5kbDNCCw6EQ1nn3PoSnKpKlQG5TmG0RyjgF3NCNltn9NBNSESIbfFu71vuEl-4Q/s320/IMG_3481.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468942893558997650" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg2uP3gSrXB9Y3cdrdczH4yhFBk-xW8Fe7tJljasnKmh96rUfQjIveVSNwnkv7mUfEhnJsDBpVyGM1xqrjnYncZ9HovasEaGBePe_N_Djh6YG4160JucIwRBzVvrkMq64N1nYgNjwEFpzv/s1600/IMG_3477.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg2uP3gSrXB9Y3cdrdczH4yhFBk-xW8Fe7tJljasnKmh96rUfQjIveVSNwnkv7mUfEhnJsDBpVyGM1xqrjnYncZ9HovasEaGBePe_N_Djh6YG4160JucIwRBzVvrkMq64N1nYgNjwEFpzv/s320/IMG_3477.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468942905730374418" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div>Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-9088965523564262552010-05-08T17:32:00.005+01:002010-05-08T18:12:49.950+01:00Politics of hopeThe fabulous Caroline Lucas thanked the voters of Brighton Pavilion for choosing 'the politics of hope' on Thursday when she became Britain's first Green MP. She will enter Parliament as the sole female leader of a British political party. Congratulations to her and to all the people who campaigned for her. Here's a video of her acceptance speech, in which we get to see her tired, emotional and very happy face at the announcement:<div> <div><br /><object width="400" height="280"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tGTMxO-I7AQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tGTMxO-I7AQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="280"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>During the campaign, from a quite distance, I felt sceptical that the Greens would make it into Westminster. I lived near Brighton in 2005 and campaigned door to door for Keith Taylor. The feeling that year was very optimistic, and Green supporters seemed to be everywhere. On the day the Greens got over 20% of the vote, which was great, but they still came third behind the Labour and the Tories, despite the fact that on the doorstep I never heard anyone support the Conservatives. Well, I learned a little scepticism. It's cheering to see something good come out of this election, despite the Tory majority. Caroline Lucas is a great spokeswoman for ecology and environment, and I'm looking forward to watching her take on Westminster.</div></div>Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-48669076764313834032010-04-22T10:39:00.003+01:002010-04-22T10:49:24.651+01:00Waking up againThis blog has been sleepy since Copenhagen, so I appreciated this video-call to recover from December's disaster. It's also a nice summary of politician-speak on climate change, a kind of antidote to the dreary General Election campaigning.<div><br /><object width="400" height="240"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/d_3saxIIu2E&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/d_3saxIIu2E&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="240"></embed></object></div>Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-47932818244344943822010-03-27T09:42:00.005+00:002010-03-27T10:20:33.382+00:00Give the orangutan a break<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.greenpeace.org.uk/files/po/index.html">Greenpeace</a> are putting pressure on Nestle to stop using palm oil grown on land cleared of rainforest, especially in Indonesia where forest clearances are threatening the orangutan with extinction. Nestle has succeeded in banning Greenpeace's campaign video from Youtube, so the charity is asking us to spread it across the internet despite Nestle. So here it is, but first a warning - it's quite grisly and not to be watched if you're eating:</div><div><br /><object width="395" height="238"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=10236827&server=vimeo.com&show_title=0&show_byline=0&show_portrait=0&color=00ADEF&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=10236827&server=vimeo.com&show_title=0&show_byline=0&show_portrait=0&color=00ADEF&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="395" height="238"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Nestle is the world's largest food and drink company so their actions have real impact. They use 320,000 tons of palm oil a year, and doubled their use of the product in the past three years. Much of it comes from plantations grown on cleared rainforests, accelerating climate change and driving extinctions. You can find a simple email to sign and send to Nestle <a href="http://www.greenpeace.org.uk/files/po/index.html">here</a>. In this case, I think sending an email is probably worth doing as the campaign is causing yet more bad publicity for Nestle, who could well follow the example set by Unilever and Kraft and cancel contracts with companies involved in forest clearances.</div><div><br /></div><div>Palm oil production is driving the extinction of orangutans, one of the human species closest living relatives. Over 80% of their habitat has already been destroyed and it is estimated that the ape could go extinct in just ten years. They are particularly at risk because of their low reproductive rate; a female matures at ten to fifteen years old and can then give birth only every six to eight years. <a href="http://www.edgeofexistence.org/mammals/species_info.php?id=97">EDGE</a> explains their vulnerability: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">'</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 17px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Many of the remaining populations, particularly in Sumatra number fewer than 250 individuals. These small, isolated populations do not have the capacity to recover from population declines. A slight rise in female mortality rate of just 1-2% can drive a local population to extinction.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">'</span></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge6rzsrm1DwnoQzs4WOkpHfMsz0BOBtocr-eMYs_-BDR9KLj_PichHCyzVjzYWhlORXFPtgNUY-secyb6z14MvBtBeXFc7LRCgT2duBlmKt7ohNEdq5bWHaVjbJoZskF7FGdWo2GcOdJrt/s1600/100271-050-1C92A29E.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge6rzsrm1DwnoQzs4WOkpHfMsz0BOBtocr-eMYs_-BDR9KLj_PichHCyzVjzYWhlORXFPtgNUY-secyb6z14MvBtBeXFc7LRCgT2duBlmKt7ohNEdq5bWHaVjbJoZskF7FGdWo2GcOdJrt/s320/100271-050-1C92A29E.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453250942533943794" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px; " /></a></div>Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-36725709650409882362010-03-08T16:55:00.003+00:002010-03-08T17:33:40.068+00:00Fontainebleau in March<div style="text-align: left;">We spent a long Sunday exploring the forest of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forest_of_Fontainebleau">Fontainebleau</a>. Moving between areas of bright green Scots Pines and stretches of still bare Beeches and Oaks felt a little like passing backwards and forwards between spring and winter.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0daOpaUGgXXQPBhb-GMzlsA6Ig-SQW6Wum8w2WIKLO_V6jl3CK7kQwHpKpp9j8qSy7HJH449dOCXg0zrJ69uXAiKuNlveuyaKTp-eP3-I_SbQUEHplswzFCYuoFpry3mMor_v4VjVVXX/s1600-h/IMG_3307.jpg" style="text-decoration: none; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0daOpaUGgXXQPBhb-GMzlsA6Ig-SQW6Wum8w2WIKLO_V6jl3CK7kQwHpKpp9j8qSy7HJH449dOCXg0zrJ69uXAiKuNlveuyaKTp-eP3-I_SbQUEHplswzFCYuoFpry3mMor_v4VjVVXX/s320/IMG_3307.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446308074622001298" style="text-align: left; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_CAoJNdej6dyzh6Fl8NUkyv7noCz-EtmNpfQZ2M4Hr96IAVDtK4XIP55cT55ATUiezjHUX0moN5k6kKdyaSN7kSwno5J7OizhUgqOehJOEKiE3ITy5bvKfwKMQehW71Thamxvdv6a0Va6/s1600-h/IMG_3301.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_CAoJNdej6dyzh6Fl8NUkyv7noCz-EtmNpfQZ2M4Hr96IAVDtK4XIP55cT55ATUiezjHUX0moN5k6kKdyaSN7kSwno5J7OizhUgqOehJOEKiE3ITy5bvKfwKMQehW71Thamxvdv6a0Va6/s320/IMG_3301.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446308085765939554" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div>Vegetation struggled to break through the thick layers of fallen leaves and needles, but the leaves in the sunlight had their own colour and warmth. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZKhYxrACVhHUXhLxFSa9Bd5TmjwFYJQZKfIMHCdXyW_IZxiyV1XDGLdHvEnMRa8ZUg8wzfGOHx7AhdhV6ps5c29ne5dsty8uDvUYjp41xDMm_833hgW6_UrqPUX-f7yZCZD8sfreqThDA/s1600-h/IMG_3289.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZKhYxrACVhHUXhLxFSa9Bd5TmjwFYJQZKfIMHCdXyW_IZxiyV1XDGLdHvEnMRa8ZUg8wzfGOHx7AhdhV6ps5c29ne5dsty8uDvUYjp41xDMm_833hgW6_UrqPUX-f7yZCZD8sfreqThDA/s320/IMG_3289.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446308106127179906" /></a>The forest's character felt quite changeable, full of hidden pleasures, like these Silver Birches complementing the green Pines.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgrd3jrumOiCb4-M_Y1MbqNB3t4Zxu0ou_YmfSpy9OBfObTSrjM2ZsIhjDHfryvXJGoSB9xGDCed6n9o7p2jHTLa2UNHY5t8QY4nn-96k33UNdzoVKjJ-rKZUcpawMqm9pVzKphYvhfYJx/s1600-h/IMG_3302.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgrd3jrumOiCb4-M_Y1MbqNB3t4Zxu0ou_YmfSpy9OBfObTSrjM2ZsIhjDHfryvXJGoSB9xGDCed6n9o7p2jHTLa2UNHY5t8QY4nn-96k33UNdzoVKjJ-rKZUcpawMqm9pVzKphYvhfYJx/s320/IMG_3302.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446308095234705122" /></a>Curiously shaped rocks attract <a href="http://bleau.info/">boulderers</a>, and we saw some working across the sandstone, or hunting between the trees for challenges, with their mattresses strapped to their backs so that they could cushion the ground beneath their climbs.<div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7pZcjG1T8grm6AFAP7xCjXpZYL5aG-zI-n2iFyYo779AUpPFT0qarFRiSZMtmmhEZZ3oC18byo6vRYkjaH2H4eDltlKlzBAMQOCBzALyCH2C5Kb9iIM48Z1EQi7q9gOqVDw7nKFV67sg6/s1600-h/IMG_3311.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7pZcjG1T8grm6AFAP7xCjXpZYL5aG-zI-n2iFyYo779AUpPFT0qarFRiSZMtmmhEZZ3oC18byo6vRYkjaH2H4eDltlKlzBAMQOCBzALyCH2C5Kb9iIM48Z1EQi7q9gOqVDw7nKFV67sg6/s320/IMG_3311.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446308215577556786" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div>Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-30772966020976827482010-03-03T11:56:00.006+00:002010-03-03T12:15:17.667+00:00A thin city<div style="text-align: left;">At noon on the first Wednesday of every month air raid sirens boom across Paris. The first time I heard this back in November the sound took me by surprise. I looked into the street to see if anything was happening, but all the Montparnassians below me walked calmly on, so I shrugged it off too. Hearing the alarm today, it already sounded familiar. The siren tells you exactly where and when you are: Paris, first Wednesday, 12 noon. But that precise present is shadowed by the city’s past, and fears for the future. The alarms are a test, to ensure that the sirens still work and can be used to warn citizens of danger in the case of future catastrophes. They also recall the dangers Paris has already survived, violence that has taken place here.</div><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFPss6f8YkpKWYuvl9iT-8NDF8cEXN9_1FtHGvpHf7G_B_Yngl98PT3MYiobF3dYinaAgOQCm9h8cZ1IYE8f4yAl4Ys1ceJamDZIRK_brEXi6dKpwVTi-wpyaaJBy4EvECRG80Quqvga6y/s1600-h/696754529_de32ce059d.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFPss6f8YkpKWYuvl9iT-8NDF8cEXN9_1FtHGvpHf7G_B_Yngl98PT3MYiobF3dYinaAgOQCm9h8cZ1IYE8f4yAl4Ys1ceJamDZIRK_brEXi6dKpwVTi-wpyaaJBy4EvECRG80Quqvga6y/s320/696754529_de32ce059d.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444377178432874994" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Victims of the Shoah, named at the Paris Museum of the Shoah (<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aidanmcmichael/696754529/">source</a>)</span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">You can barely walk down a street in this area without encountering a memorial, especially to people killed during the German occupation of 1940-44. On my way to our post office yesterday, for example, I passed a primary school with a plaque above the main door dedicated to the Jewish children taken from that school to the camps. The long unknown history of the house we live in troubles me in a way that of the Victorian house I grew up in never did. I remember that this city has endured revolutions and invasions, that it tests its sirens because of real experience.