Not all bad . . .

The coronavirus has brought grief, fear and economic breakdown.  It has also given rise to a sense of global uncertainty and impotence.

Nonetheless, may I, for a moment, put forward the argument that the situation is not all bad

Take climate change.
The almost total absence of aircraft in our skies, and the marked reduction of vehicles on the roads, has dramatically reduced the carbon emissions we are sending into the atmosphere.  Whilst Covid-19 may not have stopped climate change, it has certainly slowed down its formerly rapid progress towards ecological breakdown.

Take self-isolation.
This may be, and is, frustrating and limiting . . . but it has also produced innumerable acts of generosity and kindness.
It has brought communities together, and it has forced a society, which formerly never even paused between actions, to sit and reflect.

Self-isolation has caused us all to look out of our windows and ponder on what we can see . . . it has given us time to think.

When going out into our gardens, thanks to the absence of aircraft and traffic, we notice the birdsong.
Each day thousands of people are now joining the Facebook page of 'Rewilding Britain'. 
Why?  Because, for the first time in their lives, they're eager to identify the individual birds by their song.

And then there are the unexpected benefits.
All the homeless of London have been taken off the streets and housed and cared for in a large hotel.
Over half a million people have generously volunteered to help the NHS . . . whose selfless, dedicated work has been an inspiration to us all.
The coronavirus has brought the world together in unity of purpose.
Whilst, on a personal level, an opera singer, who is self-isolating in my apartment block, comes on her balcony each afternoon to lighten our day with an operatic aria.

And did you know that, if you visit the Kew Gardens' website, you can now take a tour of the gardens online?
Or that, despite its cancellation, the Chelsea Flower Show is planning a virtual show in May?

We are pausing, we are reflecting, we are learning.  We are discovering how,  as rapacious caterpillars, we ravaged the earth . . . we are considering the best way forward for the future.

And what will we be like when, humbled and thankful, we finally emerge  from our cocoons?

Let's hope we'll be transformed into butterflies . . . altruistic butterflies, ready to embark on a new life on a changed planet.

Waitiing in the Wings

I've recently been watching a video which gave me pause for thought.
May I share some of these thoughts with you?

As I see it, the world is in need of imaginal cells.
What do I mean?  Let me explain.
Imaginal cells are the cells inside the caterpillar which emerge in the larval stage and slowly unite to form the butterfly.  As the caterpillar's other cells disintegrate, so these new cells gain strength.

Ultimately, a previously hungry, destructive, earthbound life-form is changed from within to become an air-bound creature of delicacy and beauty.


I wonder, did something else come to mind as you read that description?
Wouldn't you agree that, at this point in time, our world is caught up in a similar state of confusion and self-destruction . . .  and that we, too, are desperately in need of imaginal cells to bring about a similar transformation?

We won't dwell on the confusion and antagonism that is surging around at the moment . . . let's look instead for the possible existence of those life-changing cells.

First of all, surely they can be found in all activists for climate change, and in every effort being made to conserve the environment, and to show love and respect for our fellow creatures?  Only this week, an imaginal cell was activated in Oxford.  The principal of St. Edmund Hall, Prof. Katherine Willis, made the inspired decision to coat the walls and terraces of the college with flowers, plant life and shrubbery.  What a pleasure for every passer-by . . . what a benefit to the Oxford environment.

And that wasn't all this week.  It's only a matter of days since the Girl Guides in the UK made a pledge to tackle plastic pollution.

Imaginal cells are found in trust, compassion and understanding.  They thrive on happiness and love, and shine the light of positivity into the darkness of negativity.

It would seem that we have a choice to make . . . are we to be part of the disintegrating and self-destructive caterpillar, or imaginal cells with our sights set on future transformation?

Is there a butterfly waiting in the wings . . . ?

We can only hope.

To watch the two-minute video I mentioned at the beginning,  click here  . . and enjoy!

What can we do?

At a time when we're all badly in need of good news, I apologise for drawing your attention to a powerful video that's far from encouraging.
It lasts for little more than one minute, but it packs some hard punches.

And the subject it covers?
Yes, you've guessed . . . it's plastic.

As we learned last week, micro-plastic particles have somehow managed to spread to the remote, snowy wastes of the Arctic.  Plastic, it seems, has permeated every corner of our planet.

How did it achieve such a feat?  To give you one alarming example, whenever plastics are dumped in landfills, the hazardous chemicals seep underground when it rains, infiltrating into the aquifers and water table and indirectly affecting groundwater quality.  It's a sobering thought.

