There is a pear tree next to the back door of the curate’s house. It has been a joy over the last two weeks noticing it change – from having bare branches, to the first green buds, and finally watching the flowers develop and form fully into a riot of subtle whitish greens and pinks.
Last year I didn’t notice it until it was in full blossom. Perhaps I was distracted by the return to church and some minimal amount of socialising in April 2021. At this time of year change happens quickly, but at first subtly. If one does not pay close attention, one is confronted by it suddenly, especially if life is very busy.
Modern life can feel like it has been designed to disconnect us from the natural world. One of the things I noticed in my first week in Devizes was how dark and detailed the night skies were from my back garden, even in late June, with a fine view of the Milky Way. As a city boy who had been interested in stargazing since childhood, this was a surprise treat.
Even after all these years, I can remember quite distinctly what the northern skies looked like from my parents’ back yard in the mid-1980s. By this period, in a city centre location, the skies were already considerably affected by light pollution. Yet things have degraded further to the point that I estimate that about three-quarters of the stars then visible in Belfast with the naked eye no longer are.
Even in Devizes, the night sky is only a pale shadow of what our ancestors’ took for granted. The summertime Milky Way, for example, should be full of structure and complexity – while it is impressively ghostly here, detail is no longer visible from Devizes. Many more stars would have been visible than are today in this country, even in remote countryside; against the dark countryside, the night sky felt bright. I have experienced this, even in recent years, in Dorset where the councils turn many street lights off in the early hours.