Can it be a fair COP?
This blog premiered last year with a visit to ‘The Moors’, and we make no apology for having re-visited on a roughly quarterly basis. A wetland, urban nature reserve in north east Surrey, the Moors is a marvellous example of what humans and the planet need, to remain healthy and low carbon.
With the recent publication of the latest International Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) report one hopes that the whole world is reading and thinking about just that - climate change. One also hopes that the contents of the report will be fed into national government policies around the planet, with lots of trickle down impacts to deliver action right at the roots of local communities. Hope is cheap. Action is not. Riches are unequally distributed.
The IPCC was set up in 1988 by the World Meteorological Organization and the United Nations Environment Programme. ‘The objective of the IPCC is to provide governments at all levels with scientific information that they can use to develop climate policies. IPCC reports are also a key input into international climate change negotiations.’ (https://www.ipcc.ch/about/).
The Panel’s latest report, published earlier this month, is entitled ‘Climate Change 2021, The Physical Science Basis’. The title sounds a bit like an advertisement for hair products, but just skimming through makes for a heavy and uncomfortable read, although it is not totally without hope. Below are a few key headlines, although you have probably already heard them via the press and media.
“It is unequivocal that human influence has warmed the atmosphere, ocean and land.
Widespread and rapid changes in the atmosphere, ocean, cryosphere and biosphere
have occurred.”
“Human-induced climate change is already affecting many weather and climate extremes
in every region across the globe. Evidence of observed changes in extremes such as
heatwaves, heavy precipitation, droughts, and tropical cyclones, and, in particular, their
attribution to human influence, has strengthened.”
“Many changes due to past and future greenhouse gas emissions are irreversible for
centuries to millennia, especially changes in the ocean, ice sheets and global sea level.”
But
“Scenarios with very low or low GHG emissions … lead within years to discernible effects on greenhouse gas and aerosol concentrations, and air quality …”
https://www.ipcc.ch/report/ar6/wg1/downloads/report/IPCC_AR6_WGI_SPM.pdf
Looking at the Moors, trying to think globally and act locally, it is depressing how very obvious climate extremes have become. In 2020, we had a prolonged spell of very warm and dry weather. The wildflowers bloomed profusely and provided massed stands of vibrant colour.
This year, as noted in Blog 31 (The Darling Buds), spring was late and, apart from a brief dry spell, rain has been exceptionally plentiful. Growth has been lush and massive - huge leaves, oversized trees - and the overwhelming palette of The Moors has been very, very green. Now, in August, as we shiver in our pullovers while drying sodden umbrellas, the greens are still the dominant hue. Spring’s hint of white has been replaced by over-tones of yellow, blue and red, but the contrast with last year is still remarkable.
2020’s vibrant stands of tufted vetch are now battered and tired, the common agrimony and willow herbs are isolated and low key, and the latter (below right) weighed down by a flourishing growth of black bryony.
The ragwort continues to flourish but its normally ubiquitous companion, the cinnebar moth caterpillar, is notable by its absence. By this time last year the teasels had strutted their stuff and where dry and brown. This year they are only just getting to their peak.
Climate change does not necessarily mean plant extinction but may mean plant migration. At somewhere like The Moors, species which have not done well in 2021, may have a chance to return next year. Meanwhile other species, such as buddelia and water mint, have done better in the wet weather, and species which are much more unusual may appear, such as marsh woundwort (in this case, struggling with another vigorous black bryony) and chicory.
The sheer mass of growth has also changed the character of The Moors this year. Where paths are lined by trees, the canopy is thick and has already developed the dark green foliage of late summer. Shading has kept the cycle path remarkably open. Enchanters’ Nightshade has crept to enjoy the shadows and stinging nettles are thriving on the now damp areas of richer soils. Nearer the brook, and on a windy day, the vastly expanded willows do an excellent imitation of a William Morris wall paper. Between the lakes, where no tree has much of a roothold, the path is virtually hidden by the explosion of vegetation. The craft skill of last year’s hedgelaying exercise is now obliterated by substantial new growth.
Summer downpours have proved to be a heady mix at The Moors. The water levels thoughout the wetland are at winter levels, yet the vegetation is responding to summer temperatures and light levels. Although not currently flooded, the wetter areas of the cycle path are as muddy as in winter. All water bodies are full yet the eruption of vegetation growth has hidden the smaller seasonal ponds from view. Woe betide anyone who tries to take a walk through this apparent meadow of purple loosestrife, below right.
The Brook has vanished completely, except for one point where somebody has cleared a narrow track to the bank, as though checking that the stream still exists.