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Last year I <a href="http://citypollen.blogspot.com/2009/06/neck-of-hourglass.html">blogged about Mircea Cantor’s <i>Monument for the end of the world</i></a>, a sculpture that tries to ‘commemorate’ a future event. I asked whether cities should build monuments not just to events in their past, but to think about lives to come. In a very dark way, the Paris sirens do this. </p><p class="MsoNormal">France is currently recovering from a natural disaster – the weekend’s <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Xynthia_(storm)">storm</a> killed over 50 people in France and swollen tides flooded towns along the Atlantic coast.</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxd8Jze4Al1xeRDYzNDgg4JLupdpyTSzNpoBNbczLNLiDkAIAcnJtiYl2QAtIw85M0bqTztO5cxp68vXZjNrALzobMmtQdRfamtqTnWSnMIeO6RIkTddPs77f6oVDY4DY61YxrGzE41nB_/s1600-h/575x385_1481998_0_73fb_ill-1313182-a1f9-181258.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxd8Jze4Al1xeRDYzNDgg4JLupdpyTSzNpoBNbczLNLiDkAIAcnJtiYl2QAtIw85M0bqTztO5cxp68vXZjNrALzobMmtQdRfamtqTnWSnMIeO6RIkTddPs77f6oVDY4DY61YxrGzE41nB_/s320/575x385_1481998_0_73fb_ill-1313182-a1f9-181258.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444376794814912850" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">L</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">a-Faute-sur-Mer on Monday</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">In the capital we woke to strong winds but no damage. Today the sun is shining brightly, it’s March, spring does finally feel close, and the siren has come and gone. The alarm might be a signal of time’s continuity, its regularity, or perhaps it signals time’s rips, traumas and tears.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-17644020254372406702010-02-28T16:03:00.006+00:002010-02-28T16:18:19.740+00:00A place of safety<div style="text-align: left;">Reading Mark Lynas’s terrifying and vivid depiction of the future on a hotter planet, <i><a href="http://www.marklynas.org/2007/2/3/six-degrees">Six Degrees</a></i><span style="font-style:normal">, one of the most moving moments for me was the dedication to his wife and son ‘in the hope that most of the predictions here need not come true’. The book describes the expected food crises, extinctions and water shortages, and it culminates in an inferno of methane eruptions and stagnant, poisonous oceans. To dedicate such a narrative to your child makes sense – Lynas works to prevent such a future – but it must also have been a very painful thing to do.</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOuc7z6Eksju2D0nQsdPF4IYyOvz_bGb-9VBVx7jR2R1YjVSh1OtlgTiNx1b_DSk4ikvlbggS0kLuEM9z737COBjB7eC5VAAnQgHKH7NqMwTpxyj8wOazWosCAB7nzxpsMpuS_38dSCaDw/s1600-h/9780370329925.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOuc7z6Eksju2D0nQsdPF4IYyOvz_bGb-9VBVx7jR2R1YjVSh1OtlgTiNx1b_DSk4ikvlbggS0kLuEM9z737COBjB7eC5VAAnQgHKH7NqMwTpxyj8wOazWosCAB7nzxpsMpuS_38dSCaDw/s320/9780370329925.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443328607616693506" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 198px; height: 320px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal">I’ve been considering what children hear and think about climate change while reading Kate Thompson’s <i><a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/books/reviews/the-white-horse-trick-by-kate-thompson-1822284.html">The White Horse Trick</a></i><span style="font-style:normal">, a <a href="http://www.artsandecology.rsablogs.org.uk/2010/01/ian-mcewan-can-uk-literary-fiction-ever-do-climate/">young adult novel</a> set at the end of this century in Ireland crippled and dying in the ravaged climate. Dystopia has a strong presence in children’s fiction, and young readers deal with those stories in a similar way to adults: they help us to work through the terror of imagining all the logical consequences of the way we live, from the relative security of a safer present. I was impressed by Thompson’s handling of the issue. She respects her readers’ intelligence and resilience enough to confront us with the full horror of what climate change might mean. Warlords exploit and brutalise the valleys and coasts around the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Burren">Burren</a>, and the future appears so hopeless that there’s no arguing when one character declares, ‘It’s all over for the human race.’ Yet Thompson also provides a place of safety for the reader. Ireland is paralleled by Tir na n’Óg, a timeless kingdom inhabited by fairies. Just as various bedraggled human refugees cross over to this land, Tir na n’Óg also balances the reader’s experience of ecological and social collapse. </span><i>The White Horse Trick</i><span style="font-style:normal"> is the third in a trilogy and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T%C3%ADr_na_n%C3%93g">Tir na n’Óg</a> is well known from Irish folklore, so Thompson did not invent the land for this purpose, but she uses it deftly.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">I did wonder if a refuge like this could be cheating, letting us off the hook. In particular, it allows Thompson to juxtapose human time with geological time, the millennia over which the earth’s ecosystems might recover from what we’ve done to them. This recalls arguments made by people who have run out of ways to deny climate change’s reality, so declare that the earth will survive even if humans don’t, as though the suffering in between doesn’t matter. But in Thompson’s book the suffering does matter, so the effect of her reassurance is different. I found that having access to a place of safety while reading about climate change allowed me to experience a greater range of emotions than I usually have when reading about this subject. It was a surprise. Perhaps I’d come to feel that anger, sorrow and despair are the only legitimate emotions for the subject to provoke, but in a children’s book that wouldn’t feel right. As an adult, it was oddly refreshing to face the collapse of human society from this novel’s fantastical perspective.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-5548132753024834692010-02-23T21:00:00.002+00:002010-02-23T21:04:15.029+00:00How Wang-Fo was saved<div>An beautiful tale about art and reality, based on a story by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marguerite_Yourcenar">Marguerite Yourcenar</a>:</div><div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/L2aNrQmGtxQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/L2aNrQmGtxQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div><div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dnghG8cvhhQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dnghG8cvhhQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div>Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-79396297355439153372010-02-14T14:54:00.005+00:002010-02-14T15:30:13.184+00:00May they sing when they wake<div style="text-align: left;">I’ve been neglecting the blog recently while finishing work on a novel, which has left me verbally exhausted. It’s nearly complete, and in the meantime here are some photos I took alongside the Seine today.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-ZMGuL9KYPCSu6n6-NhTLCfosNXeavsPyjdv9rrgJWU83kl3fM5KODvG19iY2x1JcxlDyKlw2YfvufZ4NpEAYgITM78ShmY6URTKG_v5D81UlrGRRsM6kGzDgOrfNYe9woxsF_qY4BeM/s1600-h/IMG_3220.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-ZMGuL9KYPCSu6n6-NhTLCfosNXeavsPyjdv9rrgJWU83kl3fM5KODvG19iY2x1JcxlDyKlw2YfvufZ4NpEAYgITM78ShmY6URTKG_v5D81UlrGRRsM6kGzDgOrfNYe9woxsF_qY4BeM/s400/IMG_3220.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438118983169985858" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal">St Valentine’s day is traditionally the day the birds choose their mates.</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyHYscoR_M0egQ5dNETJbokJT6UsEmJGS_BsMYmUpfxYTfnwjGqpZfqBdLo2sZPg1PunEBf5rRYkOyKfrMHZdx8uhTGbuiMHpVU0HXamt4CpstruMzn2G1tw_sluwv03Xfxi710ceSh8_B/s1600-h/IMG_3224.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyHYscoR_M0egQ5dNETJbokJT6UsEmJGS_BsMYmUpfxYTfnwjGqpZfqBdLo2sZPg1PunEBf5rRYkOyKfrMHZdx8uhTGbuiMHpVU0HXamt4CpstruMzn2G1tw_sluwv03Xfxi710ceSh8_B/s400/IMG_3224.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438118696511938306" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal">In Chaucer’s <i><a href="http://omacl.org/Parliament/">Parlement of Foules</a></i><span style="font-style:normal"> the birds sing in praise of nature today (the song was written in France, according to Chaucer):</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"> </span></span></span>‘Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That hast this wintres weders over-shake,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And driven awey the longe nightes blake!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">‘Saynt Valentyn, that art ful hy on-lofte;</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Thus singen smale foules for thy sake -</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That hast this wintres weders over-shake.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">‘Wel han they cause for to gladen ofte,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sith ech of hem recovered hath his make;</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ful blisful may they singen whan they wake;</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That hast this wintres weders over-shake,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And driven away the longe nightes blake.’*</span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The summer sun has not quite shaken off winter weather here, but it was melting these icicles beneath the bridges:</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ccRI_gvv78byKG9wzMjXf6NwIenICfNyN3CkmidwbhZfjjgN_ObiC72uAXnm-iDj0f_7fF2Ik1yHh_JJ300vU-7E_PG-rky35hakZWQx6bh-rgf1iCTrsNlIxPjSqCWSgy85b786_fyS/s1600-h/IMG_3227.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ccRI_gvv78byKG9wzMjXf6NwIenICfNyN3CkmidwbhZfjjgN_ObiC72uAXnm-iDj0f_7fF2Ik1yHh_JJ300vU-7E_PG-rky35hakZWQx6bh-rgf1iCTrsNlIxPjSqCWSgy85b786_fyS/s400/IMG_3227.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438118693639151522" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal">The birches along the promenade bear the marks of many passing lovers:</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir286PXWCxGCxEk7NSNRY9G20T8pZt-siHlul80KGdFqyNEYaD82XVF0PfxfPTfaU6-P4NFNfOHzP1SqsXskRTxob-cAaCy_m4Ev5e5z1wiuB-nu6qCGfJ0jhRGLMLhS-ZPRDAGJw9943s/s1600-h/IMG_3239.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir286PXWCxGCxEk7NSNRY9G20T8pZt-siHlul80KGdFqyNEYaD82XVF0PfxfPTfaU6-P4NFNfOHzP1SqsXskRTxob-cAaCy_m4Ev5e5z1wiuB-nu6qCGfJ0jhRGLMLhS-ZPRDAGJw9943s/s400/IMG_3239.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438118689811896098" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal">Their bark has become hieroglyphic with names and dates:</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBLNModSJsFMoct6ohsEc6MTPZnKl25ZXUH79qJAv2MrzgF5QRd4pI1dHr33BR3RlTKBgHsj9AB7FobVT0XdtlSB8aNwlP29FU4t5VrYLItvDrfbTmyShZyy5usb2JakMBKYnb7dEibVkg/s1600-h/IMG_3241.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBLNModSJsFMoct6ohsEc6MTPZnKl25ZXUH79qJAv2MrzgF5QRd4pI1dHr33BR3RlTKBgHsj9AB7FobVT0XdtlSB8aNwlP29FU4t5VrYLItvDrfbTmyShZyy5usb2JakMBKYnb7dEibVkg/s400/IMG_3241.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438118685554510370" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal">* A sketchy translation:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Now welcome summer, with your soft sun</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That has overcome this winter weather,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And driven away the long black nights!