And that isn't all.   Did you know, at this moment, you and I are inhaling particles of plastic?
Recent comprehensive tests, undertaken in both urban and rural areas, have shown conclusively that plastic particles are to be found in the atmosphere.  What's more, they're now known to have infiltrated the food we eat.

And things get worse.  Plastic, which was originally made from cellulose found in plants and trees, is now almost entirely made from oil, natural gas, coal and minerals.
It could well be said that, in excavating for the source of plastic, we are making a major contribution to climate change.


However, it's a complex situation because there are other important factors.
Did you know that here, in the UK, we produce over one and a half million tonnes of plastic raw materials annually?
Not only that, with the UK's plastic processors consuming over three million tonnes, the UK is one of the five top processors of plastic in the EU.

I'm typing this letter to you on a plastic keyboard,  I've just been speaking on my plastic telephone . . . plastic is big business.

Yet, whilst accepting that plastic is now an inevitable component of modern life, with a factor to play in our economy, surely we should be attempting to remove the large percentage of unwanted plastic that our thoughtlessness has allowed to escape into the environment?

If, as it would appear, we are all of us breathing, eating and drinking invisible particles of plastic on a daily basis, isn't it time to take action?
Surely we should be doing everything we can to extract it from the air, the water and the soil?

With which thought in mind, let's return to the video I mentioned at the start of this letter.
I'm sure you'll agree that it needs to be seen, it needs to trigger our anxieties and activate our future actions . . . so, please click here.

LATER
Thank you so much, Marion, for your immediate response, and for telling me of the tiny nation which is waging war on plastic - there's still room for hope.
Let me share this encouraging development . . .  click here.

Action needed now

I wonder if you  heard the sobering news that came out of Alaska last week?

For the first time since records began, the temperature in this US state, part of which lies inside the Arctic Circle, rose to ninety degrees Fahrenheit.
When one takes into account the fact that, at this time of the year, the normal temperature in Alaska is around fifty degrees, that is a mind-boggling increase.

The outcome?
Not only is the ice melting on an unprecedented scale, but the state's economy is suffering accordingly.
In addition, thousands of puffins are dying . . . the fish they need for sustenance are moving further north to avoid the warming seas.

But Alaska isn't alone, let's switch our attention to Greenland.  Here the story is equally serious.

It's hard to accept that the huskies in this picture are paddling through water that, until quite recently, comprised a firm surface of frozen snow . . . climate change has reduced the surface area to water.

Wouldn't you agree that we are, in effect, on board 'The Titanic', fast approaching the iceberg of climate destruction.   However, instead of concentrating on the approaching iceberg, we're most of us fixated on our current political chaos.
When some new climate revelation hits the headlines, we briefly register shock.  But, all too quickly, this is pushed into the background and our attention goes elsewhere.

"We shouldn't be talking about 'climate change', it's a 'climate crisis'," declared the UN Secretary General's representative recently.  "This isn't about the future," she insisted, "this is about today, adaptation and resilience are urgently needed now."

True, in this country, although the temperatures are rising, we're not faced with the prospect of losing our homes to rising water levels, as are the inhabitants of Bangladesh.

However, as the waters rise around the planet, so the amount of habitable land is shrinking and the world's population is growing.

What's more, the turbulent weather is worldwide, only this week fatal floods hit northern Spain  . . .  we are all in this together.

So, let's follow the guidance of the young people, and take the UN's advice to heart.
As Sir David Attenborough told MPs in the House of Commons yesterday, the climate crisis must be at the forefront of every consideration, making it the key motivation in all we do . . . reducing our carbon emissions, eating less meat, making fewer journeys, and, above all, treating our irreplaceable planet with the care and respect it deserves.
Time isn't on our side.

May I leave you with the thoughts conjured up by a very sobering video from the southern hemisphere.  Click here to see just what it is that we've activated . . . and let it inspire you to do something about it.

Anything we can do . . .

"Anything  you can do, I can do better.  I can do anything better than you."
So wrote Irving Berlin in his well-known song.

It's an attitude that we humans have adopted in relation to all other life on the planet.  In our eyes, we can do better than anything else.

But have we, I wonder, been very, very wrong?

If you happened to read the January issue of"The National Geographic Magazine", or watched "Springwatch" last week, you'll have been as surprised as I was to learn that plants can 'hear' bees buzzing.
Not only that, they can distinguish the buzzing of a bee from the buzzing of a fly, and respond accordingly.

