Green

 

‘Isn’t it quiet?’ Mary remarked as we walked along the road. We stopped. Silence.

‘It won’t be like this if the windfarm gets approval,’ I replied, gesturing towards the Hill of Fare, a mile away. A supporter of the desperate need to move forward with green energy production, I oppose this particular wind farm on so many fronts: the hill contains radioactive elements which could damage health if disturbed; there is no infrastructure in place to take the generated power south, where the developer would eventually sell it on to consumers in England and the continent, so the energy will be generated without an outlet; outstanding natural wildlife habitat and recreational areas will be ruined; local roads will require strengthening and widening to carry the giant turbines during construction, and so on. Noise and flash irritation are real, but not the main reasons for my objecting. (www.naefare.com/object-now for more information)

We walked on, pausing again to listen to a birdsong we couldn’t identify and didn’t think we had heard before. It was beautiful. Will we hear it again?

We passed the logged wood, harvested after Storm Arwen devastated it. A visitor once took me on a walk round those woods, many years ago, and identified the songs of 35 species of bird. Thirty-five. Now there is only silence. Their habitat has gone.

The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it. I am lamenting this morning as I think of the selfish way we live, not husbanding this beautiful planet but just destroying it for our own pleasure, our own gain.

Lord, give us wisdom and grace that we might find ways to live in harmony with the natural world.