Long summer days. I take my bike
through fields of maize, enjoy a hike
through nature which decays and fades
below the sun, without real shades.
Water is sparse, efforts a farce;
records are shattered every week,
the future seems a little bleak.
Some keep silent, some play dumb,
some object, but their effect
seems paltry, like a tiny drop
into an ocean, and they stop
too soon: there is no change.
Another flood, another slum,
1000 dead, and thousands fled,
a joke compared with what's to come.
It will be millions without bread.
It will be billions' awful threat.
Sometimes, it feels like I am already experiencing symptoms of an aging body and mind: I am getting more conservative, my back often hurts, recovery from sports takes longer, and suddenly I appreciate trees. And flowers. And birds.
In my younger days, I was convinced that birdwatching is boring; but it has grown on me. Birds are adorable. From the smallest goldcrest to the great bustard (hopefully I’ll see one someday), every type of bird is so unique and fascinating and there is so much to learn: about their behaviour, calls, appearance, and migration patterns. Depending on the employed definition, there are between 10,000 and 20,000 bird species on earth. In Scotland we saw at least 63, many of which I have never seen before. I was a real treat to experience the puffins, razorbills, and guillemots at the coast. On our last day alone we spotted a spoonbill, a barnowl, sedge warblers, and a gannet, none of which I had ever seen before.
But again, the climate is changing everything: The spoonbill populations are slowly shifting north due to the increasing temperature. We got told that it was only the second time that an individual was spotted at the small lake where we parked over night. It is estimated that 15% of all species might go extinct soon (in evolutionary timescales) because they cannot cope with the rapid changes of the climate. Around our hometown some bird populations even increase, but the majority declines. Especially endangered are those that breed on farming grounds because of the streamlined agriculture occupying large amounts of space, often with monocultures. On the bright side: At least around here there are also increasing amounts of ‘Blühstreifen’, strips of wild herbs and flowers that are incorporated into the conventional agriculture and run along all the fields of wheat and corn. And if it doesn’t work out for the birds, my personal contingency plan is to just see all 10,000 species soon enough.
Record temperature highs all around, forest fires all over Europe, and an advancing drought that threatens food and energy production – only a small glimpse of what will come.
So, instead of exposing ourselves to the constant stream of news, we enjoyed some of the beautiful nature nearby by hiking the P25 trail near Kleinalmerode. It’s one of the newest premium trails in Hesse and the closest one to our home. Normally, Kleinalmerode is known for its cherry blossom in late spring; but during this time of year we strolled through barley fields, found lots of insects scaling cornflowers, and observed bumblebees exploring the landscape of flowers. It also revived my passion for macro-photography and hopefully I’ll manage to use some more of these long Summer days to pursue photography.
A small selection of pictures taken on our way to and on the Isle of Skye, Scotland. Dramatic weather made for some interesting skies during the middle of the day, but (near) constant rain spoiled the hiking and photography fun. Skye is beautiful; but so is the mainland. However, unlike the mainland Skye is flooded with tourists. So we agreed that this single visit is enough for us for now.
I’ve been bouldering a lot (on plastic) recently and it feels great to be back in form! But the last time climbing is a looooooong time ago. At least until last Sunday morning, when I finally managed to squeeze in a short climbing session with my long-time friend and climbing partner. Everything is different outside: Bad footholds, fragile sandstone, and being on a rope high above the last clipping point. Sometimes, a slight fear of falling creeps into the mind. Sometimes, even the good footholds seem tiny and slippery.
Basically, it’s the same as with my current work project: It feels a little insecure, but you keep pushing, little by little, one move at at time. Take a deep breath, do secure movements, calm down, climb high. And luckily, in climbing and in life, there are people who catch me if I fall. Thank you.
The road's last bend, the world does end
right here. The sphere succumbs,
a lonesome spot remains.
Mountains looming, all consuming
oceans everywhere.
The soul gets lost and tossed around
between the dunes and seagull sounds.
This place will stay when we decay,
mere joy engraved that does transcend
the end of our finite time.
As Berlin soils are as dry as never before, the number of applications for private wells is at an ever high.
Part 1.
While hardly anything is more important than clean energy, the compensation for private households for feeding solar electricity back into the grid is at its lowest point in 20 years.
Part 2.
While we have to stop immediately investing into fossil fuel infrastructure to keep climate warming below two degrees, a multitude of countries is opening up new oil and gas drilling sites.
The vastness of the Cairngorms was especially appealing to me. With 1107 square kilometres, the Cairngorms are Scotlands largest national park – perfect for getting lost in nature and a paradise for hiking. Apparently, it’s also a paradise for capercaillies as we noticed pretty quickly: They were quite abundant and apparently the courtship was in full swing. They didn’t display for the camera though, in contrast to Stonechats and Wrens. Especially for the latter one, it was a treat to see it so close in the late evening hours. Besides, the Cairngorms host 5 of the 10 highest mountains of Scotland – watch out for one of the next posts which will be all about the Munro mountains.
There is always a first time: For a change of scenery, todays post will be in German. Don’t worry, though – the next one will be in English again.
Altbau-Büro, bald grau – heilfroh, dass Schottland kommt, dass flott Strand kommt, das raue Meer, ins Blaue, mehr entspannen, ohne Pannen: Urlaub kommt. Und, mit Verlaub: es ist auch Zeit. Bereit zu Zweit, wir sind soweit. Für eine kleine Ewigkeit. Ciao Tagesschau und Alltags-Stau, ich schau stattdessen in den Guide der aufgestauter Fantasie jetzt Deutlichkeit verleiht: Weite Landschaft, breite Strände, steile Gipfel, Landzungen-Zipfel, gelb und grün hinein getupft. Die Vögel kühn, die Landung sanft, die Brandung tost tief unten. Die bunten Puffins sind gehüllt in Nebel der die Bucht erfüllt. Und kaum erdacht, schon ist man Fracht auf einer Fähre durch die Nacht. Halb acht, wacht auf, habt acht, bedacht: Der Linksverkehr führt gleich ans Meer, die Küste naht als wüsste sie wo unser Pfad heut enden wird. Mehr braucht es nicht, wir leben schlicht; die Straßen leer, der Ginster dicht. Wir fahren frei – der Sonne nach – der Wonne nach, wie's uns gefällt. Kein News-Beschuss, nur Bus-Genuss. C++? Mitnichten. Frei von Pflichten, nur noch Dichten, Vögel sichten: Tordalks, Möwen, Trottellummen, die Welt singt los und wir verstummen.
Punkt im Dunkeln 