Last Words

"As a species, we live neither as free and independent individ­uals, nor as completely integrated social organisms like the bees. Rather, we live tribally; and our tribal behaviour is all too often far below the standard of the best among us. Intelligent we may be as individuals; but as social collectives we behave churlishly and with ignorance. I think that our inability to live in harmony with each other and with the Earth comes from this disparity — from the gap between the power of our human collectives to act, and the feeble intelligence that directs that action.

 As individual humans, or as small groups hunting and gath­ering, we once lived in symbiosis with our planet. When we began using fire, tools, and agriculture, we became more dependent upon each other socially, and also more powerful and numerous. We had the potential to sustain our own envi­ronment at the expense of the Earth; to break our contract with Gaia. At first the breaches were mild, just the wearing of cloth­ing and the building of houses. Then we began to herd our food prey, cattle, and to grow our favourite food plants. But right up until the beginning of this century none of this, nor the indus­trial civilizations that had evolved, were significant in them­selves to the Earth. The danger lay in the potential for further growth and development. Now the consequences of that growth in our numbers and development of our capacity to dis­place the rest of planetary life, threaten both us and our planet."

James Lovelock, (1991)



GOING, GOING by Philip Larkin. (January 1972)


I thought it would last my time -
The sense that, beyond the town,
There would always be fields and farms,
Where the village louts could climb
Such trees as were not cut down;
I knew there'd be false alarms

In the papers about old streets
And split level shopping, but some
Have always been left so far;
And when the old part retreats
As the bleak high-risers come
We can always escape in the car.

Things are tougher than we are, just
As earth will always respond
However we mess it about;
Chuck filth in the sea, if you must:
The tides will be clean beyond.
- But what do I feel now? Doubt?

Or age, simply? The crowd
Is young in the M1 cafe;
Their kids are screaming for more -
More houses, more parking allowed,
More caravan sites, more pay.
On the Business Page, a score

Of spectacled grins approve
Some takeover bid that entails
Five per cent profit (and ten
Per cent more in the estuaries): move
Your works to the unspoilt dales
(Grey area grants)! And when

You try to get near the sea
In summer . . .
       It seems, just now,
To be happening so very fast;
Despite all the land left free
For the first time I feel somehow
That it isn't going to last,

That before I snuff it, the whole
Boiling will be bricked in
Except for the tourist parts -
First slum of Europe: a role
It won't be hard to win,
With a cast of crooks and tarts.

And that will be England gone,
The shadows, the meadows, the lanes,
The guildhalls, the carved choirs.
There'll be books; it will linger on
In galleries; but all that remains
For us will be concrete and tyres.

Most things are never meant.
This won't be, most likely; but greeds
And garbage are too thick-strewn
To be swept up now, or invent
Excuses that make them all needs.
I just think it will happen, soon.


‘an apprehension of transcendent landscape has profound implications for how we live, for then their exploitation, like  our exploitation of each other, becomes sacrilegious as well as immoral… through an appreciation of the imaginative power of landscape, we come face to face with the living reality that is the ground and source of our being…’

Alex Wright Face to Faith The Guardian


In the Preface for the 1930 edition of the CPRE Survey of Cornwall:

Although the ultimate object of this Survey is to protect the Natural Beauty of the Duchy, for my own part as a Cornishman I had rather preserve the old Independent Character of its sons …
…but at least let me implore the reader beyond Tamar to help us in protecting our noble Coast from defacement by the Philistine. It used to be ours the priceless if barren inheritance of a little clan. Let those whom we welcome to share our love of it help us to preserve the primitive beauty of this delectable Duchy as a national Possession.


The defenders of Penwith will continue to fight all attempts to ravage and disfigure this most precious part of Cornwall, however influential our opponents and however skilful in disguising their plans as economic blessings. We will fight simply because the penalty of failure is too awful to contemplate, and because the reward of victory is simply that our descendants may in centuries to come look forth over this favoured western land from Trencrom or Chapel Cam Brea, and see that some part at least of creation is still good.

 "The Battle for Penwith" by P.A.S. POOL, M.A., F.S.A. - Reprinted from the Cornish Review 1970 (final paragraph).


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