In a recent experiment, scientists found that, when a bee flies near to a flower, the plant will produce  a sudden burst of extra sugar to entice the bee to alight and pollinate.  The buzzing of a fly, or any other similar vibration, fails to produce the same response.

And did you know that trees communicate with each other below ground level?
The forester, Peter Wholleben, tells us that trees work actively to keep every member of their community alive.  The key, it seems, lies in the so-called Wood Wide Web.

He writes of fungal networks that link the trees' roots and form a wide-ranging network of communication.        Trees, it seems, nurture their saplings, curb the aggressive, and generally keep their community strong.
Trees care for each other.

Click here to watch a fascinating video which demonstrates exactly how the Wood Wide Web operates.

Another surprising fact that's come to light recently relates to moths.  Despite going through the biological meltdown that turns them to 'soup' in their larval stage, scientific tests have shown that moths have clear memories of the environment they experienced as caterpillars.
 A moth with memories?  It's an intriguing thought!

However,  did you know that, thanks to our destructive interference, the insect population is at crisis point?  Seventy per cent of the UK's insects have disappeared in the last twenty years.
What's more, we've destroyed a tenth of Earth's wilderness since the turn of the century.
We've a lot to answer for.

But let's return to the song that started our discourse.
Let's acknowledge the fact that life on Earth isn't a question of competition . . . of doing better, of being better.  This is where we've got it so very wrong.
Every species on this planet is part of the whole . . . an inter-connected, integrated whole.  Each has its own vital and intelligent part to play.

Mightn't we be wise to show a little humility?

Shouldn't we think, as we hurry heedlessly along, of the silent but active fungal communication taking place beneath our feet?
Shouldn't we pause to watch in wonder as the bees answer the summons of the nectar-laden flowers?
Are we totally forgetting that the oxygen produced by trees, and the food germinated by insects, are vital to our survival?

After all, when it comes to the crunch, it's we who need the natural world, it hasn't the slightest need of us. 
No scientist would disagree with that proven fact . . .  but surely, if we're to survive, it's one we should take very seriously?

A breaking bough

Perhaps the most unexpected outcome of the recent fire at Notre Dame was not what was lost, but what was saved.

The majority of the irreplaceable treasures inside the building were taken to safety.  The altar and the choir stalls survived.  The stonework and most of the glorious, stained-glass windows remained intact.

But which of the survivors of the fire were ultimately of the greatest value to the world at large?
Surely it must be the two hundred thousand honey bees who were housed on the roof.  Initially, the bees were thought to have died, but the carbon dioxide from the fire put them to sleep.  They were later discovered, intoxicated but alive, safely housed inside their hives.

There's no denying that Notre Dame is both awe-inspiring and truly magnificent.  But, much as we would miss such fine, historic buildings, ultimately we could exist without them.

However, as Albert Einstein declared, "If the bee disappears from the surface of the earth, man would have no more than four years to live."

As in Paris, here in London we are also supporting bees.
This week, a seven-mile long 'bee corridor' is being planted in Brent in an effort to boost the number of pollinating insects.

But, worldwide, there is little good news on this front.  Our indiscriminate use of pesticides has caused the insect population to go into sharp decline.

Nor are they alone.   I'm sure you've read details of the very sobering, UN-backed report that was published the other day.  It didn't pull its punches.

Over a million species, it states, are currently threatened with extinction.  The world's biodiversity is fast vanishing, and one in four species is at risk of disappearing.  This includes forty-three per cent of amphibians, twenty-five per cent of mammals, thirty-four per cent of conifers, twenty-two per cent of coral reefs, and fourteen per cent of birds.

Tell me, when did you last hear a skylark  . . .  or a cuckoo?

And the reason for this dire situation?
Yes, you're quite right.  As with the the current climate crisis, human activity is largely to blame.
Habitat degradation, thoughtless exploitation, deforestation and plastic pollution lie at the heart of the problem.

We are, in effect, sawing through the branch we are sitting on . . . and it won't offer us security for much longer.

Have we arrived at this realisation too late?  Who knows.  With many world leaders denying climate change, with mass felling of the remaining rain forests, and our UK politicians preoccupied with Brexit, it would seem that there's little or no hope of a positive political initiative.

However,  the people at large may be waking up and experiencing a change in perspective.

Not only are we losing patience with our political leaders, but, more importantly, we are becoming aware of wider issues.

For centuries we've put our economic needs at the top of our agenda.  Albeit belatedly, we're now realising the need to bring the intrinsic value of nature into our economic thinking.