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Saint Valentine, who is upheld so high,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So sing the small birds for your sake –</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Now welcome summer, with your soft sun</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That has overcome this winter weather.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Well have they cause to cheer often,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Since each of them has recovered his mate;</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Fully happy may they sing when they wake;</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Now welcome summer with your soft sun</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That has overcome this winter weather,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And driven away the long black nights.</span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-81594835475803409162010-01-26T17:09:00.006+00:002010-01-26T17:34:15.605+00:00Writing like a dying anthill<div style="text-align: left;">The biologist <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Osborne_Wilson">E. O. Wilson</a> published <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/features/2010/01/25/100125fi_fiction_wilson">a fascinating story</a> in The New Yorker this week depicting the life of an ant colony, using a literary narrative style generally reserved for human subjects. Wilson is an accomplished writer and scientist, as I’ve said before in posting about his account of ‘<a href="http://citypollen.blogspot.com/2009/03/biophilia.html">biophilia</a>’, the idea that humans are instinctively attracted to life in all forms. His story, ‘Trailhead’, conjures the routines and dramas of life in the ants’ nest. It provides scientific insights without losing narrative tension, recalling Rachel Carson’s <i><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Sea-wind-Penguin-Classics-Rachel-Carson/dp/0143104969">Under the Sea-Wind</a></i><span style="font-style:normal"> and Brian Clarke’s </span><i><a href="http://citypollen.blogspot.com/2009/08/living-rivers.html">The Stream</a></i><span style="font-style:normal">.</span></div> <p class="MsoNormal">One of the difficulties in Wilson’s project is the question of how to imagine or talk about ants’ motivations and desires in human language. Wilson is careful to write in terms of instinctive reactions and pheromone signals. It may not be possible or desirable to write about other species without any anthropomorphism, but in ‘Trailhead’ Wilson at least tries to be as accurate as possible in his description of the ants’ sensory language. Usually he represents ants’ behaviour as simple fact, but he does not try disguise the way in which human perspective inevitably colours the tale, as in this description of ant-altruism:</p> <p class="MsoNormal">‘Dying workers often left the nest completely, thereby avoiding the spread of infectious diseases. Older workers who were healthy but approaching the end of their natural life span also emigrated to the nest perimeter. From there, they often became foragers, exposing themselves to a much higher risk from enemies. When defending the nest, the elders were among the most suicidally aggressive. They were obedient to a simple truth that separates our two species: humans send their young men to war; ants send their old ladies.’</p> <p class="MsoNormal">[WARNING: SPOILERS BELOW]</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHHFXl3jOM1IQLkocAN4VPQfDJiUcB6HPst3MjWjxKHSU0kedae07pdfevDqWFEu0y_A4q-uQxS2HvPlNY-mbF43rs9GDGP05kfCwPQRp7M8c9SNY_xqQOuw_RIOEa0nlxg5ywWrbALlbv/s1600-h/100125_r19257_p233.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHHFXl3jOM1IQLkocAN4VPQfDJiUcB6HPst3MjWjxKHSU0kedae07pdfevDqWFEu0y_A4q-uQxS2HvPlNY-mbF43rs9GDGP05kfCwPQRp7M8c9SNY_xqQOuw_RIOEa0nlxg5ywWrbALlbv/s400/100125_r19257_p233.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431099073035150898" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 233px; height: 262px; " /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The story centres upon the decline of the colony following the queen’s death, which is reported in the first sentence. The collapse gathers pace towards the end, culminating in a shocking scene of warfare, panic and horror.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">‘Within a week, the colony began to starve. The nurse ants killed and cannibalized the last of the larvae and pupae, their own baby nest mates, and regurgitated their liquid and tissue to other adults… <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In the confusion that reigned through the night, the Trailhead Colony felt—it knew—that it was in extreme difficulty. It had no conception of defeat, but the nest interior was filled with the odor of alarm and recruitment pheromones released by both sides during the attempted Streamsider break-in. The fighters were contaminated by the alien odor of the invaders. They could see the battle flags of the enemy, so to speak; they could hear the continuous shriek of alarms.’</p> <p class="MsoNormal">From the beginning<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>of the story we understand the colony is doomed, but the ants continue to pursue survival, even coronating queens whose eggs are unfertilised. Why did Wilson choose to publish a story about a tenacious, ingenious struggle to survive that never has any possibility of success? We expect to read about another species’ life, but he also shows us death. </p><p class="MsoNormal">The process of life and death in the story is entirely natural, but Wilson's choice of focus may be no surprise given his powerful account of the current mass extinction caused by human activity in <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Future-Life-Edward-O-Wilson/dp/0679450785">The Future of Life</a></i><span style="font-style:normal">. Interestingly, Wilson's language becomes most anthropocentric in discussing the superorganism’s collapse:</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">‘Lamentation and hope were mingled among the Trailhead inhabitants. The ants were a doomed people in a besieged city. Their unity of purpose was gone, their social machinery halted. No foraging, no cleaning and feeding of larvae, no queen for them to rally around. The order of the colony was dissolving. Out there, indomitable and waiting, were the hated, filthy, unformicid Streamsiders. Finally, all that the Trailheaders knew was terror, and the existence of a choice—they could fight or run from the horror.’</p><p class="MsoNormal">At the risk of reckless misreading, his thought-provoking story might not look out of place over on the <a href="http://www.dark-mountain.net/wordpress/2009/12/07/the-inadequacy-of-hope/">Dark Mountain website</a>.</p> <!--EndFragment-->Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-31242314287811466462010-01-19T20:51:00.003+00:002010-01-19T21:20:18.432+00:00Literary anger<div style="text-align: left;">Over at Arts and Ecology, William Shaw is warming up for the arrival of Ian McEwan’s coming novel, <i>Solar</i><span style="font-style:normal">, by asking <a href="http://www.artsandecology.rsablogs.org.uk/2010/01/ian-mcewan-can-uk-literary-fiction-ever-do-climate/">can literary fiction ever do climate change</a>? I <a href="http://citypollen.blogspot.com/2009/07/dark-mountain.html">share</a> the doubts about </span><span><i>Solar</i> but do think that there are good ‘literary’ novelists writing about climate change directly, <a href="http://www.oryxandcrake.co.uk/">Margaret Atwood</a>, <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Stone-Gods-Jeanette-Winterson/dp/0241143950">Jeanette Winterson</a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Carhullan-Army-Sarah-Hall/dp/057123660X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1263935564&sr=1-1">Sarah Hall</a> for a start. All three <a href="http://citypollen.blogspot.com/2009/07/where-are-women.html">women</a> have written novels set in futures decimated by climate change. Whether their novels are literary fiction or science fiction is less important to me than the vivid, engaged storytelling. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Sarah Hall in particular writes about human relationships with nature with feeling, intelligence and fury, a great combination. In <i>The Carhullan Army </i><span style="font-style:normal">she imagines Britain wrecked by oil shortages and floods in the near future. Her narrator escapes bleak authoritarianism of town life for female commune on the Cumbrian moors, yet there’s no escape from violence.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTTf5MZfvQHDtMZ_SU9hyphenhyphenE3nOO2lMqfGuNGYZj3CTRDIpIe1yr2GHpwkP2PrxJglFP4zwcbA_lnfClzPVMSZTXNsQj5Zf3mtJLBVZRpqLdmzrpARzEczKbHL2ULiNR-cVNn-vh0h_cfwXV/s1600-h/large10.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTTf5MZfvQHDtMZ_SU9hyphenhyphenE3nOO2lMqfGuNGYZj3CTRDIpIe1yr2GHpwkP2PrxJglFP4zwcbA_lnfClzPVMSZTXNsQj5Zf3mtJLBVZRpqLdmzrpARzEczKbHL2ULiNR-cVNn-vh0h_cfwXV/s400/large10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428558739621067218" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Haweswater</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Hall has said that the <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/local/cumbria/hi/people_and_places/history/newsid_8439000/8439211.stm">Cumbrian floods</a> of 2005 inspired <i>The Carhullan Army. </i>H<span style="font-style:normal">er first novel, </span><i><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Haweswater-Sarah-Hall/dp/0571209300/ref=pd_bxgy_b_img_b">Haweswater</a></i><span style="font-style:normal">, anticipated those floods and is for me in many ways the more interesting novel. It explores the same Cumbrian landscape, showing the stark beauty of villagers’ lives in the valley of Mardale. People, time and place are torn apart by the arrival of a representative for Manchester Waterworks who announces plans to flood the land to create a reservoir. The casual destruction of the whole valley is based on reality, vividly dramatised in the novel. The personal and the ecological intertwine through the tragedy Hall depicts. As a historical novel, </span><i>Haweswater</i><span style="font-style:normal"> is not about climate change, but it is an impressive portrayal of human impact on landscape, and shows how fruitful this subject is for ‘literary’ writers. Most of importantly, the novel has none of McEwan's diffidence about ideas: it’s bold, roaring.</span><i><o:p></o:p></i></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-42819864074335228852010-01-17T15:29:00.015+00:002010-01-17T16:26:02.064+00:002010 is Year of Biodiversity<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ANtCliVZpIQQcluNwRCR-hF6YKOQcpTFH7pUz2tF9sFjTJm9ktZP_xmbalM4e6Tw3XUwFbiEpdvcKGUhyCFcUX4CVrvq-kQEES0L6EW_MszzUXTT7CXhe5sq4KKCEi2utAV7he4o91MO/s1600-h/iyb-logo-en.png"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ANtCliVZpIQQcluNwRCR-hF6YKOQcpTFH7pUz2tF9sFjTJm9ktZP_xmbalM4e6Tw3XUwFbiEpdvcKGUhyCFcUX4CVrvq-kQEES0L6EW_MszzUXTT7CXhe5sq4KKCEi2utAV7he4o91MO/s400/iyb-logo-en.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427732673281476114" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 155px; " /></a></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div>The United Nations has <a href="http://www.cbd.int/2010/welcome/">declared</a> 2010 to be 'Year of Biodiversity', in an effort to spread this message:<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">'</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic; line-height: 17px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Humans are part of nature’s rich diversity and have the power to protect or destroy it.