‘If life is going to exist in a Universe of this size, then the one thing it cannot afford to have is a sense of proportion.’ Douglas Adams – The Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy
One of the best things about being back in the green and pleasant land is the opportunity to explore the public footpaths and thoroughfares of the English countryside. This is a joy I am not afforded south of the equator, partly because walking alone – especially as a female – is not a safe idea, and partly because to access some of the, admittedly, very beautiful places around Cape Town requires travelling in a car to reach them. To be able to step out of the front door and very quickly find oneself in a place of greenness is a fantastic privilege.
However, thanks to recent arctic temperatures followed by the melting of ice and snow, almost all such paths have turned themselves into a gloopy mix of chocolate sauce-type consistency. These now provide superlative mud slides that threaten limb, if not life, and make walking heavy going. Last weekend I came back with such massive clumps of mud on my boots I could have opted for planting something rather than cleaning them.
The comparison between the two hemispheres caught me yet again as I walked through some woods where red and white tape fluttered around a small copse of half a dozen trees where an area had been roped off. I expected to see a chalk outline and reference to some grisly murder, so was somewhat surprised to find only two small branches that had broken from the trees during the bad weather.
The scale of the damage in relation to the scale of the precaution was laughable. We’ve all heard about the madness of ‘Health & Safety’ but this seemed to be next level. In Cape Town, there are regular rock falls along the coastal roads noted mostly by sporadic notices suggesting some caution might be a good idea. Occasionally an entire road has to be closed which means half of it has probably fallen into the sea and debris the size of family cars is strewn across whatever is left of the road. That was true of Clarence Drive last winter. In those instances, a bit of tape is probably a good idea.
The way that we, in Europe, catastrophise so much of life seems preposterous. Teachers exert children: ‘Don’t run; you might trip over.’ ‘Don’t climb trees; you might fall down.’ No wonder we have a generation that is congenitally risk averse. We might just as well say, ‘Don’t get out of bed, you may have a rough day.’ How about: ‘Enjoy running; you’ll get there faster and enjoy the feeling of freedom.’ Or, ‘Keep climbing: have an adventure up there!’ Reckless exhortations, apparently.
For the people of Los Angeles who have had a series of extremely bad days in which they have lost not just their equilibrium, but their entire house along with treasured memories, photographs and irreplaceable accumulated bits and bobs, the scale of devastation is real and ongoing. I can barely begin to imagine the level of loss and trauma for those who’ve barely escaped with their lives and whose homes have now been reduced to ash.
Douglas Adams’ quote is from his hilarious and absurd sci-fi trilogy (of five; yes, I know) which kept me thoroughly entertained throughout my A’level years. In that context (and you’ll have to read it to discover what that is) it makes perfect sense, but here on planet earth we could probably all use a bit more of it.
[Images #3 & 4 from Pixabay; £1 & 2 bloggers’ own]
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