Tag: Travel

Transport of Delight

Air Taxies are becoming a reality. It’s not Science Fiction anymore.

The history of the “hackney carriage” is along and illustrious one. They remain firmly attached to the road. They do move with the times. From horses to combustion engines to electrified cabs[1], I wonder if London back cabs will adopt Hydrogen fuel next?

Providing safe and reliable public transport for about 8-passengers, in reasonable comfort, with a limited amount of luggage, they are a vital part of the city landscape. Ferrying people from place to place and even going south of the river (a popular saying from the people who live north of the River Thames).

In New York, “Yellow schools of taxi fishes” in a song by Joni Mitchell. Schools or sholes of taxies swimming in a sea of traffic. Frantic and colourful as they are shown in a lot of 1970s movies. A chaotic scene where the protagonist runs out into the middle of dense, barely moving traffic.

What happens when these modern convinces take to the air? If they were still with us, I’m sure Flanders and Swann[2] would have written a song about this new marvel. The distain of London buses towards black cabs is there in the lyrics. So, as air taxies take-off, as it were, will the cab drivers of the city protest or join the ranks of new flyers?

Please don’t answer that question. I’ve in mind more serious issues. The whole history of aviation safety data analysis shows us an immutable fact. Take-offs and landings are riskier than flying in at altitude. It really matters not if flying horizontally or vertically.

How does this come to be? A simple answer would be to say that the results of aviation accidents eventually end-up on the ground. Gravity does its work. Put that aside for a moment. Take-offs are optional but landings are mandatory. That’s a traditional saying that amuses non-flyers but is all too real to pilots and alike.

The act of taking a flying machine from the freedom of movement in 4-dimensions to a preselected stationary point on the ground. Those policies and plans that are published refer to Vertiports being established much as Heliports have been in the past. Some may double up. The theory is good. A pre-defined clear space that can accommodate a typical eVTOL aircraft used as an Air Taxi, with all the necessary operational and safety provisions. Surrounding areas protected from the down wash of the Air Taxi. Care to remove any foreign objects from the vertiport surface. A mini terminal to add to the cityscape.

One of the biggest variables in this brave new world of public transport is as old as the hills. It’s the local weather. Dubai can roast an aircraft with clear skies and 50C while Aberdeen can soak them in rain and impenetrable mist. Dust and wind can blow through Marseilles while deep snow and ice covers Montreal. Whilst in Lahore the air itself can be hazardous.

Terrestrial vehicles do cope. Often this means that there are different rules and regulation that take account of the local conditions and priorities. The impatience that some advocates have for a rapidly formulated globally set of harmonised rules and regulations might be misplaced. In fact, it may even impede the introduction to service of Air Taxi services.

Since I’m discussing the urban environment, I can presume that any accidents and incidents will be the focus of a great deal of public attention. Ultimate safety is a nice aspiration, but then reality takes hold. There will be occurrences. When they happen, city councillors are going to have their say.

POST: The Air Taxi topic has become newsworthy this last week. US lawmakers push FAA certification reforms for eVTOLs:

https://aviationweek.com/aerospace/advanced-air-mobility/lawmakers-push-faa-certification-reforms-evtols

https://www.flyingmag.com/congress-faa-electric-air-taxi-certification/

Click to access Aviation-Innovation-and-Global-Competitiveness-Act-Final-Bill-Text.pdf

[1] https://www.levc.com/

[2] https://youtu.be/7yHrpPRYgYM

FLANDERS & SWANN – ‘A Transport of Delight’ – 1957.

Aviation Insights

One shilling and seven pence, that’s what a copy of Flight magazine cost in 1960. Today, roughly that’s equivalent to £6. Which is not so far off the weekly cost of a typical printed magazine taken off-the-shelf in a newsagent. Now, Flight is a digital subscription[1] at £22 a month. We consume our News in a different way, but the overall price is not so different.

Spending money in charity shops always contributes to some good cause or another. Certainly, our British High Streets in 2026 are markedly transformed from that of 66 years ago. Fine, if I get hung up on that elegant number. It’s not a bingo call. It’s the number of times I’ve circled the Sun. Circled, that is, while safely attached to this rocky planet.

