Climate change and noise pollution.

Anywhere else in the world and the weather in the UK (South zone) the past couple of weeks would be called the monsoon. But, because we are a developed country with an internet speed of 20mbps  and only 5500 ppl per branch of Starbucks, the weather is described as unsettled as a monsoon is third world weather. Climate change is bringing us in line with the rest of the world and not just with the weather. We have had mosquitoes for years but call them midges instead, again, because mosquitoes are a third world insect. I had the fortune once to spend several days in a jungle/rainforest combo - and no, I had not been in an airplane crash over the Amazon. It was a wondrous experience of colour, aroma, awe and peace. That was during the day. At night, the jungle went crazy. The racket was worse than living under Gatwick’s flight path. All manner of cackling, croaking, caterwauling, shrieking and squawking filled the night and that was just from the bush outside my tent.

In central London, an area protected from every kind of human attack possible, there is, nowadays, in the dead of night, in between the sirens, helicopters and primal love screams, the very occasional sinister sound. Not your cooing doves or laughing crows but other sounds, sounds not of these parts, sounds that send chills up the hairs on your arms: an almighty screech followed by a panicked rustling or a strange whooping and then a fluttering and flapping of what can only be very big wings.

Once you have got through the torrid night you might fancy a stroll in a nearby park. Find yourself in Kensington Gardens and, walking along particular avenue, North to South, towards the Albert Memorial, you will see the real results of climate change. You can hear them before you can see them, squawking and fluttering. Look up into the trees and they are there: wild green parrots – proper parrots straight out of a glossy wildlife book. But they are actually called parakeets as parrots are a third world bird.