Feeding the birds

On our way home from the vets last week we stopped in a café to break the journey. While sitting with our sandwich we noticed that there were groups of sparrows and robins watching us expectantly. We duly obliged by tearing off bit of bread for the birds to enjoy. It was clear that the local bird population had learnt that this was a good place to hang out as it was pretty likely that they would be fed.

Looking beyond the birds, who were tame enough to eat out of your hand, I noticed the faces of the other patrons of the café. It was clear that everyone else, old and young, were enjoying doing the exact same thing. Everyone was sharing their lunches with their feathered friends and thoroughly enjoying doing so. This is a long-standing pastime which has pleased people through the ages. Feeding the ducks is a common way to spend a pleasant afternoon in the park for town dwellers and Julie Andrews sang about the pleasures in the song “Feed the birds (tuppence a bag)” in the film Mary Poppins.

It lead me to think; “Why do we enjoy feeding the animals?” This is not the same as feeding farm stock, or pets. There is clear necessity to feed these animals and there are clear rewards also in terms of produce or affection. However, we seem to get pleasure from the simple act of feeding animals. I am aware that feeding often allows us to appreciate the beauty of these animals up close, and more easily than if we did not feed them, but I think it is more than this. These were sparrows which were capturing the attention of the cafe-goers not finely plumed, exotic birds of paradise.

I think the song gives us a clue as the reasons for our pleasure. In the song we are encouraged to spend money to feed the birds because :-

Come, buy my bags full of crumbs;
Come feed the little birds,
Show them you care
And you’ll be glad if you do
Their young ones are hungry
Their nests are so bare
All it takes is tuppence from you
Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag
Feed the birds,
” that’s what she cries
While overhead, her birds fill the skies
All around the cathedral the saints and apostles
Look down as she sells her wares
Although you can’t see it,
You know they are smiling
Each time someone shows that he cares

The pleasure we get from this activity is primarily being able to act well, being able to be kind and benevolent. In days when the media tends to spend an inordinate amount of time reminding us how badly people can behave it was pleasant to watch people revealed a truer aspect of our nature. As a species we have an inbuilt tendency and nature to want to help and care for others; not just for ourselves, our family and friends, but of all other people and even for animals of other species. It is in our nature to do this and it is very important to us. We need to be thought of as good we can not exist without it.

When I worked as a doctor I saw many people coping with a whole variety of differing illnesses. I was struck by how well people endured these. No matter how painful and distressing, no matter how disabling or disfiguring, the vast majority of people soldiered on bravely. Thoughts of suicide, and requests for euthanasia, were remarkably rare. On the other hand when I attended patients with depressive disorders the situation was much worse. When these patients were troubled by ideas of guilt or shame, when they felt isolated and removed from the affections of others, when they no longer felt themselves to be good people thoughts and acts of suicide became distressingly common.

As a species we need to feel that we are viewed as good. We need to know we are worthy of affection and love. We gain a lot more pleasure from being benevolent than through gratitude, as they say, it is better to give than receive. Feeding the birds reminds us of this important side to our nature. It is probably true to say that without the knowledge that we can be ‘good’ life is not worth living.


I have shewed you all things, how that so labouring ye ought to support the weak, and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive.

Acts 20:35

Post-apocalyptic Lathe Shifting

Post-apocalyptic Lathe Shifting

Yesterday my neighbour had a large lathe, to turn and mill metal, delivered to his door. Four guys pulled the palette off the lorry and drove off leaving it in his drive. It was enormous and heavy, and he was unable to move it. Luckily, shortly after this, a van with some local youths, on their way back from shearing sheep, passed by. They noticed his dilemma, stopped and helped him lift the crate up to his workshop.

After unpacking the lathe and assembling its stand in the workshop another problem became apparent. The machine weighed 300kg it was going to be difficult to lift it up, through the door, and onto its stand. I was passing, walking the dogs, and started to help. We fashioned a moving shelf with a car jack and a metal plate but, even with crowbars, we couldn’t get the machine up onto the shelf.

