This morning a box of presents for a jackdaw

Decided to give my jackdaw another chance at freedom this morning. 

The morning opens out of the box of night,

 like presents laid on a table for a child,

wrapped in birdsong and tied with silver dew,

My jackdaw is sitting in the poplar tree,

the tallest around,

eating a breakfast,

of sunlight and stardust,

If I could fly,

i would come too, over the fields,

 show you a thing or two about,

dung beetles.

Just to fly for one day, one time,

may be worth the ever lasting death,

to stretch your wings and be one with the sky,

i will never know.

Keep up, keep up,

the jackdaw is alighting in the hawthorn,

and with forensic  beak,

inspects each new born leaf.

There is so much to know,

old man's beard, white bryony,

soft mud and creased wood,

the gnawing frosts of winter.

Love, is not confined to our kind,

when one loves a jackdaw,

perch on my shoulder and groom my hair,

life fills with conundra.

 I fear, I worry for 

your safety, but 

I want you to feel the breeze,

the september sun is warming.

And you have chosen this perfect morning

nothing would stop you,

you sat all night in the pouring rain

to have this morning.

I stand my feet on my balcony and call

and out of the woods,

the canopy of light and green,

you answer me.

Go find your friends,

I shout,

You chat back,

a teenage bird on a high.

Sometimes, its possible to set free,

and to truly love back

and not come back

to  love freedom more.

Sasha x 

'The luckiest man in Basingstoke and outlying districts'

For the Funeral of Andrew Robert Fraser 

The Sustainability Centre, East Meon, Hampshire

12th April 2013 

Dear Anwyn, Bruce, Jesse, Layla, Charlie, Graeme and friends and family of Robbie,

 I know  Robbie would wholeheartedly approve, if I take a few moments to recognise  Becky and the true love she shared with Robbie. I have  been close friends with Rebecca Alyson Hay for our entire adult lives. While I would like to say our friendship is a balanced one, the truth is that Becky has been there for me in a way I have never been able to repay.  I have sought her counsel, loving patience and intelligent guidance throughout my life. When my Father died in 1996  it was Becky who saw me through the complex grief and chaos that accompanied that loss.  Becky has, as Robbie might say, put a lot of money in the bank of love.

 Becky has also, over the years, had her fair share of unhappy times. So it was with joy and huge satisfaction that we saw her settle under the broad wing of this man, set up home, nestle in and become a vital part of his family.

Becky softened Robbie's hard edges, but, because she loved and approved of him, she didn't dampen him or cause him to lose any of what made him so special. The embodiment of the expression 'still waters run deep', calm and compassionate Becky was Robbie's perfect compliment.   Robbie and Becky had that elusive kind of love  that only bolsters each other's confidence,  and sense of security. Every time I have called Becky since she got together with Robbie, and asked  'How are you doing?',  she has replied, 'yeh fine'.  And that spoke volumes, that means Becky was happy and happy and happy.

When she met Robbie she was massively attracted to him. She loved  his absolute honesty, no game playing, no nonsense, you knew exactly what you were getting. It probably wouldn't surprise people to know, says Becky, that Robbie was just a little a bit sexist. Becky knew Robbie was with her for life, when after a few months, he said:

'You're excellent, you've got a man's brain, you are Jason Flowers in a pretty woman's body'.

Working from home, they spent every day together. If Becky was out of the house for more than an hour, Robbie would be on the phone,  'Bubla, what are you doing, what are you up to?'.  Becky takes comfort from the thought they shared almost every moment of their six and a half years.  She describes as being with him as 'second nature'

Robbie had many nick names for Becky, some unmentionable.  He called her 'Mouser' and 'Bubla', and 'His Compass', because he said,  'He would be lost without her'. On Becky's birthday card he wrote,  two days before his accident, 'I am the luckiest man in Basingstoke and outlying districts'. Robbie always admired the relationship between his parents. Bruce has as much  affection and love for Anwen as when he married her nearly 50 years ago. Becky feels that this model of lasting respect and affection was modelled by Robbie towards her.

Robbie and Becky had a unique kind of domestic bliss, lived life to the full, and were unquestionably a partnership for life.

