Tag Archives: climate change

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“For those in peril on the sea …”

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Storm coming in tonight. A taste of what we’re told we’ll see a lot more of.

Standing on the gnarled Cornish coast, looking out at rocks that have been eroded by storms for centuries beyond centuries, is so humbling. The drama is everywhere. Not parading itself, but just there – evidence of the power of nature and its consequences.

Now it seems that nature’s power is growing, or channelling in new ways, with the consequences becoming more widespread. It is bigger than us, and it’s changing its patterns. The knowledge is unnerving. Bad enough on land. How must it feel to be at sea? These words keep coming to mind “… for those in peril on the sea …”

Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bid’st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
O hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea.

The hymn was written by William Whiting (1825 -1878). It’s said that he’d experienced danger at sea first hand, so when a boy at the college in Winchester where he was master, grew anxious about crossing the ocean, Whiting wrote what would later become this hymn to help calm the boy – a prayer for him to hold on to.

I can’t imagine that Whiting had any idea how apt his words would sound two decades into this millennium.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

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It’s been warm in the Scottish Highlands

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Another short postcard written at the end of a day that’s changed itself from warm and beaming, to wet.

In the morning we woke up to sunshine and wind. Clouds raced above fields of sheep, the sun was bright on the grass, and the dark chop of the Beauly Firth just visible in the distance. It was beautiful, but weirdly warm for October. I wondered whether it was normal to see rose buds still clinging to cottage walls in the middle of autumn so far north.

Tonight though is a different story. We are still in Scotland but further south, and the rain has arrived with amber warnings attached. I don’t think tomorrow will be an easy day for sheep or roses up here.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

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Autumn – flaming leaves and the cries of geese

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I took this photograph with the sound of thunder rumbling over my shoulder, and bonfire smoke whisping through the trees in the distance. Minutes later the rain came, and has now drifted on.

It is this changeable time of year – October, when the trees in the last of their leaves, are so vivid, and the skies filled with the sounds of restless birds.

I think everything must be a little confused this year for it is still warm, far warmer than usual. I can’t remember when we last reached October in our t-shirts without the heating on, and no need of it. I do realise that just saying that marks us out as pathetic, for in the UK there are those who don’t turn their heating on all year. Some for financial reasons. Some to support Ukraine. Some to save the planet. I’ll let you know how far we get.

Meanwhile, autumn parades in front of us. It is beautiful – like a vanishing gift we can’t hold on to. And it happens at a time of each tree’s choosing. When the branches decide they are ready they begin to change out of their greens, until suddenly, there the whole stands, free to view, flourishing its colour as we hurry beneath, braced for the grey of winter.

It’s best to look up.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023