</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic; line-height: 17px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica;"><p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Arial, Helvetica; border-top-width: medium; border-right-width: medium; border-bottom-width: medium; border-left-width: medium; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br />Biodiversity, the variety of life on Earth, is essential to sustaining the living networks and systems that provide us all with health, wealth, food, fuel and the vital services our lives depend on.</span><p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Arial, Helvetica; border-top-width: medium; border-right-width: medium; border-bottom-width: medium; border-left-width: medium; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br />Human activity is causing the diversity of life on Earth to be lost at a greatly accelerated rate. These losses are irreversible, impoverish us all and damage the life support systems we rely on everyday. But we can prevent them.</span><p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Arial, Helvetica; border-top-width: medium; border-right-width: medium; border-bottom-width: medium; border-left-width: medium; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br />2010 is the International Year of Biodiversity. Let’s reflect on our achievements to safeguard biodiversity and focus on the urgency of our challenge for the future. Now is the time to act.'</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; line-height: normal; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbfmJzAYy5S4bimK4M2Xt4rR00A0bWAg4pw2U3G5i-9hb0PR4zrkHgHmZL1ERMCQ96wY0q7SxITfOJity1XvC2rmRV-3_wrzGWFfQ7No2YwJ7bhOlofyhDZRL4wRDutt5qlNJh6_X4XBq/s1600-h/iyb-waza-poster.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbfmJzAYy5S4bimK4M2Xt4rR00A0bWAg4pw2U3G5i-9hb0PR4zrkHgHmZL1ERMCQ96wY0q7SxITfOJity1XvC2rmRV-3_wrzGWFfQ7No2YwJ7bhOlofyhDZRL4wRDutt5qlNJh6_X4XBq/s400/iyb-waza-poster.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427739762904519474" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></i></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>What having a 'Year of' achieves, I'm not sure, but the message is important.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWTOsJXRp31jsqeh_RbUTGG4-XZeho45-lBLWtERZEfk0K7irhJOx32mhW_BzL5plbC-FOKcPdqIXkMchLEIwNxuU5lBSAJg9a07VUzijLT2WvI_kx0yO0bBKz_SpzXniY6VIQpK2KhR4o/s1600-h/A-glass-frog-from-western-006.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWTOsJXRp31jsqeh_RbUTGG4-XZeho45-lBLWtERZEfk0K7irhJOx32mhW_BzL5plbC-FOKcPdqIXkMchLEIwNxuU5lBSAJg9a07VUzijLT2WvI_kx0yO0bBKz_SpzXniY6VIQpK2KhR4o/s400/A-glass-frog-from-western-006.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427737389006514610" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">A glass frog, whose heart can be seen through the skin (Photo: Paul S. Hamilton)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Beautiful pictures from Ecuador in the Guardian this week revealed some of the astonishing species we have yet to meet. They are, however, <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2010/jan/15/ecuador-new-species-discovered">threatened by logging and climate change</a> (see also, <a href="http://citypollen.blogspot.com/2009/03/save-frogs.html">here</a>). </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDV1toiPCXASCYomBLbOMnwpr4njmtvY895d8IERDpz7TeqYPdL3HT48uysPMWPUMsGCWpPgS4cHgYxA_71rujnio0nB_0O1DRXYRFIAsMcpYQxLJIEUm_QWWXEmz8AxP9vYYLYrXh3Hnj/s1600-h/This-tiny-scaly-eyed-geck-004.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDV1toiPCXASCYomBLbOMnwpr4njmtvY895d8IERDpz7TeqYPdL3HT48uysPMWPUMsGCWpPgS4cHgYxA_71rujnio0nB_0O1DRXYRFIAsMcpYQxLJIEUm_QWWXEmz8AxP9vYYLYrXh3Hnj/s400/This-tiny-scaly-eyed-geck-004.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427737952123599266" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">A scaly-eyed gecko (Photo: Paul S. Hamilton)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I thought today I'd recall some already <a href="http://ajanlo.kapu.hu/pics.php?d=wwf">classic WWF posters</a> dramatising the ways in which we are thrusting other species from their homes and threatening our own. They're images of things out of place, manipulated in a high contrast style that has an apocalyptic register. Some of the texts on the images struggle to match the proportion of the scene's drama (below, 'Do your bit', or <a href="http://ajanlo.kapu.hu/pics.php?d=wwf">elsewhere</a>, buy a hybrid). The question 'Where is your home?' works best for me:</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRKhkHRLR-lMrkp6BwyVm02NsSkDoW_jKYrLC9d_v-aPGPZdbmAwhDrsy2A0-0K7pzfZhCsT0N3iqIVKdajWezubmPl3j3wBm05_gY6A9OQ4f7P5Oa52_lSaIy4DzX5wAD4XPN8skAxtvL/s1600-h/wwf_32.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRKhkHRLR-lMrkp6BwyVm02NsSkDoW_jKYrLC9d_v-aPGPZdbmAwhDrsy2A0-0K7pzfZhCsT0N3iqIVKdajWezubmPl3j3wBm05_gY6A9OQ4f7P5Oa52_lSaIy4DzX5wAD4XPN8skAxtvL/s400/wwf_32.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427741435233347954" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 287px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEPauWHURZ2R6gFtjQzfkqy-ism7vROPlQjo7-DGEZ7OakasrazhJDvJPLtJwFhBQzj-9rzP3jLRArz8keHVzWp207H3jMz8XZ2THCw1tpj8e3UZT_lq4BtZIH-OV-6S_aEyqyUuLU4KJ/s1600-h/wwf_25.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEPauWHURZ2R6gFtjQzfkqy-ism7vROPlQjo7-DGEZ7OakasrazhJDvJPLtJwFhBQzj-9rzP3jLRArz8keHVzWp207H3jMz8XZ2THCw1tpj8e3UZT_lq4BtZIH-OV-6S_aEyqyUuLU4KJ/s400/wwf_25.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427738743244987858" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 247px; " /></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5nV_wNmtTDJpWprC8yNcahMSxZh1vSM0sPiMim9hPDKXJuTloYypak8omT7CnOxnmtY7uaGQlF5a2wzG1LVub_gld0nozzNy-rXsGZNhcUnnB38qbzD8dB_9JTI1RyfH3tW9y6xQ1HRKC/s1600-h/wwf_31.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5nV_wNmtTDJpWprC8yNcahMSxZh1vSM0sPiMim9hPDKXJuTloYypak8omT7CnOxnmtY7uaGQlF5a2wzG1LVub_gld0nozzNy-rXsGZNhcUnnB38qbzD8dB_9JTI1RyfH3tW9y6xQ1HRKC/s400/wwf_31.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427738751523835026" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 196px; " /></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYec6l5xW1wLheBYkxEUAlvKfyBY844pfumpsYyc_cvBTlR99CkrhoQpwA0vVfIpIy5zVTZbfIB8VuTeH2WtYoxbA0RxpgzseOYvV-QySL2B-eMt2mK7zOSwNCOMOcn9P9OToit0TNnO9q/s1600-h/wwf_24.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYec6l5xW1wLheBYkxEUAlvKfyBY844pfumpsYyc_cvBTlR99CkrhoQpwA0vVfIpIy5zVTZbfIB8VuTeH2WtYoxbA0RxpgzseOYvV-QySL2B-eMt2mK7zOSwNCOMOcn9P9OToit0TNnO9q/s400/wwf_24.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427738747900225570" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisL-kNwvrP0Lyvk6z4VosmEHrUWfhixgoxepBAENKTHW5Lz-XciJ1FRlTqIKvd9zBHj6c3rk0jYaKCvjZfJNlc8Flt9whyJsHkUFZJXXLo6Nb61xCj6Yi25v1rifjesC6xR4cSYSFrr6qg/s1600-h/wwf_27.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisL-kNwvrP0Lyvk6z4VosmEHrUWfhixgoxepBAENKTHW5Lz-XciJ1FRlTqIKvd9zBHj6c3rk0jYaKCvjZfJNlc8Flt9whyJsHkUFZJXXLo6Nb61xCj6Yi25v1rifjesC6xR4cSYSFrr6qg/s400/wwf_27.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427738767277684306" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 276px; " /></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcTPRL0r2RQaP9uqQS5J8orUJKp4D6CyPSewCTfKgtHLbXIfYOV1AI03mGXHAOz7NvApQx2zXMxq4h4a43vepiGAzqSbJnk2t1cfJzsrx3BlngC0AmNyA7wp1HoRfEY6fCi3cxvVz4NrzA/s1600-h/wwf_12.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcTPRL0r2RQaP9uqQS5J8orUJKp4D6CyPSewCTfKgtHLbXIfYOV1AI03mGXHAOz7NvApQx2zXMxq4h4a43vepiGAzqSbJnk2t1cfJzsrx3BlngC0AmNyA7wp1HoRfEY6fCi3cxvVz4NrzA/s400/wwf_12.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427739765430988274" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 296px; " /></a></div>Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-87535355076343615412010-01-10T16:28:00.008+00:002010-01-10T17:20:14.689+00:00Vampires: an anti-nature fantasy?<div style="text-align: left;">This weekend, still malingering indoors because of the Europe-wide freeze, I finally watched creepy and excellent Swedish vampire movie <i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1139797/">Let the Right One In</a></i><span style="font-style:normal">. In an effort to exorcise that film’s ugly under-the-skin nastiness I’m taking a good look at vampires today, from an ecological perspective, naturally. Vampires are absurdly popular just now, mostly because of the extraordinary success of the multi-million best-selling <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture/twilight">Twilight</a> franchise. <a href="http://www.languagemonitor.com/news/top-words-of-2009">According to some complex alogarithms</a> ‘vampire’ was the 5<sup>th</sup> most popular word of 2009. And ‘<a href="http://www.languagemonitor.com/top_word_lists/top-words-of-the-decade-2000-2009">climate change</a>’ is the top phrase of the decade. Which surely raises the question, is there a link?</span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In their first wave of Victorian popularity vampires represented some aspects of nature that humans feared. Vampires were animalistic dwellers in darkness. They could transform into bats and dogs. Having given up their souls they were free to take survival of the fittest to new levels of selfish brutality, which Victorians worried might be a consequence of the collapse of religion (possibly). But most of the evidence suggests that vampires are anti-nature:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p><ul><li>They are undead, not living or dead; this is quite unnatural.</li><li>They don’t breathe (no signs of various other normal bodily functions either, except for eating and sex).</li><li>They’re cold, hard and generally unmammalian despite their mammal origins.</li><li>Their natural enemies are werewolves (see <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0320691/">Underworld</a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1259571/">New Moon</a>), who embody the wild, animalistic side of human nature.</li></ul><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Stephanie Myers’ bestseller list domination made me curious enough to find my inner teenage girl (admittedly, this is not difficult) and read <i>Twilight</i><span style="font-style:normal">, so I also know that modern vampires like fast cars, are very consumerist and have no conscience about taking long haul flights.</span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv7TXKMxWN1JjZomMrEOVrQD-xWL6gbc8dycasQPj8VYudhRqWyGG12gNYIeBr1wkK6jW6Ec80xHfk95UDwro1JRLqy6hmEOuGFmwIwck6QT0knGVHyZNo1BCbT_JVl84ky-9HxnA3aRYz/s1600-h/Twilight-208-Edit-large.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv7TXKMxWN1JjZomMrEOVrQD-xWL6gbc8dycasQPj8VYudhRqWyGG12gNYIeBr1wkK6jW6Ec80xHfk95UDwro1JRLqy6hmEOuGFmwIwck6QT0knGVHyZNo1BCbT_JVl84ky-9HxnA3aRYz/s320/Twilight-208-Edit-large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425152862984676114" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Twilight: Don't be fooled: this vampire is not a tree-hugger.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Why are vampires so popular now? Mostly, <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2009/nov/13/twilight-vampires-teenage-girls">it’s about sex</a>. But might their status as the anti-nature monster also have something to do with it? In the nineteenth century vampire stories spoke to cultural fears about <a href="http://www.thefword.org.uk/features/2009/09/feminism_and_th">female sexuality</a> but also about colonialism. The vampire is a classic parasite so it was logical for Dracula to set up camp in London, heart of the British Empire, in his efforts to expand his blood-draining super-race. Today’s vampire stories might just be speaking to our fears that we are parasitically draining the world of its natural resources, transforming ourselves into an unnatural simulacrum of humanity in the process.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1xVWSbQHLCgVD6p50akbWIhLO6L2f6z4QbpiTigV1vatpWkPWwtldLuAuaaJvGnR9fKLSvwghSJxELTxflt_BSIIZEv78pHmOUGzKpdrmHZILSXN5Xytov0hXb6qsowtU1hYRO3OLxch/s1600-h/let-the-right-one-in-big--123926423799839600.