The young woman behind the counter was chatting to what must have been a regular when she looked up. I pointed an unregarded dusty box on the floor in the corner of the shop. “How much to you want for that box of old aviation magazines”. She looked slightly fazed. Nobody had even thought about pricing them let alone selling them. They had probably been donated as someone emptied the attic of their grandparents. Probably on the verge of going to the recycling bin.

Eventually, we settled on a modest price. She looked me up and down. I’m sure she thought that I was completely mad. That said, charity shop workers, volunteers, must face that colourful situation more than a couple of times a week. Even a day.

What struck me was the first inside page. The weekly editorial could have been written yesterday. It’s titled “Facing it” and reads thus:

“More than one great newspaper has given warning that our nation is living beyond its means – that our export prospects are poor, and that we are taking a commercial thrashing”.

“Bleak prospects for a people who have never had it so good, and one that promotes us to consider how the aircraft industry is facing up to cold reality.”

It went on to highlight that there had been few new aircraft at the Farnborough airshow of that year. It was an October publication[2]. There was a lot of talk about industry and Government cooperation but that this was not delivering.

“And now that the industry is needed, as it has never been needed before, it will not be found unready or unwilling.”

But the lament was about the failings of the Government of the time, and there being no room for complacency. This was 4-years after the Suez Crisis.

Today, we have an increased security threat, much as arose in the Cold War days. Industry and Government cooperation needs to be a lot more than fervent aspirations. We seem to be in the same phase of formulating strategies rather than implementing actions.

Don’t let me paint a picture of gloom and doom. What this Flight magazine had is great stories of British technical innovation. Electronics and control systems were advancing rapidly. Automatic landing systems were being pioneered. Technology applied improved aircraft performance and aviation safety significantly. In fact, in numerous areas Britain was not only leading, but guiding the world.

[1] https://www.flightglobal.com/subscribe

[2] Flight Number 2691 Volume 78.

Should Parliament Relocate?

I wouldn’t for one moment propose that the palace of Westminster be demolished. It’s an iconic landmark. No, my point is that the building is entirely ill-suited to be a 21st century parliament building. What served well in the Victorian period now restraints and stultifies its occupants.

Across the great river Thames is another iconic building, London’s Country Hall. That’s no longer an important seat of local government. Throughout the country there are hundreds of former Town Halls, now put to other uses. Lots of listed buildings that are rightly preserved as part of our unique British heritage.

I’m reacting to the News story about the cost of repairs to the Houses of Parliament. Possibly six-decades of work at the cost of tens of billions of pounds. Parliamentarians, who may never see the work finished, will need to decide on different potential courses of action.

Let’s be clear. Six-decades ahead takes us to the year 2086. Those at school now will, they hope, be retired as the final lick of paint is applied. Not only that but who on earth can realistically predict the final cost to the taxpayer of such a never-ending project?

This brings home what real long-term planning is all about. Do we adopt a myopic vision based on sentimentality and stick with the existing palace of Westminster or take a different approach.

Buildings, their structure and form, do shape the way we behave. What would be the point of celebrated architecture if such was irrelevant to the human experience. This has been understood in both Germany and Australia.

British architect Norman Foster’s reconstruction of the Reichstag in Berlin[1], finished in 1999, transformed a 19th-century building into a modern, transparent seat of democracy.

The architecture of Parliament House[2] in Canberra is well worth a tour. To be able to walk over the hill, and on top of the building is a profound statement that suites Australians so well.

My view is that an ambitious nation would look at the next sixty years as an opportunity to forge an identity suited to the future not the past.

So, British Parliamentarians move out of Westminster and look for another solution.

The great River Thames is part of our national story in a way that other rivers are not. The River Severn may be longer, not by a lot, but it doesn’t have the navigation that made the Thames and the city of London so pivotal in our national story. What other locations on the River Thames would fit the bill? Likely more central but remaining well connected. My suggestion might shock some people and create an instant rejection.

