Paying homage to the Father of Ecology
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ON a golden, October afternoon, I’m waiting on a window seat, in the Great Parlour of Gilbert White’s house, in Selbourne.
I’m about to give a talk on my newly-published book and am feeling more than a little awed.
I make pilgrimages here. The Rev Gilbert White was a pioneering naturalist, the ‘Father of Ecology’ his book The Natural History and Antiquities of Selborne was published in 1789 and hasn’t been out of print since.
Charles Darwin was a fan. David Attenborough and Chris Packham are. And here I am.
I wonder at the connection between us, between all lovers of nature.
Gilbert White made local, detailed observations and understood the importance of connectivity and the significance of things bigger than he was.
He enjoyed the idea of exploration, but was afflicted by debilitating travel sickness. And he was a community man, invested in his parish; so he travelled without going anywhere.
He did this through correspondence, conversation and debates, held in this very room.
He was a man ahead of his time. He gardened, farmed and didn’t separate nature from anything he did.
He studied it much as we do now; not by hunting, killing and collecting specimens, but by observing things in their natural habitat. In this way, he connected to the rest of the world.
During lockdowns, the museum began a hashtag, #BeMoreGilbert, making the link between his local records and what we noticed on our own small patches.
It struck me, in the light of that perfect October day that, in many ways, he and I are doing similar things (if I dare make the comparison).
But there is a hugely significant difference. He was recording and noting abundance and decoding mysteries; while I am recording and noting loss, and trying to get others to act upon what we undeniably know.
Gilbert White advanced the science of natural history and engaged others, leaving an enormous legacy – while I am chronicling the decline of nature against our increasing recognition of a dependence upon it, as well as our inability to address what it means to us and our survival.
His writings are a legacy; a revelation in the wonder of life on earth.
I don’t want mine to be a eulogy for a dying planet. I want it to drum up resistance to that loss; to inspire a love for it that might allow us to marvel in the sort of discoveries he made – that owls hoot in B flat, for example.
Because, down the long, golden room, Gilbert and I are at opposite ends of a long decline.
Wild Diary
Join me at Thatcham Festival on Saturday (3pm-4pm, Thatcham Library) where I’ll be reading and discussing my new book. Free, but please book through www.thatchamfestival.eventbrite.com