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1xVWSbQHLCgVD6p50akbWIhLO6L2f6z4QbpiTigV1vatpWkPWwtldLuAuaaJvGnR9fKLSvwghSJxELTxflt_BSIIZEv78pHmOUGzKpdrmHZILSXN5Xytov0hXb6qsowtU1hYRO3OLxch/s320/let-the-right-one-in-big--123926423799839600.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425152435223472162" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Let the Right One In: Also not about tree huggers</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Even though vampires are decidedly unnatural beings, the current wave of novels, films and TV series like <i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0844441/">True Blood</a></i><span style="font-style:normal"> find them irresistibly attractive. Twilight and co are </span><i>romances</i><span style="font-style:normal"> and they provoke bewildering passion in some readers. Vampires are multi-layered, and most of their appeal is in their strong appetites and freedom from social rules, but I wonder if we also see ourselves in their inversion of natural processes. Part of us does want to be better than nature, and in loving vampires we try to escape natural limitations. </span><i>Let the Right One In</i><span style="font-style:normal">’s deep creepiness seemed to me to come from the way it depicts human attraction to vampires. Vampires see themselves as top of the food chain, but being top of the food chain makes them parasites and a touch of sunlight makes them nothing at all (at least until Meyers started spreading all this sparkling in the sunlight nonsense).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-65430004467979053142010-01-02T18:14:00.006+00:002010-01-02T19:13:54.755+00:00Les Nymphéas<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijotWodBDr4rB6D66tFoKyvTm5Sfzq4xCWQLZPBlExoChqjBR96G1rPBJSFhBlZW_xdVQum-N-tcIujNbGTeIcx6_F0C_r1D8PD9Lr6X2Y7aNIu0iCbTXwQaIXTjzoShIUUtRrnAr-tZkB/s1600-h/vert.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 143px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijotWodBDr4rB6D66tFoKyvTm5Sfzq4xCWQLZPBlExoChqjBR96G1rPBJSFhBlZW_xdVQum-N-tcIujNbGTeIcx6_F0C_r1D8PD9Lr6X2Y7aNIu0iCbTXwQaIXTjzoShIUUtRrnAr-tZkB/s400/vert.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422209505839545058" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(<a href="http://www.musee-orangerie.fr/homes/home_cartes_postales.htm">Claude Monet, </a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a href="http://www.musee-orangerie.fr/homes/home_cartes_postales.htm">Reflets verts</a></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">)</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">About a week before Solstice, with December at its greyest, I went to visit Monet’s water lily paintings (<i>Les Nymphéas</i><span style="font-style:normal">) at <a href="http://www.musee-orangerie.fr/">The Orangerie</a>. The paintings curve around the walls of <a href="http://www.musee-orangerie.fr/homes/home_id25184_u1l2.htm">two large oval rooms</a> and drench the space with colour. The paintings show the water at different times of day and year. In <a href="http://www.musee-orangerie.fr/homes/home_id25184_u1l2.htm">the second room</a> each view is framed by willows and the water’s blue runs through the trees’ trunks.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG38o0K-2gZvIn81iDofNQ3H4C0DzkL_hVHHwXlChpLIfLHKU7Ej3Vv4XklpsvcnsCxsA4qiLzBzjm4RJiN1oKCPNb8HrF3vn9pMZm2Jjd3yul-gwXTbjCcMtvkAJ9NW-GzzAj32uQHLou/s1600-h/nympheas+1.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG38o0K-2gZvIn81iDofNQ3H4C0DzkL_hVHHwXlChpLIfLHKU7Ej3Vv4XklpsvcnsCxsA4qiLzBzjm4RJiN1oKCPNb8HrF3vn9pMZm2Jjd3yul-gwXTbjCcMtvkAJ9NW-GzzAj32uQHLou/s400/nympheas+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422207759221441906" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 145px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(<a href="http://www.musee-orangerie.fr/homes/home_cartes_postales.htm">Monet, </a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a href="http://www.musee-orangerie.fr/homes/home_cartes_postales.htm">Le Matin aux saules</a></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">)</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">It’s difficult to convey on a screen the scale of the paintings, which are 2 metres high and up to 17 metres broad. Their great width and encircling shape immerses the viewer in the substance of the water. You cannot take it all in at once, nor distinguish surface, depths and reflected sky through his layered colours.</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGWbB1yOUM43SBeEBw4PboBlSmykfdlVGJAOOHEdnPgvrOzBRqAJ_Bk0_lFWDuNAEFEumZygA-ZWsV4UTzUHG2xSUtzBf_hqV6DPTxJUFldNMnrzNgRNyoJFNTFyayS3GgxHaExHwJQhFk/s1600-h/nypheas+shadow.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGWbB1yOUM43SBeEBw4PboBlSmykfdlVGJAOOHEdnPgvrOzBRqAJ_Bk0_lFWDuNAEFEumZygA-ZWsV4UTzUHG2xSUtzBf_hqV6DPTxJUFldNMnrzNgRNyoJFNTFyayS3GgxHaExHwJQhFk/s400/nypheas+shadow.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422208003035895074" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 146px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">(<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a href="http://www.musee-orangerie.fr/homes/home_cartes_postales.htm">Monet, </a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a href="http://www.musee-orangerie.fr/homes/home_cartes_postales.htm">Reflets d’arbres</a></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">)</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">I was struck on this visit with the thought that Monet was painting his own garden pond to produce these images, and yet he represented the place very large. There’s a slight sense of disproportion looking at size of the leaves and walking around the space the paintings are designed to take. Nature feels bigger than usual. Monet spent the last thirty years of his life painting these scenes, completing the Orangerie <i>Les Nymphéas</i><span style="font-style:normal"> in his eighties. He suffered at this time from cataracts and distorted vision, but the paintings suggest his ability to immerse himself in the substance of nature within one particular place. Perhaps he came to see that the water, the willows and lily leaves were boundless.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGR27WbN38p_7j3QrK-k0ItF0NDF5UnPTnn-_VkbtoOkHejK02l6NEh-nUCSreSe93QSXIt1qdf9c_IMSeVJLURTkCOzlLCQ1rL_VsXCJRMjrtJah_TsS9MjH19MGK-jKWEk3nMF8SaD4u/s1600-h/nympheas+iris.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGR27WbN38p_7j3QrK-k0ItF0NDF5UnPTnn-_VkbtoOkHejK02l6NEh-nUCSreSe93QSXIt1qdf9c_IMSeVJLURTkCOzlLCQ1rL_VsXCJRMjrtJah_TsS9MjH19MGK-jKWEk3nMF8SaD4u/s400/nympheas+iris.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422207999069843314" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 146px; " /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(<a href="http://www.musee-orangerie.fr/homes/home_cartes_postales.htm">Monet, </a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a href="http://www.musee-orangerie.fr/homes/home_cartes_postales.htm">Soleil couchant</a></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">)</span></span></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-69296653311126928222009-12-20T12:32:00.003+00:002009-12-20T12:46:56.406+00:00The stripped earth<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">This week I’ve been to see two movies with the same question at their heart, what might humans do when the earth is stripped of all life other than ourselves? <i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0898367/">The Road</a></i><span style="font-style:normal"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0898367/"> </a>and </span><i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0499549/">Avatar</a></i><span style="font-style:normal"> may not appear to have much in common but in both the biosphere is a major character. </span><i>The Road </i><span style="font-style:normal">is a harrowing depiction of a world extinct of all life apart from brutalised human wreckage surviving on cans and other remains they find left over from before the disaster. The film is faithful to the brilliantly written novel and conveys something of the horror of a world without ecosystems. There’s no suggestion that humans are responsible for the change; we can speculate about super-volcanoes and asteroids but what matters is the experience of a world without life. I admire </span><i>The Road</i><span style="font-style:normal"> and especially Cormac McCarthy’s spare, biblically inflected prose, but for me the story is riven by ecophobia and articulates some too-familiar Western myths. McCarthy writes frontier novels, Man against Nature. </span><i>The Road </i><span style="font-style:normal">finds redemption in love between the Father and Son, and in the Son’s love for humanity (the weak mother is jettisoned early).</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Where <i>The Road </i><span style="font-style:normal">envisions a grey-brown dead world, </span><i>Avatar</i><span style="font-style:normal"> discovers a planet brimming with green, filled with startling bioluminescent creatures suggestive of our ocean organisms. Having stripped Earth of life, humans are recklessly mining the new world, Pandora, and murdering the native People in the process. Critics have slammed the movie for silliness and sermons. The People talk a lot about the flow of energy moving through all living things. Helpfully, they can directly experience this flow by plugging into trees, birds, horses and so on with a bunch of tentacles growing amongst their hair (what a great idea, I thought – if we could tell stories that do that…). Needless to say, the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaia_hypothesis">Gaian</a> sermons did not trouble me and since I watched the movie in 3D I was happily immersed in it throughout. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Avatar</i><span style="font-style:normal"> is another redemption movie, and again the redemption comes from a Great White Male. The filmmakers have not sought new stories; presumably <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dances_with_Wolves">the white-man-goes-native plot</a> is supposed to allow us to identify with the hero and not the evil planet-destroying corporate men and mercenaries. Even so, the eco-message is sound and enjoyably conveyed. The cinema audience broke into spontaneous applause at the end. I guess it’s obvious that </span><i>The Road</i><span style="font-style:normal"> is a ‘better’ movie than </span><i>Avatar</i><span style="font-style:normal"> with stronger dialogue and acting, but </span><i>Avatar </i><span style="font-style:normal">will reach more people.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This week planet-saving talks collapsed at Copenhagen and the date environmentalists have focussed on for the past two or three years has gone and achieved <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/2009/dec/18/copenhagen-negotiators-bicker-filibuster-biosphere">worse than nothing</a>. It’s telling that both movies started from the point of giving up on Earth’s ecosystems. The pristine perfection of Pandora (the planet in <i>Avatar</i><span style="font-style:normal">) recalls all those nature documentaries with David Attenborough voice-overs. I sometimes wonder if that’s the only Nature we learn to care about. </span><i>The Road</i><span style="font-style:normal"> angrily wipes out our messy, compromised natural world altogether for a purer form of wilderness. I’m pretty excited to see ecology at the heart of our most mainstream movies, but what I’d really like to see now are films that make us care for <a href="http://barelyimaginedbeings.blogspot.com/">the natural world as it is here and now, fractured and astonishing</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-26826220116075385282009-12-17T16:10:00.010+00:002009-12-19T11:27:53.015+00:00Paris in snow<div style="text-align: left;">Paris woke up to snow this morning.