Our national story is one of roads, rivers, canals and railways. Moving inland along the path of the River Thames, a fast efficient railway service leads to a large town, not yet a city. The ruins of Reading Abbey, founded by King Henry I in 1121 “for the salvation of my soul,” reminds me that a sense of continuity has its place. That’s apt. For the salvation of the souls of our elected representatives, why not choose Reading.

I’m not saying the famous Reading Gaol[3] could be repurposed. Anyway, it’s been sold. But there are numerous sites in that town where a new parliament building would shine a beacon of hope.

[1] https://www.fosterandpartners.com/projects/reichstag-new-german-parliament

[2] https://www.aph.gov.au/Visit_Parliament

[3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Ballad_of_Reading_Gaol

Generational Differences

I believe the Scottish word for it is – Dreich. With that spelling it almost sounds German. I’d pronounce it as dreek. What this means is the weather is dull, damp, gloomy, and miserable. Overcast, wintery, with intermittent drizzle and rain never seeming to give up. Couldn’t be a better word to describe it – Dreich.

That was yesterday. There’s a good chance that today will be the same. Not unusual for February. That said, the cumulative impact is that the ground water is rising and the rivers are topped right up to the brim. That rock hard, dusty, tinder dry summer of last year is as if it was a million years ago. What water shortage?

Outside the bird life is flourishing in these damp conditions. I saw a large white Egret was doing a morning stroll oblivious to the drizzle. Up top a tall dead tree a Cormorant was surveying its territory. Ducks are playfully buzzing around the river’s edge. The Canadian Geese are doing what they do every day. Foraging for anything of interest.

It does not good to complain about this uninspiring weather. Although it’s a cultural phenomenon, the weather is the biggest sources of small talk in this country. “You’re not made of sugar, get out there and do something”. I maybe miss remembering these parental words. It’s clear that mulling around indoors and constantly whining isn’t a good formula for mental health.

Add to the gloom and despondency the daily dose of British politics. So many of us had hoped that replacing one group of deafening incompetent politicians with a duller set would mean that stuff gets done. The boring, but necessary, tasks of governing would be accomplished without endless calamities. Faint hope.

For lunch, to escape the incessant rain, I sat down in a coffee shop. The place was busy. Everyone coming in to get out of the rain. Shaking off umbrellas and drying out raincoats. I had to look around to find a comfortable place to sit. Near the entrance. Next to me were an older couple and their granddaughter. It’s impossible not to earwig in such situations. We exchanged a couple of polite smiles.

Here I recount what fascinated me about the generational gap. The young girl didn’t put her mobile phone down once, in so far as I could see. It was clear from the conversation that she was not allowed to use her mobile at school. Phones were confiscated. If my observation indicates anything, it’s that banning phones just mean more mobile phone use when the opportunity presents itself.

Politics reared its head in their conversation. The granddaughter was monosyllabic about the subject. Maybe it was one she studies at school. She carried on scrolling. Unsolicited grandfatherly advice came across the table. To paraphrase – You should watch that man Jacob Rees-Mogg on GB News. He speaks very good English. He makes a lot of sense. The young girl carried on scrolling.

Oh brother! There’s a generational gap summary in a couple of rainy-day minutes.

I had one grandfather on my mum’s side. On my dad’s side my grandfather died relatively young. Both were West Country farmers. The grandfatherly advice I got was more to do with hard work. Not so much to do with politics. That is except for amusement about the hippies that turned up at the village of Pilton every year. That became the Glastonbury festival. Given that my grandfather had experience of the First World War, that must have been quite a contrast.

Mutuality in Aviation Safety

Back to the benefits of mutuality. That idea of working together for a common goal. It may seem bazar but instead I will start with the downsides of mutuality.

Parties who are in conflict often like to deny interdependency. It’s that instinctive feeling that we can go it alone. Highlighting that working with others turns out to be complicated, calculating and compromising. Surely much better to be that lone High Plains Drifter who lives day to day.