For centuries we've considered the human race to be separate and superior to all other species.
At this eleventh hour, could it be dawning on us that we're but a fragment of an united and inter-dependent whole?

And this is where, as I'm sure you've noticed, two people have stepped into the limelight.  Two people who strongly believe in our ability to wake up and change . . . one of whom is old and experienced, the other young and passionate.

No-one has done more to draw our attention to the critical situation of life on the planet than the veteran naturalist and broadcaster, David Attenborough.

Whilst the Swedish teenager, Greta Thunberg, prompts young people worldwide to take action, motivates the Extinction Rebellion movement, and succeeds in rallying politicians to her cause.

So, with David Attenborough to instruct and guide us, Greta Thunberg to inspire us, and the bees of Notre Dame and Brent to give us hope . . . we may not deserve it, but surely there's still time to strengthen our fragile branch before it breaks?
And, if you want to petition Parliament for support, then why not click here.

Good news from the front line!

It's hard to come across good news at the present time, but here's a hopeful story from the United States which I'm delighted to share with you.

What's more, it comes from a most unlikely source . . . and could even have a happy ending!

As you'll remember, when Donald Trump was campaigning to be President, one of his campaign promises was to build a wall along the Mexican border.

We can think what we like about walls in general, but, by and large, as structures between nations they haven't a good history.
The Berlin Wall, and the current wall in Jerusalem, spring to mind . . . together with the tensions and divisions they've both caused.

Trump's Mexican wall is strongly opposed by the Democrats and, until recently, seemed unlikely to receive the necessary massive funding.

But all that changed last year when the President took matters into his own hands.

Nonetheless, it seems there's still ground for hope.  The President's plan is being opposed and taken to Court. 
And who are the litigants?  You'll never guess!
Believe it or not . . .  it's the butterflies who are fighting back!

The fight is being waged from The National Butterfly Center, a preserve in the heart of the area in question.
Occupying over a hundred acres of marshland, brush and scrub forest, the Center runs beside the Rio Grande River and along the border with Mexico.
A much-loved environmental preserve, it is now at the heart of a raging debate.

The Directer of the Center, Marianna Trevino Wright, whom you can see in this photo, has confidently embarked on what could prove a multi-year series of Court battles.

"We're suing," she says, "over the violation of the National Environmental Policy Act, and the Endangered Species Act, and the de facto seizure of our property, as well as multiple other egregious acts by Border Patrol."

Having already raised over $100,000 from countless keen supporters, she intends to continue this battle for as long as it takes.  Her tenure as Director has no time limits.  Donald Trump, on the other hand, is shortly up for re-election.

As we'd all agree, an aspirational cloud of butterflies is a sight to take one's breath away.

Might we hope that they'll fly higher in the Court's estimation that the President's fear-fuelled ambitions?

We can hope . . .
The one certainty?  Time is on the side of the butterflies!

Some good news!

Would you like some good news for a change?
News that isn't controversial, disruptive or alienating . . . news that will bring us together, something to celebrate and endorse?


With all that's been going on over the past few weeks, these items could easily have escaped your attention.
So, to restore your faith in humanity, let me share them with you.

The news in question relates, rather unexpectedly, to the country's prisons.
Did you know that, in this country alone, over two hundred thousand children have a parent sent to prison every year?

It's a sobering thought, and the effect on each child can well be imagined . . .  these children proving three times more likely than their peers to fall into anti-social behaviour. What's more, over fifty per cent of boys who have a father in prison will, unsurprisingly, go on to offend themselves.


So, what's been happening to help correct this disturbing trend?  First of all, a prison in North Somerset had decided to take serious action.  A new wing has been added which is used exclusively for family visits.  This has become a place where the prisoner can respond intimately to the needs of his children . . .  where time can be spent playing, cuddling, or helping with homework.  What's more, if a prisoner wants to learn more about his child's progress at school, teachers are being encouraged to visit the parent in prison.

The outcome?
To date, the children concerned have reacted with considerable positivity.  Most of them now feel more comfortable at discussing their parent's situation.  The sense of stigma has eased, and the parent in prison continues to play an important and active role in their lives.


Nor is the prison in North Somerset alone in recognising the need for improved prisoner/child relationships.

In 2003, Sharon Berry, a writer and prison visitor, set up a charity called 'Storybook Dads' (later to be joined by 'Storybook Mums') which, at that time, operated from Dartmoor prison.