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-RfIIRiMRcNb9vQUoKO7iSuFsvrIC_pUMb1waNJ3Ths8HQ8lY1fb2iKacBe9Q9qaQgt3t4B5o782MnTR5jvBYIImwiaDMi8Wt3ridXOxsuMrz8buAaQCm-FZkdkyedDd9fIrPp3QhMCyL/s1600-h/IMG_3109.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-RfIIRiMRcNb9vQUoKO7iSuFsvrIC_pUMb1waNJ3Ths8HQ8lY1fb2iKacBe9Q9qaQgt3t4B5o782MnTR5jvBYIImwiaDMi8Wt3ridXOxsuMrz8buAaQCm-FZkdkyedDd9fIrPp3QhMCyL/s400/IMG_3109.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416238665762841970" /></a><div>At our nearest entrance to the Luxembourg Gardens this statue of the continents holding up the globe was lightly dusted:</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGppWTQcm4yArrAGHKT87jmlUzLgAj38nw63rkj7vgfoPH5rvl7T3A2NGCQvsSkK4GuK2es3-GHMazWuWpVWz1WFNvYFj6OqRfr9BUcVT580GcN-Wb-29VH0kPbjn610SOCyAojV-VkIAU/s1600-h/IMG_3112.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGppWTQcm4yArrAGHKT87jmlUzLgAj38nw63rkj7vgfoPH5rvl7T3A2NGCQvsSkK4GuK2es3-GHMazWuWpVWz1WFNvYFj6OqRfr9BUcVT580GcN-Wb-29VH0kPbjn610SOCyAojV-VkIAU/s400/IMG_3112.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416238507394380066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a>The striking horse-sea-serpents that surround the base dripped with ice:</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZaLmGJy6Nt7_yD85n6xjf6-U3vFqK3u6F7Do2ugbGXYuSny-0KzuyGSRwPX9YOdNsXO81XZg1RYyoig2wjsJmO6b7jamiGBX-rIHAHNySkzcnBFJL4KPJOu273lo8nuiv9OWU_AA0-zoi/s1600-h/IMG_3113.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZaLmGJy6Nt7_yD85n6xjf6-U3vFqK3u6F7Do2ugbGXYuSny-0KzuyGSRwPX9YOdNsXO81XZg1RYyoig2wjsJmO6b7jamiGBX-rIHAHNySkzcnBFJL4KPJOu273lo8nuiv9OWU_AA0-zoi/s400/IMG_3113.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416238587642768050" /></a>In Paris they like their parks immaculate:<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhroMOiTGoLuUalk93zNCX1nNa6SvXJ1zddxoHXM8VtloQ7CeOVObrM3hyphenhyphenbMAJzQ6Lr6oM-2pcS8AjmRNyD8su7tMYb8-5RZ1JLY8YjSq3VBk1o7O8wiqMY1Sf6CVYHnzkY8PeSK4u6VWDV/s1600-h/IMG_3121.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhroMOiTGoLuUalk93zNCX1nNa6SvXJ1zddxoHXM8VtloQ7CeOVObrM3hyphenhyphenbMAJzQ6Lr6oM-2pcS8AjmRNyD8su7tMYb8-5RZ1JLY8YjSq3VBk1o7O8wiqMY1Sf6CVYHnzkY8PeSK4u6VWDV/s400/IMG_3121.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416238222291386786" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNvz714hPz_MrrdszjahwOR-7a2t4totnzW6bf_U3u74Yvac8G-wNCq_OM4QBwFPcZObO8CTjGQxL4pZa144phl3poq71Win9sDfhEcmUVvUvm6JrHW1dfUvzPWw0LZMcYENx7IdCn3JPL/s1600-h/IMG_3125.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNvz714hPz_MrrdszjahwOR-7a2t4totnzW6bf_U3u74Yvac8G-wNCq_OM4QBwFPcZObO8CTjGQxL4pZa144phl3poq71Win9sDfhEcmUVvUvm6JrHW1dfUvzPWw0LZMcYENx7IdCn3JPL/s400/IMG_3125.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416241016182332802" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></div>I admit this sometimes makes me nostalgic for <a href="http://citypollen.blogspot.com/2009/07/wytham-woods-in-july.html">Wytham</a>, but the place is deeply elegant and the sculptures are stunning. Here's the Luxembourg Statue of Liberty, the first bronze model made in preparation for New York's statue:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFiOtC4itB-56n50m7AFSR72JYu926Z2vWaPhhULp_XyiqmKac3cDJaqDyqQraPm0uPwliMtiARre1PE0PUo7PU2W8Hxf9T9MSZmduxUijJTCIjYAudPJJ9l1FYNLnr8Sba6CUB9Xm_Rgm/s1600-h/IMG_3128.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFiOtC4itB-56n50m7AFSR72JYu926Z2vWaPhhULp_XyiqmKac3cDJaqDyqQraPm0uPwliMtiARre1PE0PUo7PU2W8Hxf9T9MSZmduxUijJTCIjYAudPJJ9l1FYNLnr8Sba6CUB9Xm_Rgm/s400/IMG_3128.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416238433592393634" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">Or, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Statue_of_Liberty">Liberty Enlightening the World</a>. I like the symmetry between her arm and the tree branching behind her.</span></span></div></div>Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-10912029429605389522009-12-12T20:33:00.004+00:002009-12-12T20:51:41.209+00:00Holding the flame<div style="text-align: left;">We marked the Copenhagen march today in Paris with a candlelit vigil on the Place de la Concorde. We were a small group encircled by traffic and shoppers on their way to the Champs Elysees. It was not so much a protest as a moment to think about what's happening.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXLz0XN8UiIiiDLIyDj3gLq7V_Tl3ZG8XEoBzZcuyymVT7-HY62gsBWhW7umnlkR4kwPky0KOAxWaOsQfFo2NuUra2wqCSts4F4OG38CBLtqegYnuC6UxU5jsVSAAoQLbbAMvSQoEV1ZhU/s1600-h/IMG_3104.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXLz0XN8UiIiiDLIyDj3gLq7V_Tl3ZG8XEoBzZcuyymVT7-HY62gsBWhW7umnlkR4kwPky0KOAxWaOsQfFo2NuUra2wqCSts4F4OG38CBLtqegYnuC6UxU5jsVSAAoQLbbAMvSQoEV1ZhU/s400/IMG_3104.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414451476527465330" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div>Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-91492354190429635682009-12-07T15:47:00.007+00:002009-12-08T08:55:47.276+00:00Greeting Copenhagen<div style="text-align: left;">The long-awaited Copenhagen Summit has now started. Here’s the film with which they opened the conference:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NVGGgncVq-4&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NVGGgncVq-4&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I find this rather cheesy and evasive (the impacts are portrayed as a child’s nightmare), but it’s interesting to see how our world leaders see themselves. As reassurers of children?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Eran and I greeted the summit in different cities at the London and Paris demonstrations. I was only able to join the start of <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/blog/2009/dec/03/the-wave-march-live-blog">the London rally</a> and march before catching the Eurostar <a href="http://citypollen.blogspot.com/2009/11/home-in-other-words.html">home</a> but the event looked vocal and well attended. About 50,000 people marched, making it the biggest climate protest in the UK so far, but the number is still <a href="http://www.artsandecology.rsablogs.org.uk/2009/12/was-the-wave-really-the-turning-point/#comments">short of a mass movement</a>. Seeing everyone dressed in blue gave a sense of togetherness and lifted the gathering out of the ordinary. Thank you to Emma and others reading this who marched – it’s a beautiful thing to act at this moment. My walk back to King’s Cross took me down Oxford Street, which was closed to traffic I presume for the march route. The street was utterly packed with Christmas shoppers and outside Selfridges machines puffed polystyrene ‘snow’ over passers by. The pure strangeness of walking from a crowd of climate change protesters into hoards of consumers and being greeted by <a href="http://climatedenial.org/2006/12/19/i%E2%80%99m-dreaming-of-a-grey-christmas/">fake snow</a> almost makes me forget how sad this is. Earlier that day in Hyde Park I watched a small boy very seriously reading his handmade sign, ‘No more toys from China’. Presumably he wrote the words but his face did not show it at that moment.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In Paris the <a href="http://www.rfi.fr/actuen/articles/120/article_6088.asp">demonstration</a> was more modest. About a thousand met for a flash mob, clattering saucepans and other noisy objects; you can see a few in Eran’s photo. Parisians were also encouraged to wear colours, but given the choice of orange, white and black, guess what most of the crowd chose...</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfofqNpAQv5b4nbX5fxwZmPZ1B2EMT3NQcud0_WCBxaGsmUAOECwofAd6FpsFVbaHsI8cogCxeKMU5Ww5xKyVHr-ewl-Dy2Yn3shYh-OU-mNhnz7nC8cQAS_5JH4uhhllrHdN9NneQtKUf/s1600-h/IMG_3083.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfofqNpAQv5b4nbX5fxwZmPZ1B2EMT3NQcud0_WCBxaGsmUAOECwofAd6FpsFVbaHsI8cogCxeKMU5Ww5xKyVHr-ewl-Dy2Yn3shYh-OU-mNhnz7nC8cQAS_5JH4uhhllrHdN9NneQtKUf/s320/IMG_3083.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412524543270040818" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" /></a></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-16373945539833135762009-11-18T20:24:00.004+00:002009-11-18T20:44:10.659+00:00Cuts and Culprits<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">In the run up to Copenhagen the Guardian has published <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/datablog/2009/oct/22/carbon-emissions-data-country-world">this comparison of different nations’ contributions to climate change</a> from which I’ve learnt that the per capita carbon emissions in the UK are 9.3 tonnes compared with 6.4 tonnes in France. The main reason for this difference is that France gets 80% of its energy from nuclear power, though possibly local food habits and the popularity of holidays inside the ‘Hexagon’ help marginally. The figure is heartening to me because there’s no significant difference in quality of life between the two countries. Neither lack for luxury. Francophiles and Anglophiles could argue this both ways but really the differences are trivial (the French do have very excellent bread and fresh vegetables, but personally I find this hard to weigh against the watery tea and lack of good cheddar). The statistics show that it would be possible to cut UK emissions by a third without any pain or loss at all by shifting energy generation away from fossil fuels.*</p> <p class="MsoNormal">As well as useful information these national figures offer dubious entertainment – it’s very tempting to search out <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nrbFdlKcPwM">the bad guys</a>. Most obviously, the USA’s 19.9 tonnes per capita annual emissions are quite shocking. But even the USA could point to worse culprits: they’re drinking oil in Bahrain (41 tonnes), Qatar (70.6 tonnes) and UAE (38.5 tonnes), and who can say what’s going on in the Virgin Islands (150 tonnes). Some of the discrepancies are caused by population size so it’s useful – and chilling – to remember that British has the 8<sup>th</sup> highest total carbon emissions of all countries (France is 16<sup>th</sup>).</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The figures aren’t helpful if they're a temptation to evade individual responsibility by pointing to other nations or thinking in relative rather than absolute terms about emissions. We know that the earth can sustain no more than 1 tonne of annual carbon emissions from each of us.** But national statistics are helpful in giving some indication of whether a nation’s actions match their words during the rhetoric storm we can expect from Copenhagen.***</p> <p class="MsoNormal">* Many environmentalists would argue that the French merely displace the problem since nuclear power creates its own dangerous pollution. There’s a very useful assessment of the UK energy situation in <i><a href="http://www.withouthotair.com/">Sustainable Energy Without The Hot Air</a></i>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">** George Marshall’s <i><a href="http://www.carbondetox.org/">Carbon Detox</a> </i><span style="font-style:normal">is still my favourite guide to reaching this target.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">*** If you’re in the UK, don’t forget <a href="http://www.stopclimatechaos.org/the-wave">the march in London</a> on Saturday December 5<sup>th</sup>, <a href="http://www.campaigncc.org/climatemarch2009">from 12 noon</a> to call for strong action against climate change at the UN meeting. (I have to be in the UK that week so will be there. Please do get in touch if you’d like to join me; I will have my British mobile.)</p> <!