FIGHTING FOR THE SOUL OF SWANSCOMBE

Grand and hard hitting.  That`s what I said to myself, an opportunity to talk about a special place, Swanscombe Marshes… Start off grand and hard hitting. A green statement, that`s what you need along the lines of `Nature is the air we breathe, the water we drink so stop trashing it` or some such snappy mantra. It was here I mentally put the brakes on. Hold on, slow down Mr. Billy big green wellies, let`s get a reality check here Mr. Pomposity. That`s all very true but look at yourself first, your nothing more than a green voyeur.

I`ll explain. I`m a birder. I like watching birds. Wherever they are, I`m rarely without my `bins`, a birder’s vernacular for binoculars. I also like to think that I have green credentials, an environmentalist in tune with nature, particularly birds, and I do believe that nature is all pervasive and persuasive. Yet really, most of the time, I`m distanced from nature, an outsider, looking at my environment remotely from the safety of a set of lenses, fragmented and refracted from the reality, all enjoyment without the involvement. Like I said, a green voyeur. Yet I do have my moments, every now and then there are moments, moments that stay in the memory, moments that make me believe in spirituality and that I may indeed have a soul, that I am involved with something greater,  something that happens that transcends the five senses. Swanscombe Marshes provided me with one such memory where I truly can say I felt that I was on the inside, truly part of nature.

I was enjoying a day `birding` at Swanscombe with good friend and fellow birder Darryl Jones. Lunch beckoned, we found a suitable grassy bank, undid the tinfoil, chomped and nattered away. A Raven appeared, a bird of majestic proportions and unmistakable voice, a bird that through the centuries has inspired artists, poets, writers and indeed whole nations, a bird that is surrounded by myth and superstition, evoking both joy and fear, written deeply into worldwide cultures. More prosaically, through centuries of persecution, it’s a bird that is still rarely seen in Eastern England. Out came the little black book to satisfy the anally retentive part of my character, and another species duly chalked up on the days list. We both watched as the Raven performed an almost perfect circular route from its pylon perch, a circle not more than 50 feet above our heads stretching for what seemed a mile each way.  Mesmerised by its magnificence we watched it land and Darryl turned to me and said “Hold on, it will do it again”.  And lo and behold it did. Darryl is also a professor, a behavioural ecologist, interested in how humans and animals interact with each other and is something of a corvidmeister, a crow expert. And then he said ominously …….”it`s checking us out!”.

We walked away and observed the raven flying to where we had been sitting. This bird, was not doing something as base as eating our throwaways (there weren`t any) or indeed anything utilitarian …..it was clearly sussing us out. This is a bird with serious mental capacity, a bird that watches, assesses and learns, an avian supercomputer with the cognitive ability on a par with the higher primates. We had been visitors to its world, a realm that Jakob von Uexkull (1864-1944), a German biologist described as umwelt and importantly philosophised as something unique to each living species. Umwelt literally translates as `surrounding world` and Uexkull understood that all life has its own specific sensory universe, and we had been in the Raven’s. I have to say grown man and tears comes to mind; this was no voyeurism, this was a true love in.

There`s a pragmatic reason why Ravens can be seen at Swanscombe. Ravens like a view from heights and this post-industrial brownfield site has plenty of them. It also likes space, prefers not to be disturbed, well not too much, just one of the features that Swanscombe as a natural resource provides us all with at the moment. There are a host of other rare bird, insect and plant species on site all of which have umwelt and the ability to enthral and touch our souls. Marsh Harriers, Skylarks, Bearded Tits, Jumping Spiders, Marsh frogs……….. Oh and by the way, there is no charge, all of this potential enchantment is free. However, as we know there has been talk of the marshes being developed and, for the sake of partiality, let`s hazard a guess at what the future could have in store.

As with most new non-residential developments the sweeteners fall into two categories, employment and mitigation. There will be promises of loads and loads of jobs. Unfortunately the numbers will be grossly inflated by including construction workers jobs, rather than sticking to the amount of sustainable jobs. Then there will be all those fantastic site jobs, those part-time, zero-hour contract, temporary, seasonal, minimum wage type jobs, no hope type jobs. The crafty fags at the fire exit type jobs, vaping our lives away type jobs, The twenty minute induction type jobs all formica tables and polystyrene cups, all nobo boards and mission statements, key performance indicators and management Information systems type jobs all acronyms and spreadsheets. Conceived to compartmentalize, systemize and dehumanize, clamp down on initiative and enthralment. Here, empty your soul into this lip service tick box.

Wow I`ve gone all numb, that was no sweetener but some tranquilizer.

If you think that one sent me weird, let`s try the mitigation pill. I have to say my heart sinks when I hear that word. Deeply flawed conceptually, how can you mitigate for land grab? Once grabbed, it`s gone. it’s a Dodo its dead, extinct a Norwegian Blue nailed to a perch (I apologise for the attempt at dark humour but it does bring out the hysteria).  Then they`ll talk about managing the little bit they have so kindly left, how they`ll stick up education boards and make the paths all nice ‘n gravelly. The cosmetization of nature. Glossy interpretation boards, brightly shining acrylic where nature is distilled down into soulless two-dimensional images attempting to echo life affirming three dimensions. They actually do supplant natures reality, lifeless distractions leaving superficial memorial impressions which are lost by the time we get home, and of course there`s always a possibility they become extinction boards a simulacre of what once was. You don`t get memories from shiny boards.

Not hard then to see which side of the fence I`m on….the one that says freedom for our bodies and minds to roam as no amount of barbiturates can take the edge off stealing nature.

The Raven is symbolic of the freedom, space and nature that is inherent at Swanscombe Marshes. Symbolic of how nature can enthral and excite and allow our spirits to soar,  yet each time we let these precious sites slip through our fingers another candle of hope is extinguished and our souls diminished. No amount of mitigation can make up for destruction of nature, as Edgar Allan Po`s Raven croaked it`s `nevermore`.