Luckily another farmer was passing bringing hay back from a field recently cut. We flagged him down and asked if he would help us with the last leg of the lathe’s journey. This was no minor request. This weighed over quarter of a ton, was difficult to handle and could cause serious injury, or death, if it toppled and fell. But none the less we all set to and after an hour of panting, groaning and swearing the job was done. We gossiped for a while about politics and Brexit, then I completed my walk with the dog, the farmer finished his journey with the hay, and my neighbour settled down to read the lathe’s handbook.

What struck me, as I was walking the dog, was how ready people are to help each other. Happy to help for no reward other than to be helpful. It struck me how often I see this. Or local community hall is run and shared by volunteers who maintain the grounds at their own cost and who give hours of time to organize local events. I recalled spending an afternoon with a man I did not know as we cut and cleared a tree which had fallen and blocked the road, and a prior evening when a different stranger had helped me round up someone’s sheep that had got out through a broken fence and were wandering the lanes. I have an evening booked, later this week, to go to the pub with some people in the town who, like me are Community First Responders, and give up some of their free time to help should anyone be in need.

Life would scarcely be liveable were it not for these multiple acts of kindness from strangers. If I drop my wallet, or leave my phone on the table, as I leave a cafe someone will call to alert me or run after me to make sure I don’t lost my property. Anyone with the misfortune to be in an accident will recall the offers of help from bystanders. Anyone lost knows you can ask a passerby for directions. Every day our interactions with others is usually helpful. When we walk on a busy pavement in the city we do not jump and jostle for space but step aside and ensure we can all move as freely as possible. It’s the way we are made, it’s our nature, we are designed to be helpful.

It is for this reason that I get annoyed with post-apocalyptic films and novels which suggest that when the state is destroyed we will all descend into barbarism. The usual scenario is, that after a disaster, man-made or natural, all the authorities have gone and our heroes have to travel across a land populated by villains intent on rape and murder. These dystopias paint a bleak picture of life without the state. The message is clear, without the state to protect us we world all be at risk from the murderous impulses of our neighbours.

This runs counter to our general experience. We rarely call on the state to defend us and every day we experience pleasant or useful communal interactions with our fellows. Our instincts to be sociable and create society are so innate and quotidian that we fail to notice them. Rather, we only notice when people fail to be nice and are, on rare occasions, rude to us.

There is a misconception that the state creates society. It does not, individuals by their nature create society. The state, by contrast, creates power; rather than fostering cooperation it creates compulsion and obligation. Humans do not by instinct kill each other, if you want to see violent and cruel behaviour you need a ruling class to compel it. The mass killings our species has seen (wars, genocide or pogroms) have always been instigated by a state and a call to the authority of a God, King, Nation or ideology. We have to compel people to go to war and sometimes shoot them if they won’t go – to encourage the others. People spontaneously build communities and society not war and oppression, you need a state for that.

Even the benign aspects of the state carry their risks. If, ‘for or own good’, the state looks after our welfare it takes it out of our hands. It means we do not make the choices and priorities, and we do not make the social bonds and links to promote our welfare. Charity, locality planning and fraternal organizations all become weakened when the state steps in. As the sociologist Frank Furedi noted :-

“Indeed, it can be argued that state intervention in everyday life corrodes community life no less, and arguably even more, than market forces. In many societies, people who come to rely on the state depend far less on each other and on their community. When what matters is access to the state then many citizens can become distracted, and stop cooperating and working with fellow members of their community”

In a practical sense, here is some free advice. If you ever find yourself lost in the desert, or jungle, or crossing barren windswept plains after a nuclear holocaust, and you see other people don’t run away from them. They are your best hope, do what all your instincts tell you to do and run towards them shouting for help; they probably will.