--EndFragment-->Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-60453949053432130942009-11-11T21:30:00.008+00:002009-11-11T22:07:56.792+00:00Icarus and the fox<div>Outside St Sulpice today I enjoyed <a href="http://www.a-comme-artiste.fr/annuaire-agenda-exposition-lettre-sculpture-et-poesie-place-saint-sulpice-a-paris-4638.html">these sculptures</a>, inspired by books and stories:</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3170d4nWMyQt1fukz7nKTTG2fEsZdRbIPJ47dxi90yCW3eGWBS8u0qgBaj_N96CHU5zA3VwNU2P9BOJ8YVpNjvrs8xIb7c-ZhDwilyA3xxPFfxnLw-QSWANajppV5dJaGSTYp1MWpT0Le/s1600-h/IMG_3004.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3170d4nWMyQt1fukz7nKTTG2fEsZdRbIPJ47dxi90yCW3eGWBS8u0qgBaj_N96CHU5zA3VwNU2P9BOJ8YVpNjvrs8xIb7c-ZhDwilyA3xxPFfxnLw-QSWANajppV5dJaGSTYp1MWpT0Le/s320/IMG_3004.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402962469235753170" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Icare (<a href="http://hompi.sogang.ac.kr/anthony/Classics/OvidIcarus.htm">Icarus</a>), by Robert Aupetit<br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3qC3RjzZSgPbS_e1B-MBSCwlVO_B_bf3-rGbFDUsODvoYQU65iZCZHfi0C6riSTZM-EzAt4Al1HxxLKNnUoEHMARgVmCMOWn2r6HLJyBJXvMQe6jHAu1pZgWlVqM8JCwFqQrmvddz9ckz/s1600-h/IMG_3006.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3qC3RjzZSgPbS_e1B-MBSCwlVO_B_bf3-rGbFDUsODvoYQU65iZCZHfi0C6riSTZM-EzAt4Al1HxxLKNnUoEHMARgVmCMOWn2r6HLJyBJXvMQe6jHAu1pZgWlVqM8JCwFqQrmvddz9ckz/s320/IMG_3006.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402962371013495298" /></a></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKW1Ks-n75W1MHUfyuqe36smqx36qyoiEJdApzAfe-tweUZ3_ftTzpctibV9fizlmzs2SaIBGow308LNieuZGyWuIhBjlxkLiRmxFjV2lqUjSX_W1WdMMfFk_IhLXW2PYmq_TSTirobE9/s1600-h/IMG_3007.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKW1Ks-n75W1MHUfyuqe36smqx36qyoiEJdApzAfe-tweUZ3_ftTzpctibV9fizlmzs2SaIBGow308LNieuZGyWuIhBjlxkLiRmxFjV2lqUjSX_W1WdMMfFk_IhLXW2PYmq_TSTirobE9/s320/IMG_3007.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402962276188298178" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Le Corbeau et le Reynard (The Crow and the Fox), by Florence de Ponthaud-Neyrat<br /></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc_43XcFIks-536hlihNc7_9yz2RfhmBEjcylspfUZkBdZEh1gLJXWKz0DwcS98PQF2S1b0dFgSgdzi-f5dXCs1NOeDvJtcYV2TfPpCf_z6XLOkr4Y2rzHQQ4HvlCg5L0WY0Oiv9Kagels/s1600-h/IMG_3008.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc_43XcFIks-536hlihNc7_9yz2RfhmBEjcylspfUZkBdZEh1gLJXWKz0DwcS98PQF2S1b0dFgSgdzi-f5dXCs1NOeDvJtcYV2TfPpCf_z6XLOkr4Y2rzHQQ4HvlCg5L0WY0Oiv9Kagels/s320/IMG_3008.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402962126251170210" /></a>(The sculpture is inspired by another cautionary tale, <a href="http://www.aesopfables.com/cgi/aesop1.cgi?jdlf&i2ms&i3m.jpg">here</a>.)</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjof__kq8JrlrjYbQnyC3d5PRKUD-QWdz5Ok-XQGah0zSB3bT_uHlYbaqjNnkioz66aG-EVgZ8KatFZ0REKQSzsqGarqBALLZeWaTqP_lun5J536yiToteZhay5eoJLzp1zfMUvg7bBRSdk/s1600-h/IMG_3009.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjof__kq8JrlrjYbQnyC3d5PRKUD-QWdz5Ok-XQGah0zSB3bT_uHlYbaqjNnkioz66aG-EVgZ8KatFZ0REKQSzsqGarqBALLZeWaTqP_lun5J536yiToteZhay5eoJLzp1zfMUvg7bBRSdk/s320/IMG_3009.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402961965171831666" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">'Le grand livre du temps' (The big book of time) by NISA<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvESSxQ-B6fP05KNVqDW-D-gvBpNVa0n1kCGm6Cmd60oX8Ln4qD0sDMluoZ5LXPRVI5O9-VzopXahTQhYWBqM5zBjkmdmsprolB-iAG_thEHXwcZqCNJBLBaA1I6vgxb66izBlqetqMg1T/s1600-h/IMG_3012.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvESSxQ-B6fP05KNVqDW-D-gvBpNVa0n1kCGm6Cmd60oX8Ln4qD0sDMluoZ5LXPRVI5O9-VzopXahTQhYWBqM5zBjkmdmsprolB-iAG_thEHXwcZqCNJBLBaA1I6vgxb66izBlqetqMg1T/s320/IMG_3012.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402961865689542482" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">('Monocycle', Ilio Signore)<br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>It seemed to me that all these sculptures have an element of the precarious in them: Icarus launching towards the dim November sun, the fox and crow sketched in driftwood, the pages in the book fragmenting, and this unicyclist wildly wheeling around. But that fragility is combined with humour, lightness, and joy of living.<br /></div>Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-56898056466225112032009-11-05T21:56:00.004+00:002010-01-19T21:52:24.553+00:00My paper boatI came across this beautiful short video about climate change on the <a href="http://www.1minutetosavetheworld.com/">One Minute to Save the World</a> competition website: <div><br /></div><div> <object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gasMl5DdhkA&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gasMl5DdhkA&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><div><br /></div><div>There are about a thousand eco-films on the site, where you can vote for your favourite. I love the unspoken emotion of this film by <a href="http://www.1minutetosavetheworld.com/2009/10/my-paper-boat/">Arun Boses</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>UPDATE, 19 January 2010 </div><div>My Paper Boat went on to <a href="http://www.1minutetosavetheworld.com/">win</a> the competition. Congratulations Arun Boses!</div></div>Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-90352670781133653822009-11-01T13:52:00.005+00:002009-11-01T17:10:15.436+00:00Home in other words<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Living in a foreign country gets me thinking about words. A few days ago I saw Marilyn Robinson’s novel <i><a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2009/jun/03/marilynne-robinson-orange-prize">Home</a></i><span style="font-style:normal"> in a bookshop, translated as </span><i>Chez Nous</i><span style="font-style:normal">. In French it’s customary to use this phrase, ‘at ours’ or ‘at </span><i>x</i><span style="font-style:normal">’s’, to mean home. You can also use the word for house, </span><i>la maison</i><span style="font-style:normal">, but there isn’t an exact translation for ‘home’. Hebrew also doesn’t have a word for ‘home’ in the English sense. You just use the word for ‘house’/‘building’. Robinson’s heart-breaking and perfectly written novel conveys some of the emotions, beliefs and memories with which we layer the word ‘home’. For me ‘our place’ has none of those (though perhaps it might for a native French speaker). I’m willing to call our current flat ‘ours’, but it isn’t ‘home’.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The word ‘ecology’ has its root in the Greek word for ‘home’, <i>oikos</i><span style="font-style:normal">. This means we could translate ‘ecology’ as something like home-saying, or maybe home-knowing. I love this word. It’s slightly painful to see </span><i>oikos</i><span style="font-style:normal"> also co-opted into ‘economy’, but that’s another matter. Eco-critics and greens in general often object to the word ‘environment’ because it means something that surrounds us and prefer ‘ecology’ for suggesting connection and shared being between ourselves and the natural world. I find it tempting to describe myself as an ‘ecologist’ rather than an ‘environmentalist’ for this reason, but to do so might be a bit pretentious and deceptive, as though I were pretending to be a scientist. Here in France there’s no problem: all greens are called </span><i>écologistes</i><span style="font-style:normal">.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So here’s a thought from French post-modernist <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean-Fran%C3%A7ois_Lyotard">Jean-François Lyotard</a>, who <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Political-Writings-Jean-Francois-Lyotard/dp/0816620458">argues</a> that ecology is ‘not an environment at all, but a relation with something that is inscribed at the origin in all minds… ‘ecology’ means the discourse of the secluded, of the thing that has not become public, that has not become communicational, that has not become systematic, and that can never become any of these things. This presupposes that there is a relation of language with the logos, which is not centred on optimal performance and which is not obsessed by it, but which is preoccupied, in the full sense of ‘pre-occupied’, with listening to and seeking for what is secluded, <i>oikeion</i><span style="font-style:normal">. This discourse is called ‘literature’, ‘art’, or ‘writing’ in general.’ <o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-29117810997359307602009-10-25T16:06:00.013+00:002009-10-25T16:20:50.829+00:00Autumn in Paris<div style="text-align: left;">I took a longer break than I anticipated mostly because settling into Paris took a while, but also because wildness is tricky to spot in this city, at least at first glance. Parisians are quite conscious of the environment to judge by the efficient recycling schemes, popular bike-hire system and the volume of adverts that promote brands as green. I’m quite hopeful that there will be lots of ecological French activity to blog: by chance, the first French-English conversation group I went to was themed ‘Going Green’, and we’ve already received a circular from the mayor of our district who has written a fistful of books on sustainability.<br /></div> <p class="MsoNormal">But as autumn is in its glory I’ve been hankering after trees. Just round the corner from our flat is an ingenious little park, the Jardin Atlantique, built across the roof of Gare Montparnasse (a major city train station).</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOf8RBkClafSCpEZCXtW5pUfh24_B_0VBoOZEOm5VA1o6tVn7bl-Y6OhiOW3CoCcXvgl6eKL9a72qbVwFbM1DmTDRAK3ggW-tG1Qo7cvxPT_VbINjjrBG8srdAn4jptvC6VUWXlP8SEz8f/s1600-h/IMG_2973.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOf8RBkClafSCpEZCXtW5pUfh24_B_0VBoOZEOm5VA1o6tVn7bl-Y6OhiOW3CoCcXvgl6eKL9a72qbVwFbM1DmTDRAK3ggW-tG1Qo7cvxPT_VbINjjrBG8srdAn4jptvC6VUWXlP8SEz8f/s320/IMG_2973.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396569887219733330" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfF4r2zXv3oqVik13akJl4owS5nf0HJu6vxgrae_VByelHYqZgr32Q7xPnjy4Pve2Tx0JhUTMh5eEBlzxRh-U1ypFFKlyNxfXh7YEne7cSC8No9pwsa-kQ2Zfa3ZyxO2aVo7PEev0l14dV/s1600-h/IMG_2967.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfF4r2zXv3oqVik13akJl4owS5nf0HJu6vxgrae_VByelHYqZgr32Q7xPnjy4Pve2Tx0JhUTMh5eEBlzxRh-U1ypFFKlyNxfXh7YEne7cSC8No9pwsa-kQ2Zfa3ZyxO2aVo7PEev0l14dV/s320/IMG_2967.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396570131968029554" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal">It’s a curious place, circled by tall office blocks with Tour Montparnasse looming above them all. Train announcements and other sounds from the station platforms resonate through the ground. Like all Parisian public spaces it’s also carefully organised with lots of municipal activities: tennis courts, boules court, ping-pong tables and so on. There’s a very impressive children’s play area, including this lovely canopy walkway. </p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkO7YKyhJwhoHDoBZD2Ko4kllQwl05RsLEVuroz4y_P9uyAPCMvVZzBeEIrqpEcc4p0A6Ey01uuNZM_JBm_6t_OGcn4NS4ll6Cu05kYZyaaUukEshP8XAiqv45jLCLvLxPlUyFIbsYkGPy/s1600-h/IMG_2964.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkO7YKyhJwhoHDoBZD2Ko4kllQwl05RsLEVuroz4y_P9uyAPCMvVZzBeEIrqpEcc4p0A6Ey01uuNZM_JBm_6t_OGcn4NS4ll6Cu05kYZyaaUukEshP8XAiqv45jLCLvLxPlUyFIbsYkGPy/s320/IMG_2964.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396570276131129938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal">A little marsh area rustles under the tower.</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwVkAEEjUrpiHY7br1MzzAUmG_7Ts6Mq1AiQe9I2elP1w6zI-kRA_sitG9_XQTB61bya0BjRxsmexFvWtGvaVWHdKV-yCyIpUBPADwEYA03_VKHcWUff9-Qczac4uWPu9OOMInxAZez7fe/s1600-h/IMG_2970.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwVkAEEjUrpiHY7br1MzzAUmG_7Ts6Mq1AiQe9I2elP1w6zI-kRA_sitG9_XQTB61bya0BjRxsmexFvWtGvaVWHdKV-yCyIpUBPADwEYA03_VKHcWUff9-Qczac4uWPu9OOMInxAZez7fe/s320/IMG_2970.