Now, sixteen years later, a hundred prisons are involved in her scheme.
And what do they do?  They encourage prisoners to make audio recordings of stories, stories which can then be listened to and enjoyed by their children

Not only do these recordings provide an invaluable link between the prisoners and their families, but the act of making the recording offers the prisoner an occupation that is both positive and creative.
It's an activity for which they receive the charity's guidance and support, something to be valued in the often hostile environment of prison life.

And the outcome for the prisoners?
Those collaborating in this scheme have shown a markedly diminished tendency to re-offend, whilst family relationships have been sustained and broadened.

So, please, whatever the news this week, whatever the turbulence, discord and divisions . . . just remember that in some prisons, at least, life is actually becoming better!

A Blue boyfriend

Hello, it's Chloe here . . . my Mum's out at the moment, so may I share some rather exciting news?

My life, as you know, is spent mostly with my Mum . . .  and with other humans. True, there's the occasional meeting with a fox or a squirrel, but, by and large, it's just humans I have for company. Not that I'm complaining . . . I like humans . . . humans like me.

Do I miss other cats?
Well, between you and me, I've never even considered that question.

Not, that is, until the other day when Mum and I were in the garden.   I was walking down the path, minding my own business, and . . . well, you'll never believe what happened next.

My whiskers positively quivered with amazement . . .  a very large, ginger cat was striding up the path straight towards to me!

Where had he come from?
True, he was rather handsome, but such a confident approach needed to be put in its place  . . .  I looked him in the eye and hissed! I hissed loudly . . .  even if his intentions were honourable, he needed to know straight away that I was no pushover!

I must admit that his response surprised me.  Instead of backing off, or hissing in return, he curled himself around my Mum's legs, blinked a lot at her . . . blinked a lot at me . . . and then sat down on the grass.

Now that I could see him properly, there was no denying the facts. He was, indeed, a very fine cat.

My Mum read the tag on his collar and told me that his name was Blue. It would be nice for me to have a friend, she said, and stroked Blue on his head . . . I wasn't at all sure that I agreed with her.

As Blue didn't seem to want to leave us, my Mum lifted me up onto a garden seat.

This was a good move on her part . . .  it meant that I was higher up than he was, and could study this unexpected new arrival from a safe position.

But do you know what he did?
He crossed the lawn, made his way under the seat, and started blinking up at me through the slats. It seemed a little rude to hiss back at such a very polite approach . . . so I decided to blink instead.

Oh my . . . that certainly encouraged him! Seconds later, he'd jumped up on the seat . . .  settling himself at the other end, where he sat and washed his paws. I was more than a bit startled by this move, but, yes, I must admit it . . .  he did seem a very clean and well-mannered cat.

Finally, after we'd been sitting there for quite a while, my Mum said that we should be going in.
And, do you know, I wouldn't say this to my Mum, but I was quite sorry.

Anyway, when we went into the garden today who should reappear . . . ? Yes, you've guessed it . . .   it was Blue.

As you can see in this photo, we're now on friendly 'sit and look at each other and blink' terms.

Perhaps my Mum was right after all. Wouldn't you agree that, if a cat should happen to be thinking about having a friend, Blue has the perfect credentials?

He's persistent, he's handsome and he's very polite. What's more, he's not as fortunate as I am. He seems to be all on his own. He certainly doesn't have a lead with a Mum on the other end.

I wonder, do you think my Mum might consider asking him to tea?
It's quite possible that he's never tried lemon cake . . .

We'll see what happens, . . . and, I promise you, if there's any news to report I'll put my paws straight back on this keyboard and tell you all about it!

Under a flowering cherry tree . . .

Before we start this letter, may I ask you a question?
After looking at the photo on the right,  tell me, where do you think it was taken?


Those magnificent trees outside the windows would certainly indicate a rural area.

Perhaps it's a cafe in the New Forest . . . ?
Or, as I'm about to reveal, perhaps not.

Will you believe me when I tell you that I took that photo way below ground level in the heart of London?
In fact, this is the Reception area for the Radiotherapy Department of the Royal Marsden Hospital in Chelsea.
Deep down in the basement of the building, it's an area I visited this week.

The windows you can see are false, the view is an illusion.
What's more, it's a carefully created illusion aimed at offering a sense of peace and tranquillity to those waiting for appointments.

True, they could have hung pictures on the walls to raise the atmosphere.  But how much more imaginative to install false windows, create a fake view, and enlist the support of nature to lift the anxieties of those waiting?

Like everything else at the Royal Marsden, it's designed solely for the welfare of the patients.