If we ever do see the breakdown of the state then I will be even more reliant on my friend and neighbours. We would quickly reorganise our local community again and people might take the opportunity not to return to power structures that we had lost, with all the inequality that accompanied it. The world would go on but sone of those who leeched of our backs would now have to fund a way to be helpful and productive.

The state might tell us whether we can buy a lathe or not, or might put taxes on its purchase to fund its own agenda, and it may punish someone if they steal it from us, but it doesn’t do much else. It didn’t design it, make it, or transport it, individuals working cooperatively did that. The state didn’t help us move the lathe in the past and we will still be able to move it, despite its weight, once the state has gone.

Pwll Y Gele

Pwll Y Gele

Over the recent months I have discovered that one of my favourite morning walks is the meander to Pwll Y Gele. This is a gentle stroll of just over three miles with no difficult terrain being largely on the road or good footpaths. The time of day, nor the weather, really matters much for this walk, as it always holds interest. On the outward leg you have open vistas looking towards Cader Idris and Foel Offerwm and on the return journey there is Aran Faddwy to fill your view.

If the weather is poor it is still worth the walk to see the clouds and winds whipped up like an impressionist painting over the mountains and the rain will soon fill the streams and waterfalls to make them interesting. On a pleasant morning, like today, the sun and its warmth will have brought out the birdsong which changes as you proceed through different birds areas. Although this morning the woodpecker and his tapping seemed to be everywhere

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Beacon

On a pleasant day there is much to be seen which will repay proceeding slowly. This is a meander, or stroll, not a walk to be taken quickly and earnestly.  There are many reminders of older agricultural and industrial practices if one is careful to look and not press on by. There are the oblong raised mounds which are the remains of the  domestic rabbit warrens from the days when rabbit was a staple meat. These are termed cony-garths or  conegars which is not a great deviation from the Welsh word for a rabbit warren of cwningar. The spelling is a little different but the pronunciation is largely the same. The old dry-stone walls show a pattern of farming quite different to that of today with many more smaller active farms. Here are there, there are the reminders of older practices such as the beacon towers used to pass information across long distances in the days before electronic communications.

Other mounds represent reminders of the old charcoal industry which was itself part of the iron industry which was important in these parts. It seems that on the edge of every hill there are the adits, looking like caves, which are the entrances into the many mineral mines in the area. One of the biggest reminders of these changes in industry is Pwll y Gele itself. Those who understand Welsh will immediately have a clue as to this areas importance in history, as Pwll Y Gele translates to The Leeches Pond. Indeed, a few hundred years ago Wales was the centre of the industry breeding leeches for medical use in Europe (In the Victorian days 42,000,000 leeches a year were used medicinally in Britain). Pwll Y Gele was one of the pools used for breeding such leeches. The leeches are no longer here but the area is still a wonderful site to see bird, animal and insect life.

Names, such as Pwll Y Gele, are valuable links to our past and there is a problem in Wales that sometimes these names are being lost. Names, which carry historical information, are sometimes changed by new owners of properties to something that they feel more pleasant on the ear. Thus Bwthyn Y Gof, the Blacksmith’s cottage, is bought and renamed Ashview or similar. People who do not know the meaning of these names, or who find the names difficult in their mouths, often change the names to modern English versions. Sometimes there is an attempt to preserve the historical link but often it is lost and another pleasant but anodyne name replaces an informative name which was part of the history of the area.

Some have suggested laws to prevent this occurring which is not a strategy I’d support People have the right to change the names of their houses as they see fit. It may well be that new names are, in fact required, as time progresses. If I open a church or sanctuary I may wish to rename my property to reflect this and we should not make the mistake of confusing heritage with culture. Out heritage and past do help create us, but our culture is hopefully always developing as we adjust to, and cope with,  new challenges.

