So often it seems there's little we can do to shift the biodiversity needle into an upward, improving direction. We're reminded on a daily basis of yet another species added to the 'vulnerable' category, let alone those declared 'extinct'. In the face of the overwhelming evidence of this sixth extinction process, combined with the climate change realities and predictions, it's uplifting to read a book about one family finding daily joys in the gift of nature "carrying on."
Simon Barnes' book, On the Marsh, takes the reader to his property in Norfolk. He and his partner chose to purchase the property because of its nature-living: effectively, it was a piece of land that could simply be allowed to carry-on without dramatic intervention, either in the form of human-made housing development or in a more effort-full, planned re-wilding project. The extent of their property was enlarged when their neighbour chose to sell his property and agreed to sell his acres of marshland to enable the Barnes' to bring the full marsh together. Together with the Norfolk Wildlife Trust they then worked to ensure the marsh was returned to having conservation values.
The book, though, doesn't focus on the 'making' of a revitalised wild place. Rather, it provides a reminder that often it's what we don't do that's important - leaving nature to get on with it. And, yes, slowing the decline in biodiversity - or "holding the line" - may very well be a collection of landholders and stewards doing just that, enabling land to be, ecosystems to strengthen, habitat to become a pocket of reprieve and opportunity for species otherwise pressured by habitat loss, climate disruption and biodiversity decline. Simon Barnes notes that this approach isn't "the solution", but honestly there is no singular solution. Indeed, we don't really know which actions will be the critical ones. Which combination will be crucial to a species' health and stability. Sure, we can guess; we can add educated guesses and scientific knowledge; and, where longterm, local knowledge still stands, we can utilise this, too, to better inform our actions. Perhaps, though, it's also about serendipity and positive "tipping points" - points in time and landscape connected to create time or, as some say, "buy time." It may be that one action enabled the smallest butterfly flutter that becomes "just enough" at "just the right time."
And, thus, there is a need to also enjoy and revel in the now - the seasons of survival, replenishment, satisfaction and migration. Neglecting the wonder of today won't help with the future; indeed, it's likely to diminish it. Living in the now, getting to know a place well in its own way, on its own terms is not a minor connection. It is what lifetimes become: the passing of time, keeping rhythm, providing structure and meaning gifted through regular visits by species, making their own homes, their own rhythms. Indeed, knowing individuals within a species becomes possible in such settings, something Simon Barnes reflects upon throughout the book.
This insight and the value of "being present" is also evident in the relationship Simon has with his son, Eddie. Eddie makes time change - he conjures it, so his father sees the 'now', can be present and share knowledge, jokes, walks, beer & apple juice and, most importantly, the bond of parent and child. It's a beautiful connectedness filled with good stories, nature experiences and some pretty good poetry. Eddie's journey over the course of the year is both ordinary and revelatory. In essence, this is all of our lives, if we can but see it. Simon's ability to connect with his son is special, precisely because Eddie's worldview grounds Simon and us in the connection between 'routine' and 'extraordinary.'
For some, the unique element in this book is that Simon features his son, noting Eddie's Down's Syndrome. And, yes, based on Simon's vignettes and reflections on how others often see people with Down's Syndrome, Eddie is different. Yet, each of us is different; it's what those differences bring to the richness of a family, a community and, ultimately, an ecosystem. This is actually the wonder of the book - Eddie is different, but not because of his Down's Syndrome. He's different because he connects and readily sees and lives in the here-and-now. It's such a privilege to have Simon and Eddie share their time and love with us, the reader.
Thank you, Simon Barnes, for this book, this tale of a family working hard, living the every day and appreciating the ordinary, so we can all see this - this daily life and love - is what's extra-ordinary. This saves our spirit and, who knows, may be the "vital thread" that moves that biodiversity needle a notch towards recovery.