What will COP 26 and climate change 2022 bring?
Redhill and the Railways
Surrey, Terroir’s home county, has plenty to offer when obedience to Tier 2 rules and foul weather makes ‘further afield’ a difficult place to visit. As one of London’s Home Counties, Surrey’s history is worthy of a blog in its own right and I will return to that another day. This week, however, I wanted to write about a single Surrey town – somewhere I could reach easily in a pandemic. The transport hub of Redhill, in the east of Surrey, certainly falls into this category.
Redhill is a Victorian railway town. I would argue that it is the least typical of what many associate with a ‘Surrey style’, whether in terms of architecture, townscape or reputation. Redhill lives under the shadow of the older, prettier and much sought after town of Reigate, and to which it is now joined at the hip by urban expanson. Some residents of Redhill (postcode RH1) actually aspire to live in a house with an RH2 postcode (Reigate of course) and do make the move across the intangible boundary between the two. Redhill (or Red’ill as its detractors like to call it) is perceived as the poor relation with all sorts of unattractive characteristics. Why is this?
Historically the area was a marshy valley with a few scattered hamlets. When the South Eastern Railway Company scouted for a route from London to Dover (to access the continent, how ironic), they tunnelled through the North Downs and turned sharply left for Dover at ‘Warwick Town’, only later renamed Redhill. Some considerable and confusing railway shenanigans later, local stations were rationalised and the one which is now at the core of Redhill was built and roads adapted to provide a decent infrastructure.
Redhill was also lumbered with the re-routed main highway from London to Brighton, but the town still remains amazingly unrecognised. Conversation goes something like this: Q: ‘Where is Redhill?’ A: ‘On the route from London to Brighton’. Response: ‘Oh’. Not helped by the fact that the later (20C) alternative London to Brighton railway route goes under Redhill in a tunnel.
But:
Redhill has some honest and attractive Victorian and Edwardian architecture. It is amazingly well supplied with green space, based on extensive local commons. It has phenomenal transport infrastructure - railway lines in four directions, a not unreasonable bus service, lies between two M25 junctions and is 20 minutes from a major international airport, while not being under the flight path. Newer (and less attractive) office buildings provide some local employment, and commuting to employment hubs such as London, Croydon and Brighton is pretty good.
So what’s wrong? Why do people flee to Reigate which has a significantly poorer train service and where housing is significantly more expensive. I would suggest that there are a number of factors. Housing density is higher in Redhill than in Reigate and there are fewer larger houses in Redhill. Most houses were built without garages and on street parking has made it very difficult to appreciate the architectural details. Where houses have tiny front gardens, most have been converted into off street parking, removing any vestige of personalised, soft, varied, greenscape or characterful fencing, and making on street parking even more difficult.
Infill has been a huge curse, replacing many a charming run of Victorian/Edwardian terraces or semis with a hotchpotch of styles (including uninteresting and unadorned blocks of flats) shoehorned into tiny plots to maximise housing density, and with no garden space in front, let alone down the sides. Many of the local Victorian and Edwardian ‘big houses’ were also pulled down to make way for much smaller dwellings, or facilities such as the local sports centre, or converted into flats with no individual garden space except a sea of car park tarmac. Modern design, whether residential or more public is also poor or bog standard. The result is that much of Redhill is dominated by cars, is invisible, impersonal, uninspiring, unowned and somewhat unloved.
Oh and the brook, which once flowed through the marsh, has been placed in a culvert through much of the town.
But, if you look carefully, there are some amazing details still in existence. Tile hanging, decorative plaster work, a whole series of cupolas and towers, and remants of the former hamlets. The High Street has been pedestrianised (a saving grace in Covid times) and provided with some excellent (but also some not so excellent) tree planting.
Here is Terroir’s take on some of the quirky and often unnoticed Redhill gems. Please note - this is not an architectural tour of the town but a personal response to some of the more heart warming details.
But to end on a postive note in praise of modern additions.
We have only recently come across this little haven of modern housing, illustrated below tucked peacefully away from through routes. Despite the - albeit very sculptural - defences on the sub station wall, the enclave exudes pride, ownership and relaxation.
The pedestrianisation of the old town centre intersection between the High Street (on the line of the London to Brighton Road) and Station Road has been a godsend to Redhill and permits a lively market on three days a week, attractive sitting areas, shade and a restful escape from the hustle and bustle. The tree planting and seat design is of slightly variable quality but the benefit is enormous. And, someone, somewhere, understands plants, climate change, dry gardens and the local authority need for low maintenance, creating some delightful public realm planting. Winter photographs do not do it justice.