In the aircraft airworthiness discipline, I saw this happening during the lengthy process of the international harmonisation of technical requirements that took shape in the 1990s.

It’s not easy to say but a substantial number of aviation rules and regulations that are applied are written in blood. Ever since the first aircraft took to the skies there has been incidents and accidents. Each one presents an opportunity to gain experience. Tragic though they maybe, if there’s a positive outcome, it’s that measures are put in place to try to prevent similar occurrences happening again. This doesn’t aways work but it works often enough to make it the intelligent way forward. When that learning doesn’t take place, the result is condemnation and outcry[1].

So, imagine a situation where Party A has a rule that comes from a tragic aviation event and Party B does not have that rule, or see the need for that rule. Equally, where Party A is eliminating a rule that Party B views as a judicious measure for managing aviation safety risk.

Clearly, where safety is the goal, the harmonisation of technical requirements is not a trivial matter. Disagreements can put stress on relationship. It can from time-to-time cause people to walk off the playing field. To use an expression that became real at the 2025 Africa Cup of Nations football final. When the application of international rules doesn’t go the way people would like the results can be testing.

What I’m alluding to here is the early days of the technical harmonisation work that was done within what was then called the Joint Aviation Authorities (JAA) in Europe. And how that work interleaved with the work that was done to harmonise rules across the North Atlantic.

People did indeed walk off the playing field. One or two of them became ardent anti-Europeans. Maybe it was easier for younger technical staff to accommodate change. Nevertheless, each step that was taken to change or eliminate additional national technical requirements created tension. Maintaining sight of the greater goal of mutual benefit was demanding work. In fact, technical harmonisation is demanding work and always will be as such.

Across boundaries circumstances differ. My analogy is that of saying that it is no surprise that the Netherlands maybe concerned about bird strikes and overwater helicopter operations. At the same time Switzerland maybe more concerned about mountain waves and high-altitude helicopter operations. Each concern needs to be met. Priorities may vary.

Recent headlines saying: “Trump Says He Is ‘Decertifying’ Bombardier Aircraft In US[2]” has a sour ring about it. Political pressure should not be the driver of aviation safety technical rules. It’s perfectly reasonable for aviation entities to compete aggressively in the commercial world. It’s idiocy to compete on aviation safety grounds. This is not new learning. This has been the case for at least the last half a century.

POST: A view Gulfstream Confirms Delay over Canadian Type Certification of Business Jets | Aviation International News

[1] https://www.ntsb.gov/news/press-releases/Pages/NR20260127.aspx

[2] https://aviationweek.com/business-aviation/aircraft-propulsion/trump-says-he-decertifying-bombardier-aircraft-us

Gardens and a mighty river

Let’s mix three interests of mine. It’s Monty Don[1] I must thank for this one. He’s recently been seen in a series that tours the Rhine searching out gardens of interest. His travels along the mighty Rhine in Germany brough him to a couple of places that I’m familiar with even though he left out one or two that are dear to me.

The three interests are travel, politics and gardening. A TV presenters’ job is a nice one to have when it opens the world to others. Glimpses of fascinating places and gripping stories.

Often over a weekend, by car or train, I’d explore the Rhine River between Cologne and Koblenz. In Cologne the river valley is wide, spreading leisurely over kilometres. In Koblenz it’s narrow with step sides dotted with vines clinging onto the rocks. The river’s dramatic landscapes have an identity that’s special.

Shame that Monty Don didn’t stop in Cologne, but I can imagine that there was a lot to squeeze into the time they had allotted for filming. He did stop in Bonn and started to tell the story of the modern history of that region. Bonn being the capital city of former West Germany.

Rhöndorf, Konrad Adenauer’s house and garden sit in stunning scenery overlooking the river[2]. It’s a place to visit for those with an interest in modern history, political life and the relaxation of gardening. Monty Don took the time to stroll around and talk about the roses and the drama of the life of Germany’s first chancellor after the war.