And so, on Good Friday,  Becky and friends were heading to a  holiday cottage in Dorset in the car with Robbie following on his motorbike. Becky experienced what we all dread happening to one we love. He never showed up. In the Basingstoke Gazette it says Robbie's bike was a Christmas present - it is important to Becky to say that in fact he bought it for himself.  

After the accident, Becky and the children were advised by his doctors that while Robbie may be very disabled he would nonetheless live. Perhaps in the worst case scenario he might have locked-in syndrome,  in which he would exist, totally conscious with all his  personality intact, but unable to do anything at all apart from make eye movements.

 You, becky, our dear friend, sister and daughter,  said you would do anything, commit your life to nursing him, you would make him be Ok with it. You, as you have done since you met him, would set him right. 

You described to me how  imagined it -   

we can sit with a beautiful view, we can cuddle, I can read to him all day, his children can kiss his face,  he can get to see them married....

They told you in the hospital:' your life is going to be massively restructured , he will need 24 hour care'.... 'That's all fine',  Becky  said,' I'll do anything'. You chose with every fibre of your being to try for any kind of life with your beloved Robbie.

Throughout the emotional undulations my adult life, Becky has quite literally kept me alive with her compassion. Therefore, I know  that If anyone could have nursed Robbie through, it would have been Becky.  But this situation did not require all the beauty that you offer Becky. This was the nuts and bolts of the human brain failing to function.

Robbie had a massive stroke, they operated, but he never came round. The doctors made the decision, that his life support would be taken from him. HIs life and his death, out of your hands.

People flocked to the hospital to see him before he died. Even the staff were crying, his personality shining through his friends  and of course, lovely Becky, through you, even though he was unable to speak for himself.

During the 4 days that Robbie was alive following his accident, three families came together to keep vigil, and Becky feels this is testament to how Robbie managed relationships so well.  Becky,  Libby, his ex wife, her husband , Robbie's former brother-in-law and his children, his current brother in law, his parents and his children. This was enormously comforting for Becky despite the appalling circumstances.

Libby and Tim, Becky wants you to know that you are not alone parenting your gorgeous children  and that Robbie was delighted that Tim had come into their lives. He would take a lot of comfort from knowing that deputy dad is there for them.  

To the children, Layla, Jesse, and Charlie,

 Becky wants to say, "when the four of us are together, your Dad will always be among us. I  have always loved you , but never have I been more grateful for your warmth and gentleness and humour  than in the last two weeks. It has really  become clear to me just how like your  Dad you are and I am so grateful for that. Watch out world three more Fraser's are about to burst forth. "

Becky,  I most grieve, for the unfairness of life, that can mess up so profoundly something that was just so right. Something going well for a change, something we could all aspire to. This death has rammed home that ever-present weird paradox of the human condition that we can love and love and love and then lose so profoundly.  No amount of love can conjure the human body to work again once it shuts down. If love could perform this miracle,  we all know, Robbie would be here now.

On the Sunday after Robbie's death, with the blessing of his family, Becky put a ring on her wedding finger to represent her widowhood. Jessie and Layla went down on one knee and proposed to Becky on behalf of their Dad. 

We can know that Robbie would want this, and that when his big, beating heart ceased to beat, it was stuffed full of love for you,  Becky. One irony is that, this uncomplicated love  will make you miss him so much, but will also sustain you and Layla, Jessie and Charlie, his parents and brother  through the healing and recovery from this death.

And for your friends? There was,  as I was  driving here yesterday, through the grey swathes of rain, a tiny patch of white light over the Ridgeway.  It will take years for you to recover from so intimate a loss, but one tiny patch of light for me in this horrible tragedy is it that it may afford me  the opportunity to repay some cash into the Becky bank of love. A chance to give back to you lovely, left-behind creature, a  tiny fraction of the devotion that you have offered to me, to all those who love you and of course,  and most importantly to Robbie .

Sasha Norris Friday 12 April 2013

Wet and wildness

WATER

 

What would the world be once bereft of wet and of wildness , let them be left…

Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1881.