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396570005065334050" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">On the way back today I was struck by the sunlight in these birch leaves. </div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Abu2GBHuo8h40aIkJrn1JSeTY9M-mCHBqqRMrTYqCtiDP6ZzDHUhrTaM0uJRbW7pl4OXSeQ72lev15GuDvD1GnwFDmJeNoS9Lu9iS0P8ZOl-h_u7rGQCTHTzGzBf89oYRYP4VYYBMVyU/s1600-h/IMG_2983.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Abu2GBHuo8h40aIkJrn1JSeTY9M-mCHBqqRMrTYqCtiDP6ZzDHUhrTaM0uJRbW7pl4OXSeQ72lev15GuDvD1GnwFDmJeNoS9Lu9iS0P8ZOl-h_u7rGQCTHTzGzBf89oYRYP4VYYBMVyU/s320/IMG_2983.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396570399341862562" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjntvnhgviMLeHwHu82ylNlKhtghhhwUV4GcUHpOXluRR9f8sAEN7sto83Njn_5cZcJefE-6WFHtNZbb8pcYO-Azdu1vlry1tsWxcstEnRtKaKIwclUv8gEhK5_vxdB13hBxaJDEHDm8nXr/s1600-h/IMG_2986.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjntvnhgviMLeHwHu82ylNlKhtghhhwUV4GcUHpOXluRR9f8sAEN7sto83Njn_5cZcJefE-6WFHtNZbb8pcYO-Azdu1vlry1tsWxcstEnRtKaKIwclUv8gEhK5_vxdB13hBxaJDEHDm8nXr/s320/IMG_2986.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396570836216339458" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuUOpRxbEQjDodcaXGC03ACkmRtakBBkiyVu_q2M_6tDP8su5xsoDe8ltTiEBNjrxNIXrCpY9grsbI38xfqOanFR__nhiP0FtRNoDgBY91iusKUadvLQGe02uj1oHc1bBZWuhWoNxxm9ub/s1600-h/IMG_2985.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuUOpRxbEQjDodcaXGC03ACkmRtakBBkiyVu_q2M_6tDP8su5xsoDe8ltTiEBNjrxNIXrCpY9grsbI38xfqOanFR__nhiP0FtRNoDgBY91iusKUadvLQGe02uj1oHc1bBZWuhWoNxxm9ub/s320/IMG_2985.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396571979377418530" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal">While taking photos I thought I may as well take a photo of the view from another of the same roundabout’s exits. <br /></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTfDYbLhYRp7GZGuR5BWuPEGCwociYOoPDfh_3Q3USpHblUstWmFSAzmI86fpnGikyD_Jbrdx7S6QLPnWC5UhBRvA_alC7JsJo4H9HAmfCGYdoAIF1MWgzWVxOdaAZcVzdPmk8dWylryM/s1600-h/IMG_2990.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTfDYbLhYRp7GZGuR5BWuPEGCwociYOoPDfh_3Q3USpHblUstWmFSAzmI86fpnGikyD_Jbrdx7S6QLPnWC5UhBRvA_alC7JsJo4H9HAmfCGYdoAIF1MWgzWVxOdaAZcVzdPmk8dWylryM/s320/IMG_2990.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396570960848075842" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a> <!--EndFragment-->Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-89943258765727417412009-09-29T14:32:00.003+01:002009-09-29T23:26:04.628+01:00Goodbye Oxford<div><span style="Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-GB;mso-fareast-language:EN-USfont-family:";font-size:12.0pt;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLzOeAtZU-wv4NK9NwSve_2VSeLbPwyK5G1qk6SnEYKAarfNMd5MKJz6Ddg49760HAqBKXmxDhhJPUJSigjNbzUEXVJSBgrEUcjfkL0BwjC-HhaPlS0j0Pjv2iX48OYtYJiOm1stwe3NC/s1600-h/IMG_0909.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Eran and I are moving to Paris later this week. This blog may fall quiet for a little while until we're settled into our new flat and have set up internet access. City Pollen will resume soon with a more urban focus than of late and hopefully news of environmental arts in France as well as elsewhere. For now, this is goodbye to Oxford…</span></a></span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLzOeAtZU-wv4NK9NwSve_2VSeLbPwyK5G1qk6SnEYKAarfNMd5MKJz6Ddg49760HAqBKXmxDhhJPUJSigjNbzUEXVJSBgrEUcjfkL0BwjC-HhaPlS0j0Pjv2iX48OYtYJiOm1stwe3NC/s1600-h/IMG_0909.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLzOeAtZU-wv4NK9NwSve_2VSeLbPwyK5G1qk6SnEYKAarfNMd5MKJz6Ddg49760HAqBKXmxDhhJPUJSigjNbzUEXVJSBgrEUcjfkL0BwjC-HhaPlS0j0Pjv2iX48OYtYJiOm1stwe3NC/s400/IMG_0909.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386881901541694674" /></a>Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8099930249060594217.post-87560278453638039082009-09-24T18:07:00.020+01:002009-09-24T18:37:35.551+01:00Mull and Iona<div style="text-align: left;">From <a href="http://citypollen.blogspot.com/2009/09/no-wealth-but-life.html">Cumbria earlier this week</a> my parents and I visited the Scottish west coast and the islands of <a href="http://www.holidaymull.co.uk/">Mull</a> and <a href="http://www.isle-of-iona.com/">Iona</a>. <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcn_bJG7TCYNyzEy_JjQvzpChuR73KCPbASoD_fzCF-gr0HZi_gwg7UrEzZHTkYIBsHDBEaHc9hQ-0pwYI1kCLSMLjVmXQe9od8gEe_ArzJzEisoXEER8H-_r5Ko_IAtqssLYBhLP2PCla/s1600-h/IMG_2801.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcn_bJG7TCYNyzEy_JjQvzpChuR73KCPbASoD_fzCF-gr0HZi_gwg7UrEzZHTkYIBsHDBEaHc9hQ-0pwYI1kCLSMLjVmXQe9od8gEe_ArzJzEisoXEER8H-_r5Ko_IAtqssLYBhLP2PCla/s320/IMG_2801.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385084980599388002" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal">Right on the <a href="http://citypollen.blogspot.com/2009/08/evening-at-edges.html">edge</a> of the ocean the land becomes fluid with the wind and the sea. Rocks and hillsides rise suddenly from the tides and lochs fill up any low place in this beautiful area. Iona’s light and colour is often praised, perhaps because the sky is so large there. Here’s a sunset over our campsite on the Ross of Mull.</p><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj72xj18pVs1IeKNIvnCnhT31Chkmbr-FCYnSzKy9KnIM51_vA02mCb9-bVdAfm4AeC4_VW_ycNvlHWBJwHR-7ooHy0DFxBDmhs91swTVELoWtiFPneSnpf4kCJ5v8RFd4SiKN6_JfjYfxZ/s1600-h/IMG_2814.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj72xj18pVs1IeKNIvnCnhT31Chkmbr-FCYnSzKy9KnIM51_vA02mCb9-bVdAfm4AeC4_VW_ycNvlHWBJwHR-7ooHy0DFxBDmhs91swTVELoWtiFPneSnpf4kCJ5v8RFd4SiKN6_JfjYfxZ/s320/IMG_2814.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385085896006486322" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /><br /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLCagBusk2W1_OF-hrtD9544-_O1wTxgFyQvlrbkY0fpzuQvsvO3IvGIbt3_k9GMncN0-OIg8GvHZBtZH_cFQPZiJsy3vM5aFHRRJen6pjlKkAQppfM4T9TLQbMRlAudWHDbAMooTP_v0w/s1600-h/IMG_2815.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLCagBusk2W1_OF-hrtD9544-_O1wTxgFyQvlrbkY0fpzuQvsvO3IvGIbt3_k9GMncN0-OIg8GvHZBtZH_cFQPZiJsy3vM5aFHRRJen6pjlKkAQppfM4T9TLQbMRlAudWHDbAMooTP_v0w/s320/IMG_2815.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385082286974444770" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi03IYBPa7Dwh_jtQFfW2a_n7iA4Lj5VPEJB9JmZbcpDFYJlDa31_5aMQRAQFbk60uGzaF6OL2lqZxonagx2wQBeLW0lecuEXiyWG_9arMVeMDwCVOtHYHGeFA0l3BM8Gdlt8xRuDkHAEyc/s1600-h/IMG_2817.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi03IYBPa7Dwh_jtQFfW2a_n7iA4Lj5VPEJB9JmZbcpDFYJlDa31_5aMQRAQFbk60uGzaF6OL2lqZxonagx2wQBeLW0lecuEXiyWG_9arMVeMDwCVOtHYHGeFA0l3BM8Gdlt8xRuDkHAEyc/s320/IMG_2817.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385085675446586354" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><!--StartFragment--> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Even Iona’s rocks are extravagantly coloured and organic.</p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6PHdCwxr0s5T50wl-2BCAH5ZfZHSf3XrbFNEkcqu48Qw4cAXGrPU5M1Cvm7wbOMmE9cdVbBjfIFeJbG1gfaeboeyWU4DrHB_X6FwFEfjZy3JN11GBL3Fy-wiFuhewtMAJMwh21HuLSOs3/s1600-h/IMG_2895.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6PHdCwxr0s5T50wl-2BCAH5ZfZHSf3XrbFNEkcqu48Qw4cAXGrPU5M1Cvm7wbOMmE9cdVbBjfIFeJbG1gfaeboeyWU4DrHB_X6FwFEfjZy3JN11GBL3Fy-wiFuhewtMAJMwh21HuLSOs3/s320/IMG_2895.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385083023996403266" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">Rockpools cluster with Mussels, Limpets, Anemones and seaweeds. More camera-shy were Eider Ducks, Gannets, Guillemots, Herons and the occasional Seal.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhPcPF5Q9Dmz553_Lfhl-ASfo6R1LnA-EnRNidHCfkCyxsCQ6h1WL4Rn8tGx_ynx8l7EC5RQ65y3frPk_NuXxrTUZTKbQXVemwmYDHDC0FWkzGIX2TbYdgsEnEFcDbypkJIDlpR3uJYbIv/s1600-h/IMG_2885.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhPcPF5Q9Dmz553_Lfhl-ASfo6R1LnA-EnRNidHCfkCyxsCQ6h1WL4Rn8tGx_ynx8l7EC5RQ65y3frPk_NuXxrTUZTKbQXVemwmYDHDC0FWkzGIX2TbYdgsEnEFcDbypkJIDlpR3uJYbIv/s320/IMG_2885.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385082810690318434" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">One moment we had light bright enough to turn the sea crystal, and the next moment the wind rushed in rain storms. Honestly, the seasons changed every ten minutes.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2xeNzLX86-Ea8C4_u0gSmtaN1KNvuIEQAL3SJXA5bG5sstvUlnOjw2Q-hWq7iHQ8TyFhqi4GZyCz-m9tHngxAXSmDf_9tnuVMrTFz0RIcy8qQimrazq1YUh6uW5UO7tPVaVLlP5_O1kpk/s1600-h/IMG_2832.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2xeNzLX86-Ea8C4_u0gSmtaN1KNvuIEQAL3SJXA5bG5sstvUlnOjw2Q-hWq7iHQ8TyFhqi4GZyCz-m9tHngxAXSmDf_9tnuVMrTFz0RIcy8qQimrazq1YUh6uW5UO7tPVaVLlP5_O1kpk/s320/IMG_2832.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385082391342402738" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi891_Grd9CrPT5JdlIaQUM2JXYM-yuww5ypmgbiXiIrf06b2ZugcM1FtTVfCgips45aZNKXS0KzAnLFzA3MM3pQxFmg7uwloJMXmFLcySCvgwX_drLrsEPQu6UP2CNwJLy0bQPwRrnY7CJ/s1600-h/IMG_2894.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi891_Grd9CrPT5JdlIaQUM2JXYM-yuww5ypmgbiXiIrf06b2ZugcM1FtTVfCgips45aZNKXS0KzAnLFzA3MM3pQxFmg7uwloJMXmFLcySCvgwX_drLrsEPQu6UP2CNwJLy0bQPwRrnY7CJ/s320/IMG_2894.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385082896544020050" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgPUueEGDNRsoUfPIOmUCSo_iD-Kj6pt8gJ1R35F4Y5eSBGlxBynPRpF-Q8UlFC6XQbWl9rcAdo8HPjQEEZi-7ul5pVick3T4VmKURlZtHp_CLwvED5R2RxfQdKvAkiDdfCW1TXeitGeBi/s1600-h/IMG_2909.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgPUueEGDNRsoUfPIOmUCSo_iD-Kj6pt8gJ1R35F4Y5eSBGlxBynPRpF-Q8UlFC6XQbWl9rcAdo8HPjQEEZi-7ul5pVick3T4VmKURlZtHp_CLwvED5R2RxfQdKvAkiDdfCW1TXeitGeBi/s320/IMG_2909.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385082005181323282" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal">Iona is most famous for the abbey established there by St Columba who came to the island in 563 and was important in spreading Christianity from Ireland to Scotland and England. The <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh58IOX1XBkoMx0Ejo6lWPe0F0X5xW803FVr0EMdAOvU96wcQVqCJ4qQS16V1bPbOC15ZoeOn9EZG0hzgx9AXOOJcCY8DdY8SDB6wBczZpYbriFrExI99fmIWLJ6kxffiSJwM4oDliMOTCx/s1600-h/KellsFol034rChiRhoMonogram.jpg">Book of Kells</a> is likely to have been written there, and Iona is still home to much beautiful Celtic stonework.</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGrrhSmOcyQBNtH0Mq49ZylUn1iYGQUm8CcSL3UJYzxVcPKKNzXxfjW1boOv247RAXbQrPCPvoNsm1VivxuiYjpdaYfUzl9YyMND3tabQfRf1Qh2t4OXU6aKjeeVhoRLIfejML7L8H5BYf/s1600-h/IMG_2851.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGrrhSmOcyQBNtH0Mq49ZylUn1iYGQUm8CcSL3UJYzxVcPKKNzXxfjW1boOv247RAXbQrPCPvoNsm1VivxuiYjpdaYfUzl9YyMND3tabQfRf1Qh2t4OXU6aKjeeVhoRLIfejML7L8H5BYf/s320/IMG_2851.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385082499465097938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2RPfHiCks_oPMBdNUVUe_54upVu6MF9zprog5G62lJJ32jt9-onmZWkRTjRwNmZGsA7AcjBMGu3YdL2oTX4Qnu7B3qVzBTIAO8VT5Hhh9Ef-3Fyx2VzFNPp-yHlmayezl_tGXnJuIOEtp/s1600-h/IMG_2872.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2RPfHiCks_oPMBdNUVUe_54upVu6MF9zprog5G62lJJ32jt9-onmZWkRTjRwNmZGsA7AcjBMGu3YdL2oTX4Qnu7B3qVzBTIAO8VT5Hhh9Ef-3Fyx2VzFNPp-yHlmayezl_tGXnJuIOEtp/s320/IMG_2872.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385082696350483730" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">The modern cloisters draw upon the Celtic tradition of creating sacred art from the natural world. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXskCWXYGr3iOPyXlFgn-GjDwj_7Dp3nDzAP7gL8XigWjHH01uiE9Yn7E17wcmu3ZAs6FQ-NkVBD8cO3ypOQWJN4qCh2Hc06saSMq1wuvaMsdUTk6nNuNB0KT6CpA3XmeOTI3LUP-ALw-t/s1600-h/IMG_2856.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXskCWXYGr3iOPyXlFgn-GjDwj_7Dp3nDzAP7gL8XigWjHH01uiE9Yn7E17wcmu3ZAs6FQ-NkVBD8cO3ypOQWJN4qCh2Hc06saSMq1wuvaMsdUTk6nNuNB0KT6CpA3XmeOTI3LUP-ALw-t/s320/IMG_2856.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385082588776230338" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>Kathleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09085839303163451608noreply@blogger.com0