Reflections on the weather, and other assorted climate change. It’s a very hot weekend here in the Midlands of the UK. Today’s weather forecast is predicting a high temperature of 30C, which is not usual for this area. It’s already 24.5C indoors in our kitchen, despite the fact we’ve opened all the windows and closed the blinds and curtains. I can hear enthusiasts mowing. We’re hiding indoors.
So I guess I’ll do a quick round up of the state of the garden before I get onto more pertinent musings about the weather.
Our woodpigeon nest in the self-seeded elder stand has currently got no less than two healthy looking chicks, rapidly growing up.
The chickens are doing well. I swapped Stoic and Ramone between flocks. Stoic did not like sharing space with Tiny, our rooster, whereas Ramone doesn’t mind him much. Tiny is still being brought indoors every night in a retrofitted cat carrier, because he wakes up at 5 am at this time of the year. And I’m sure our neighbours don’t want to be woken by him at that time. Although last night I accidentally left a window open in his porch – oops!
Before the current heatwave kicked in, I made more progress with the overall shape of the garden.
The nature pond in the back garden now has a new waterfall, and a solar powered pump. It’s not a big pump, just enough to give it a bit of a trickle on clear days when the sun hits the solar panel. This gives the birds and the bees a new place to drink, and I am hoping will slightly reduce the midges. Yes, they are a valuable part of the eco foodchain, but the back deck still needs to be inhabitable by us humans.
I managed to get the lawn mowed down short again. Again we are hitting the balance between our using the garden and letting nature have space. And I have taken back last year’s potato bed properly again, ready to fill with pollinator friendly flowers.
Our balancing act
So I spoke above about a balancing act with our back garden.
Yes, we are against unnecessary plastic use because it isn’t sustainable. But at the same time we have a plastic covered polytunnel to grow some food, to reduce some of our food miles. And the tunnel takes water, which we don’t yet reclaim much of from the rain because of logistics.
Yes, we still have an unproductive lawn. Which we very, very rarely water; often allow to overgrow for long periods of time, but we do mow it. We balance this with dedicated wild patches, allowing thistles to grow in certain sections, leaving long grass to go to seed in others.
Yes, we make room for nature. But we also heavily curate it, because we use the garden ourselves.
Reflections on the weather
Time to pull this post back to the topic: reflections on the weather.
It’s times like this, particularly with this summer bringing more weather related headlines, that I often try to step back and take a good look at the big picture.
Fossil fuel production and subsequent use of that fossil fuel accounted for 71% of the total estimated cumulative greenhouse gas emissions released by human activity (excluding carbon dioxide from land use, land use change and forestry, and agricultural methane) between 1988 and 2015. And just 100 companies account for that fossil fuel production. Here’s a link to a fact check on that.
As I sit here, literally avoiding my garden today because it’s too warm for me at 30C, quite a bit of the world is struggling with much more extreme weather. By which I mean floods, drought, and wildfires. My ‘bit warm for me’ garden by comparison isn’t much to complain about, really.
Can my small efforts make a real change to climate rebalancing? Do my reflections on the weather even matter? Probably not in the grand scheme of things. For every day I turn the lights off when I leave a room, there’s an office block somewhere leaving banks of lights on overnight.
Does it mean I should stop trying?
Reflections on the weather
Pop on over to social media to eavesdrop on my erratic journey through every weather my location throws at me.
I mirror the feed over various platforms for your ease, so you can just follow on your favourite!