You may remember that, in our last exchange of letters, we looked at the therapeutic benefits bestowed by animals.  As the Royal Marsden clearly recognises, the natural world is equally capable of offering therapeutic benefits.

The wound from my mastectomy having healed, I was there to make plans for a course of radio-therapy.  And, shortly after taking that photo, a helpful nurse escorted me to a clinic for a CT scan. 

Here I was received another surprise . . .  who would have thought that I'd have experienced the scan under the spreading branches of a flowering cherry tree!
Look at this photo and you'll see what I mean.
There I was, lying on my back and gazing up at a beautiful, tranquil view . . . a vista guaranteed to soothe and heal the most anxious of patients.

Since first going to the Royal Marsden last August, I've had nothing but admiration for all I've experienced . . . this includes the wonderfully compassionate staff, and the hospital's cutting-edge scientific knowledge.
But to discover its recognition of the healing power of the natural world . . . that was something else.

How can I possibly anticipate radio-therapy with apprehension when I know that, each time I go, I'll be relaxing under a blue sky enhanced with spring blossom?

And, for those of you who are fortunate enough to have no hospital visits on your New Year agenda, but may well have other reasons to feel anxious or stressed, why not click here and absorb the therapeutic benefits of this video . . . enjoy!

A New Year gift

Would you like a New Year gift?      

I can think of nothing better to offer you than the heart-warming, short video I received at Christmas.
But, before sharing the link, let me explain why its message is so relevant at the present time . . . and why you should watch it.

Last November, an article entitled: 'Twenty-two animals that are in danger of disappearing forever' appeared in the 'Insider' magazine.   

Taking into account the vast number of species  that we've already lost, it made sobering reading.  In addition to providing details of the creatures on its list, the article offered convincing explanations as to why this calamity is predictable.

You won't be surprised to learn that we humans are largely to blame.  Conveniently forgetting the fact that we share ninety-nine per cent of our DNA with chimpanzees, we would appear to suffer from the delusion that we are infinitely more important than every other living species on the planet.

Over recent years, for reasons that include population explosion, climate change and sheer greed, we have invaded and destroyed countless previously untouched habitats.  In so doing, we have thoughtlessly laid waste to the homes and sustenance of the birds, mammals, fish, insects and plants that lived there.

Do you see this Malayan tiger cub?
Threatened by road development and logging operations, there are now less than three hundred of these superb creatures left in the world.
And, tell me, when did you last see a hedgehog . . . or hear a cuckoo?

What we under-estimate to our cost is not only the right to life of every species, but also the unique importance, beauty and intelligence of each of our fellow creatures . . . qualities that permeate the animal kingdom from the smallest fish to the largest mammal.

But could we be coming to our senses?
I'm delighted to say that there's some good news to start the New Year.

In 1972 the Arabian oryx was declared 'extinct in the wild'.  In 1982 a small herd was taken from a zoo and re-introduced into the Arabian desert where it has now established itself.  No longer officially 'extinct', the Arabian oryx was last year classified as 'vulnerable'.

In a similar instance, the efforts to reintroduce the Asian zebra, known as the kulan, to central Kazakhstan,  are proving equally successful.

And there's more good news . . . in a rather unlikely collaboration, nuns at a convent in Mexico are currently working on a joint conservation project with Chester Zoo.

Their mutual aim is to rescue the fabled axoloti, a Mexican salamander, from the polluted waters of the local lake and thereby save it from extinction.   Under the guidance of the zoo, the nuns have saved the remaining salamander and, as you can see in this photo, are now breeding them successfully in the convent.

Nor is that all . . .  there's good reason to celebrate in Madagascar.  The rarest bird in the world, once thought to be extinct, is a species of duck called the Madagascar pochard.

After being successfully reared at The Slimbridge Wetlands Centre in Gloucestershire, the last twenty-five of the species were taken to their home country in time for the New Year, and are now happily re-established on Lake Sofia.


All of which brings me to the New Year gift I promised you.

As I've told you before, my cat, Chloe, 'works' as a therapy cat for the Pets As Therapy charity.
Whilst visiting the nursing home, her capricious and exuberant nature is transformed.  On arrival she becomes compliant and caring . . . recognising and responding to the needs of each patient she visits.
Empathy, care, sensitivity, intuition . . .  characteristics that the animal kingdom possesses in abundance.

You'd like proof?  Then it's time to open your gift.

Click here . . . and may it be a happy, non-threatening New Year for all life on Earth.