I once met a man dancing the streets of Barcelona completely naked. On his back the words were painted, ‘Somos Agua’, we are water. Water is the most precious resource on the planet, because we are made up almost entirely of water and no living thing can survive without it. You may think that’s ok, because we live on a blue planet. Well, our planet is not as watery as it appears. 98% of the water on its surface is salty seawater and unfit for consumption. Most of the rest is locked away in icebergs. Only 0.2 % is available in our freshwater river systems. This system is a closed one. Water gets recycled in it, but no extra water is available should we consume too much. But Britain is so rainy I hear you cry! The trouble is, we are so wasteful with water. As society’s become developed, industry and agriculture place extra pressure on our drinking water reserves.

Water in Industry and Agriculture

It takes 10 litres to make a newspaper

27 litres to make a plate of French fries

250 litres to make a glass of orange juice

20,000 litres to make the body of a car

The naked man was protesting against the proposed water development systems in Spain which are taking precious water from the natural ecostystems of Pyrenees and the River Ebro Delta.Huge pipelines all the way to the south of Spain, a thousand miles to feed the growing golf courses and polytunnels, which supply us, with goods.

Indeed, 68% of water use goes to agriculture, which also pollutes our waterways with 90,000 tonnes of phosphorous and 1.2million tonnes of nitrogen.With a global population growth rate of 80 million people a year, many leading environmentalists believe the next world war will be fought over water.

Loss of wetlands

Britain used to be soggy all over, providing homes for countless creatures from otters to dragonflies, salmon to snipe. Whenever we turn on the tap, and bring this precious resource into our lives, we are taking it away from all of the other creatures which depend upon it..

Since 1945 we have lost

three quarters of our reed bed,

two thirds of our grazing marsh

94% of bogs

Wasting water

Every week each person in their home uses more than 1000 litres.

26,000 litres a year wash our clothes

Most (one third) goes down the loo 6 litres every time we flush

What a wasteful thing to do with the most precious resource in the world!

Appreciate Water

My Zimbabwean friends know the value of water. They walk a long way each day to fetch water and because of this use it carefully and sparingly on what matters. We have lost sight of how important it is because it flows so readily. But take a moment to appreciate water each day, it sparkles like diamonds and is more precious.

Suddenly he came to the edge of a river- never in his life had he seen one before. All was a-shake and a-shiver, gleaming and sparkling, the mole was enchanted.

 Kenneth Grahame, Wind in the Willows.

Seven ways to save water

The most important message from today is to THINK about water and how you personally use it, and try to reduce consumption and WASTE of water wherever you can.

1. put a brick in your cistern
2. drink water not fruit juices/soft drinks which take much more water to produce: much better for you as well and use water filters rather than bottled drinking water – www.freshwaterfilter.org.uk
3. take a shower not a bath (I shower with my baby – she loves it!)
4. never use a sprinkler – try a water can!
5. use short bursts of water when brushing teeth – don’t leave the tap running
6. only use the washing machine for a full load
7. eat organic!

Finally, if you want to help the needy in the world who are without clean water, contact www.wateraid.co.uk or for more info on water saving contact the Centre for Alternative Technology for more help on 01654 702 400 www.cat.org.uk

Feel positive

Don’t let all this get you down. Being eco-active should make you feel positive and uplifted, because you are doing something important for the planet and taking responsibility for your life. The naked man in Barcelona was dancing. If I ever need reminding that water is precious, I think of him!

Sasha Norris

Furzy Pig Rescue!

This time it was a hedgehog, on absurdly long legs, running across the lane at Orcop, chased by two carrion crows, baying for blood. It was a valiant creature, only three inches or so long and a perfect miniature of Mrs Tiggy Winkle. It ran for its life, and being outnumbered and considerably outsized was athletic and impressive in its efforts. I stopped the camper, noted the exact position of the hedge hog on the road and and picked up the little brown ball of pins, carefully. I phoned my friend Hugh Warwick, who has had lifelong love of the prickly fellows, and recently published The Hedghog Dilemma. We debated its chances.  

The road was in a kind of trench, the ground height being above the tarmac by about three foot. The hedge towered above us, another eight foot, thick and inpenetrable. Beyond was a field of grasses, in full bloom, hayfever central. I nosed around, looking for mum and nest, or siblings, seeking beneedled creatures in a living haystack.

