With my woolly hat pulled down hard over my lugs, boy it was cold out, still less so than yesterday. I headed down to the cycle track, and on towards Guardbridge, then climbed, what is locally known as the West Third. Up and into Strathkinness dropped down the hill on the other side to the crossroads at the other side of the village. Here I had intended turning left and back, wind assisted, into St Andrews. The powers that be had given up on patching on top of patches and were now scarifying the road so I was forced to continue up onto the unclassified road back home via Graigtoun. It is all down hill from this second crossroads and today wind assisted, so I was soon back at City Park, faced cheeks glowing like Rudolph’s nose, and grinning like a fool from the exhilaration.
I love this time of year, the freshness of it all, the stunning skies at dusk and dawn, the clarity and detail of the surrounding landscape. May have to dig out my long johns, for they tell us that snow is on the way, (and people will soon have to scrap that Global Warming, from their windscreens.)
I watched a documentary on television; it was about a frog that I knew nothing off. The species is known to be quite widely distributed in the Western Ghats, ranging from the Camel’s Hump Hill Range in the north, all the way to the northernmost portions of the Agasthyamalai Hill Range in the south of India.
Named the Purple pig-nosed frog, its long nose helps it slurp insects and termites since it lives much of its life underground. During the heavy monsoons it comes from it’s borrow to mate. They mount females and grip them amplexus along the vertebral column. Around 3000 eggs are laid in a rock pool and the tadpoles metamorphose after around 100 days and have little suckers to help them cling to rocks in the fast flowing streams.
The makers of the film spend many wet dank nights, in the dark, monsoon drenched forests, searching for their quarry to photograph. What came over very strongly was that global warming was upsetting the monsoon seasons, sometimes late sometimes they simply did not arrive. And although the natives of the area could adapt quickly to the rising temperature their crops and the frogs could not, now less and less male frogs are finding females to mate with. If they can not find a mate during the two weeks monsoon season then it back underground they go until next year’s monsoon season.
What troubles me, the evidence is everywhere, global warming is real, its here, we live with it every day. Yet the politicians seem to have this attitude,
“It will be all right on the night”.
When nuclear power was hailed as the saviour of mans energy needs, back at the start of the 1960s. When we were told that the electricity would cost so little that it would cost more to send out the bill than the cost of the electricity on that bill. And when people asked about ‘The nuclear waste created’ how would we dispose of it? When people asked about the ‘cost of decommissioning’ how would it be paid for? The answer from the politicians was very woolly – we have plenty of time to work that one out. They have not, worked it out, and the problem is still with us six decades on. The poison chalice has simply been passed down from Labour to Tory – Tory to Labour. Will global warming received any more urgency? – dream on.