The green fields were are stark contrast to the barren hills. We were still in largely preindustrial agriculture with horse and cart and beasts of burden.
Egypt – the rural life alongside the Nile
A Narrow Belt of Colour
A Narrow Belt of Colour
A narrow belt of bright colour on the sea of monoclonal green;
An elongated oasis of life among the sterilised land;
A thin strand.
Within these tiny parameters,
Vestiges of what once was,
Nature makes its last stand.
Opher 7.6.2021
As I went for my daily walk here in early June I was heartened by the thick swathes of flowers on the verge and hedgerows of the country lane.
The other side of the hedge was a great sweeping field of wheat – identical plants, sown in rows, all the same age, carefully supplied with nutrients, sprayed with pesticide and herbicide and nurtured into a huge sweeping green desert in which nothing else can live.
The other side of the hedge was a sanitised nightmare.
One day, when we are gone, the verges and hedgerows will reclaim the fields, the vestiges will expand to become all, and the land will spring back to life again.
Poetry – Welcome to The Green Machine
Welcome to The Green Machine
Welcome to the green machine;
The factory of the country.
Once a forest full of life,
Now the nation’s pantry.
Sprayed to death,
Devoid of life,
A veritable green desert.
Once a thriving
Nest of creatures
Now completely inert.
The ponds and streams
Are all filled in.
The hedgerows all grubbed up.
If you’re a hedgehog
Seeking a home
I’m afraid you’re out of luck.
There’s no room at this inn
For any of you wild things.
Particularly if you’re an insect
With a double pair of wings.
Welcome to the green machine;
A sterile brand of hell.
A wasteland of automation
Producing the hard sell!
Opher – 17.10.2020
What looks like green countryside is really a well-oiled factory. Nothing lives here. If anything moves it’s sprayed or shot.
The crops are sown by machine, tended by machine and harvested by machine.
It looks green but it’s a million miles from nature.
Poetry – Once we were in Heaven
Once we were in Heaven
Once we were in heaven;
Part of everything,
In harmony.
Tempted by the apple
Of agriculture;
Its parsimony.
We gave up our hunting band
For worthless diamonds in the sand.
Opher – 19.10.2020
The worst idea we ever had was to give up our natural way of life, hunter gathering, and trade it in for servitude.
Once in harmony with nature we are now out of control, our numbers swamping everything.
Instead of a life of excitement, skill and brotherhood, we have work, slavery, war and subservience.
The worst idea we ever had.