- Location
- Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk
Isn’t ‘nature’ lovely? And anything ‘natural’ must be best mustn’t it? Well, maybe. And maybe we should take a deep breath, count to 10, and ask the big question…..whether we can really be expecting much in the way of a natural environment in a country of 70 odd million, or on a planet carrying 7.7 billion.
There is this fixation, amongst people who don’t live close to nature, with trying to impose controls on those of us do. They want to make us try and recreate some halcyon - and probably mythical- utopia, when every species lives in harmony with each other- and apparently….us. Recent floods have bought this into focus again in several areas, notably the lower reaches of the river Don in Yorkshire. I’m really sorry for those affected, it must be dreadful. However, after a dutiful nod of sympathy, and that deep breath, perhaps it would be an idea to ask why the place is called ‘Fishlake’?
In fact, it’s in a lowlying area that was drained in the 1600’s by a Dutchman –or he might’ve been a Belgian depending on where the boundary was on the day he left- called Vermuden. There were subsequent complaints, riots even, by the residents of Fishlake as the works messed up their lives somewhat- it seems they were happy living by the water until he came along. The village currently lies just 30 odd feet above sea level, despite being a few miles inland from the Humber estuary. And since Vermuden’s time, has heavily drained, with pumps lifting water up into the estuaries. In fact, there’s miles and miles of such country up and down the East coast. River systems have been dredged for centuries to ensure the modest falls are kept flowing. Embankments and bunds have been maintained, and people lived and worked in an area that would otherwise be ‘wetlands’. But now, in an unhappy marriage between those thinking ‘natural is best’, and cost cutting by government, a lack of continuity in these works means we’re effectively throwing this land and its residents under the bus. Or possibly a flat bottomed scow.
Is this right? Is this moral? Where are they going to live if housing proves unsustainable? Where is the food going to come from which is currently grown on the rich farmland that the drains were originally installed to free up?
I’ve already belaboured my issues with the facile ‘tree planting to save the world’ proclamations, but I’ve little doubt that some wise commentator will be saying all this terrible flooding is mostly due to those wicked hill farmers – despite a lot of the water ending up in the Humber coming from the East Midlands via the Trent. I suppose, looking at the map you could conceivably point the finger of blame at a few hill farmers in the ‘Peak District’, but most of the catchment seems to include some of the more built up environs in the UK, taken as a whole.
Hmm, let’s dwell on that for a moment.
On the subject of claims that we suffer from more ‘extreme weather events’ now I was in conversation with some educated people lately…you know em…degree level education, salaries, and pensions meaning they’ll be able to stop work long before their bones ache with every days labour.
And after one of them mentioned the alleged increase in these somewhat undefined ‘extreme weather events’, I asked whether my first hand observations were of any note, cos I sure don’t see a whole lot of difference in extreme weather events in my lifetime. I’ve been looking out of the same kitchen window at the same stretch of river for a long time. And I know very well how far up the bank the river comes in extremis, and how far over the road it comes. In fact, there’s a photo with me in it of just such a flood….taken when I’m a babe in arms, back when photographers hid under a black sheet and shouted ‘watch the birdie!’
The highest level hasn’t changed noticeably in my half century of recollection, and I don’t think the frequency has changed. The highest level is reached something like once or twice a year. It’s certainly milder during winter months now, on average, and notably we haven’t had an ‘extreme’ winter for all of my life. My Dad farmed here through 1947, and 1963…during both of which he lost half his scotch ewes. I’ve never seen one like it. The drought last year was a problem, but doesn’t seem to have been as severe as 1976. Still, the aforementioned must’ve all been nice and wholesome…being all natural!
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Anton's articles are syndicated exclusively by TFF by kind permission of the author and WMN.
Anton also writes regularly for the Dartmoor Magazine
There is this fixation, amongst people who don’t live close to nature, with trying to impose controls on those of us do. They want to make us try and recreate some halcyon - and probably mythical- utopia, when every species lives in harmony with each other- and apparently….us. Recent floods have bought this into focus again in several areas, notably the lower reaches of the river Don in Yorkshire. I’m really sorry for those affected, it must be dreadful. However, after a dutiful nod of sympathy, and that deep breath, perhaps it would be an idea to ask why the place is called ‘Fishlake’?
In fact, it’s in a lowlying area that was drained in the 1600’s by a Dutchman –or he might’ve been a Belgian depending on where the boundary was on the day he left- called Vermuden. There were subsequent complaints, riots even, by the residents of Fishlake as the works messed up their lives somewhat- it seems they were happy living by the water until he came along. The village currently lies just 30 odd feet above sea level, despite being a few miles inland from the Humber estuary. And since Vermuden’s time, has heavily drained, with pumps lifting water up into the estuaries. In fact, there’s miles and miles of such country up and down the East coast. River systems have been dredged for centuries to ensure the modest falls are kept flowing. Embankments and bunds have been maintained, and people lived and worked in an area that would otherwise be ‘wetlands’. But now, in an unhappy marriage between those thinking ‘natural is best’, and cost cutting by government, a lack of continuity in these works means we’re effectively throwing this land and its residents under the bus. Or possibly a flat bottomed scow.
Is this right? Is this moral? Where are they going to live if housing proves unsustainable? Where is the food going to come from which is currently grown on the rich farmland that the drains were originally installed to free up?
I’ve already belaboured my issues with the facile ‘tree planting to save the world’ proclamations, but I’ve little doubt that some wise commentator will be saying all this terrible flooding is mostly due to those wicked hill farmers – despite a lot of the water ending up in the Humber coming from the East Midlands via the Trent. I suppose, looking at the map you could conceivably point the finger of blame at a few hill farmers in the ‘Peak District’, but most of the catchment seems to include some of the more built up environs in the UK, taken as a whole.
Hmm, let’s dwell on that for a moment.
On the subject of claims that we suffer from more ‘extreme weather events’ now I was in conversation with some educated people lately…you know em…degree level education, salaries, and pensions meaning they’ll be able to stop work long before their bones ache with every days labour.
And after one of them mentioned the alleged increase in these somewhat undefined ‘extreme weather events’, I asked whether my first hand observations were of any note, cos I sure don’t see a whole lot of difference in extreme weather events in my lifetime. I’ve been looking out of the same kitchen window at the same stretch of river for a long time. And I know very well how far up the bank the river comes in extremis, and how far over the road it comes. In fact, there’s a photo with me in it of just such a flood….taken when I’m a babe in arms, back when photographers hid under a black sheet and shouted ‘watch the birdie!’
The highest level hasn’t changed noticeably in my half century of recollection, and I don’t think the frequency has changed. The highest level is reached something like once or twice a year. It’s certainly milder during winter months now, on average, and notably we haven’t had an ‘extreme’ winter for all of my life. My Dad farmed here through 1947, and 1963…during both of which he lost half his scotch ewes. I’ve never seen one like it. The drought last year was a problem, but doesn’t seem to have been as severe as 1976. Still, the aforementioned must’ve all been nice and wholesome…being all natural!
-------------------------
Anton's articles are syndicated exclusively by TFF by kind permission of the author and WMN.
Anton also writes regularly for the Dartmoor Magazine