Further down stream Cologne was bypassed for a stop at the former industrial heartland of steel and coal. My advice to Monty Don would have been don’t miss the Botanical garden in Cologne[3]. This is a lush green and open space in the city that I often walked and stopped for a coffee. It’s easy to get to by tram being right next to the Zoo in the North of the city.

In the early spring the camellias are stunning[4]. It’s such a great experience for lifting one’s spirits after a dull wet winter. Go to the Botanical garden are revel in the bright colours.

The gardens are a mix of French, Italian and English influences. A quick reminder of the ebbing and flowing of influences that have swept the Rhine lands over the centuries. Don’t miss it.

[1] https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m002px5m

[2] https://adenauerhaus.de/en/visit/rhoendorf

[3] https://www.cologne-tourism.com/arts-culture/sights/detail/flora-and-botanical-garden-cologne

[4] https://internationalcamellia.org/en-us/europe-gardens-of-excellence/flora-cologne-botanic-garden

North Atlantic Airspace and Trade

Back to Greenland. A cold, cold land of mountains, snow, and ice. Next door to Iceland. I agree, the naming of places doesn’t make a lot of sense. Perhaps Greenland should be Iceland. And Iceland should be Fireland. Just under the Earth’s crust molten rock sits. It waits for the opportunity to come to the surface.

Iceland is highly volcanic. A land that’s growing and ripping itself apart at the same time. It sits on the Mid Atlantic Ridge[1]. The North American and Eurasian plates are moving away along the line of the Mid Atlantic Ridge. This is global geography. Not economic or social geography but the physical stuff. Ironically, considering the News, the North American plate is moving westward, and the Eurasian plate is moving eastward. Don’t worry this movement is slow.

When flying it’s usually faster to travel East than it is to travel West. A fast-moving band of air known as the jet stream[2] whizzes across the Atlantic. It represents that boundary between the cold polar air and the warmer southern air. The airspace of the North Atlantic (NAT)[3], which links two great continents is busy. There are seven Oceanic Control Areas (OCAs). US, Canada, Norway, Greenland (Denmark), Iceland, Ireland, and The Azores (Portugal) all have a role to play.

Back in the mid-1990s, I worked on Reduced Vertical Separation Minimum (RVSM). Looking at aircraft altimetry to determine what accuracy requirements would permit a change in separation standards. These standards, and the manual that goes with them are the responsibility of the ICAO European and North Atlantic Office in Paris. Yes, that’s Paris, France.

Given the arguments put forward by US President Trump, and his supporters, it does seem surprising that only Greenland is of interest. In aviation what happens across the North Atlantic, all the way up to the North Pole, depends on seven sovereign countries working together.

I’d say if there’s reason to be suspicious or concerned about one of them in terms of their capability, security measures, or vulnerability, what about the rest?

Whether goods or travellers go by air or by sea, across the Northern Atlantic, the success of their journey depends on communication, collaboration, and cooperation between sovereign countries. Without conflict of a major kind, it would be difficult for one country to take over that space.

I also did work on guidance material for Polar Navigation[4]. In the polar region, magnetic heading is unreliable or useless for aircraft navigation. Thus, it’s important to have other suitable accurate sources of navigation to be able to plan a flight over the top of the Earth. Aircraft communication is an issue too.

Russian airspace may be closed but this does not stop airlines flying over the pole. Finnair goes to Japan over the North pole[5]. Meticulous planning is needed to make theses flights safe.

Anyway, my point is that much of the commotion over Greenland’s fate tends to ignore the complexities of international trade and travel. At all stages international standards, communication, collaboration, and cooperation are essential regardless of who you are.

[1] https://www.geolsoc.org.uk/Plate-Tectonics/Chap3-Plate-Margins/Divergent/Mid-Atlantic-Ridge.html

[2] https://weather.metoffice.gov.uk/learn-about/weather/types-of-weather/wind/what-is-the-jet-stream

[3] https://skybrary.aero/articles/north-atlantic-operations-airspace

[4] https://www.faa.gov/sites/faa.gov/files/2022-11/Polar_Route_Operations.pdf

[5] https://www.finnair.com/gb-en/bluewings/world-of-finnair/flying-over-the-north-pole–well-planned-is-half-done–2557656

Technology and Visual Perception

As the winter sun rose this morning, I focused my binoculars on a distant silhouette of a bird. We inherited these bird watching binoculars from my father-in-law. With a times 30 magnification this majestic black waterbird was easy to see.