I had a choice, release the baby hedgehog on one side of the road or the other, hoping it would be reunited with mum, or 'rescue' it, a difficult option because always, always, animals are better at being mummy's to their offspring than humans are. I called too, the Wildlife Hospital at Gloucester. Something was wrong for this little hog to be wandering the by ways of Britain in board daylight. Between us, and between moving the car out of the way of irritated drivers, we made the executive decision that her best chances of survival were in my care.

 So nestled in my airing cupboard is another ancient creature of the night to add to my collection. Hope, as the children have named her, has been checked over by Maureen. local hedgehog rehabilitation expert from Ross-on-Wye, and is in good health. She goes from strength to strength eating Hill's Science Diet cat food, a luxury meat mousse which she laps fervently with her long tongue. In between meals, she sleeps tucked up in a fleece bedding.

 Hedgehogs are officially the cutest animals in the world.

Sasha x

Athene: gleaming eyed Goddess of the night

Its 4am and Athene will be waiting for me. She will have been there  all night, sitting bolt upright, eyes staring. She doesn’t speak, or make any sound, but she hears everything, like it’s amplified through festival speakers. I am her mother  and she is a beautiful, but strange child. She is waiting for her meal of raw meat, which she will swallow without chewing. She rise up in a dance of defense when I go to her, threatening to  attack. In case you haven’t guessed, Athene, is an owl.

I received a call last Monday morning for my local vet. They had a tawny owl chick in the surgery, and could I please collect and care for it. I have been mum to, among many others, lambs, and puppies, humans and  jackdaws, mice and even ants. I have not had the privilege of looking after an owl. I found the prospect slightly daunting. Athene however, trusted me, and gazing up with her enormous inquisitive eyes, gladly ate the meal I offered her of chopped up day old chicken meat. Ten days on, I can report she is probably the best behaved baby I have had.

Her wings are growing, she is learning to fly, and one day soon she will return to the wild..

Owls are much better at being parents to baby owls than I am. I am a diligent and loving adoptive , mum but her own mum would have known how to hunt mice, where to look for the best prey, the flight paths through the woods,  how to climb up a vertical tree trunk, using your wings and talons and crucially when to sleep.

I feed Athene very early in the morning and late at night and sometimes during the day. When I feed her in daylight hours, she is full of sleep, her huge brown eyes blinking at me. At night she is alert and ready for action, but we are all out for the count. It must be hard being an owl baby in a human family.

One problem that can make life difficult for tawny owl families and increase the risk of chicks finding themselves on the ground, is lack of suitable nest sites. Grandfather trees with wide trunks with hollow interiors are rare. So, after making ten nest boxes for smaller birds early this year, Salvador (aged six) and uncle David are going into production making owl nest boxes. Whatever fate befalls Athene when she leaves us for the wild night, she won’t be short of a suitable home to raise her chicks, when the time comes.

It is against the law to keep a tawny owl chick unless you intend to release it. It is also illegal to do anything to that chick that may hinder its release to the wild. That of course would include taming her too much.  It’s a fine line between leaving her alone so that she doesn’t habituate to humans and giving her some company and stimulation so that she doesn’t become bored. So it’s a relief that Athene is not scared by my presence and will happily eat her dinners, but maintains a healthy disdain for being picked up or bothered. She clacks her beak which when she arrived all fluffy and hunched over seemed a little pitiful as a defence, but now she is bigger and sat on her perch she is more menacing. She also extends out her wings and dances from side to side if she feels really threatened, which is an impressive sight. She is in a way, both baby and heroine, frightened sometimes and also a little frightening with her huge staring eyes, powerful talons and that confidence only true predators hold.

I look forward to the day when Athene will fly free into the woods surrounding our home. Until then I will go to her in the early hours, called by her gleaming eyes and fluffy head. With her intelligence and courage Athene has won our hearts and admiration. She is well-named.

Also this week, Phoebe, our sheep, who we raised from an orphaned lamb into a fine ewe has become a mummy.... but that is another story, soon to be told.

Sasha x