However, our links to the past are important and we shouldn’t discard them unthinkingly. People who move into an area need to recognise these links and learn from them, so that they too can benefit from the knowledge they impart. They also need to recognise that when they rename, for example,  Y Hufenfa to The Old Creamery while they may have managed to preserve some information in the name (Hufenfa is Welsh for Creamery) they appear dismiss the indigenous language and to cast it aside. This looks and feels like colonialism ! In changing an established name they  run the risk of looking too aloof to learn new words, or seeming  supercilious in their avoidance of contact with the local tongue. If one wishes to settle in an area it is usually because the culture and history of the area appeal to you. This being the case, it would be anticipated that you would engage with the culture and the local life. If you convert your little bit of Wales into your little bit of England (Or Scotland) then  don’t be surprised if you are thought of as more an occupier or invader than a neighbour. In small communities society is strong and welcoming but you have to want to take part.

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Walking with an older staid dog

Perhaps there is one caveat I’d add before taking this stroll, that is – Go with quiet companions. I much prefer this walk with the older dog. With the young dog;  he is too excited by the sights and smells to behave sensibly, and 45 kg of excited dog bounding through undergrowth does not make for a relaxing and quiet walk. The same caveat applies to grandchildren. A three and six year old will be keen to have brought their bikes and scooters, the  noisy toy that they just bought, and will want answers to all the questions of the day – “Why is the sky blue ?”, “What is that mountain called ?”, “Why is it Cader Idris and not Cadair Idris ?”, “What’s a leech ?”, “Could a lot of leeches eat a whole sheep ?”, “Are we nearly there yet ?”. This noise will precede you and act as a warning for all the more timid wildlife who can then hide. This is unfortunate, as this walk goes through land which has a large deer population, and if one walks quietly (especially in the morning or at dusk) one is almost guaranteed to meet them as I did today.

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Still not witnessed by the grandchildren. Perhaps next year ?

However, my grandchildren and going to have to mature for a few more years until they are going to be able to share this experience. Meanwhile they are happy enough with the rabbits, squirrels and the dragonflies by the lake who seem less susceptible to the din.

 

 

 

 

 

 

On finding a bundle of stones

It seems that the artistic urge is an important aspect of us all. Even when we were, as a species,  little more than savage animals it seems that the urge to create things of beauty was there. The cave paintings of figures and animals are testament to this desire to create art. Primitive man spent time making objects, or decorating places, with no functional intent other than to please themselves and perhaps others. In a life that was hard and precarious this argues that this desire to create artworks is exceptionally strong.

In the modern world has been a tendency for this desire to be taken away from the populace and made into a commodity or skill which can be traded. Now we are much more likely to see ourselves as consumers, rather than producers, of art. But each time we doodle, whittle or whistle it should remind us that this creative desire is still there.

I was reminded of this when I was walking the dogs this morning and came across this piece of artwork  laid out on the wall at the side of the road.

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At first glance this may not appear much more than a pile of detritus gathered on a wall but it clearly is a work of art. Someone had obviously taken time to collect the objects needed – stones, flower, ferns, leaves and feather – and then spent further organizing them into a pleasing pattern with considered symmetry and planning. I an not see that this was done for any reason other than to please the person who created it. I can see no utilitarian aspect to its manufacture. It a work of art, something made purely for the pleasure of perceiving it.

It is probably more a work of art than many items we currently grace with that term, such as songs, statues, or paintings, as this was made with no plan of sale. There was no intention to trade this item for something else or for money. Its manufacture and perception were its purpose. Also unlike other works of art there was no intention for the artist to receive any other reward such as fame or renown. He, or she, has remained anonymous, content to have the pleasure of the object alone.

As a work of art it has fulfilled the one other aspect of such items. It was left for others to enjoy. A work of art will usually be intended to bring pleasure to others. It would have been possible for the creator of this to make their artwork then brush the leaves and feathers off the wall leaving no trace. However, it was left on display to find and to please its audience, and, unlike many modern art displays, the audience did not have to pay either money or respect for the pleasure

Someone I will never know made something that brightened my morning and they will never know that they did that. The artistic impulse that has been with us from the dawn of our species still manages to break out and surprise us.

via Daily Prompt: Savage