A tall trunk of a dead tree rises above the riverbank. It’s a perch where the Cormorant[1] sits in the early morning sunshine. I’d guess it’s a regular post fishing ritual. We sometime see him or her perfectly balanced with their wings outstretched. Two Jackdaws were sitting below this larger bird. It was clear the Cormorant was none to happy to have their company.

In our kitchen, as the radio burbled away, what struck me was the importance of distant vison. Looking out to see what’s on the horizon. As the sun illuminated the treeline. Leafless trees outlined against a blue sky. I hasten to add that this clear morning is more the exception than the rule over the last couple of weeks.

Because the Cormorant is an excellent fisher this is a good sign for the health of the river. The River Lambourn is a chalk stream that passes west to east at the boundary of the field adjoining our house. Fortunately, the river is far enough away for winter flooding not to be a problem. We have the benefit of seeing Berkshire’s riverbank wildlife as it makes its way quite oblivious to us watching it.

What a contrast. My eyes are now focused on a computer screen that is no more than a couple of feet away from me. If I was using my mobile phone or tablet, I’d be even closer to an electronic screen. I can see a nice picture of a typical Cormorant on my screen. It’s informative but no substitute for the real thing. A real individual.

Let’s make an assertion. Since 2006, the ratio of a person’s time spent looking at a close by screen as opposed to a distant image has dramatically changed. I’ve used that datum as it’s a convenient one related to the abundant mobile phone of any make and kind. I wonder what this has done for our visual perception capabilities. Will there come a time when looking for objects at a distance is a less than familiar experience.

It’s fascinating to see that the Boy Scouts still have an aircraft recognition list. The expectation that a young person looks up and spots a distant silhouette in the sky and can recognise it. Takes me back to the simplest childhood game of all. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with A”. Looking heavenward at a fast-moving outline and shouting “Aircraft”.

Will these abilities diminish? Afterall it would be so much easier to let a phones’ camera and a suitable App do the work. Point and tap. Would that lead to people recognising more aircraft or birds or less? The jury is out on what our tech is doing to us. There are a lot of questions worth asking. Particularly when it comes to visual perception. Matching pictures and names are one thing. Looking at a distance in real-time and doing the same with confidence, that’s another.

[1] https://www.rspb.org.uk/birds-and-wildlife/cormorant

Age Restrictions

Inevitably whenever there’s a decision as to what is age-appropriate one’s own experience comes to the fore. The experiment that is going on in Australia is one to watch. That country has taken a step towards the regulation of social media that provides defined limits. From zero to age 16 there’s to be a ban, or a restriction as the more diplomatic commentators say. One discussion could be about the whole necessity, and possible effectiveness of a ban on social media and another about the age limit that has been set.

This is one of those debates where there are good cases to be made on both sides. I could start by citing examples of harm caused, in particular cases, of social media use by children. That would reinforce a compelling argument for restrictions by law.

Alternatively, looking at the subject in the round, I could wonder at the position of young people first encountering an avalanche of social media on the day of their 16th birthday. Or the creativeness of young people in finding ways to evade a punitive law.

For me, my 16th birthday was a day of great liberation. Growing up in the countryside has lots of advantages. The downside is the effort needed to get anywhere beyond walking distance. No buses. No trains. Just a pushbike. Miles of country lanes, green fields and distant villages.

No demanding, distracting all-encompassing digital paraphernalia. Maybe a radio, cassette recorder and a pile of vinyl records. For me a couple of beaten-up cars and motorcycles too. As per the famous four Yorkshiremen sketch: try telling that to the kids of today.

Yes, my 16th birthday was a day of great liberation. That because of the law. I wasn’t alone. It was there for every schoolboy who could afford one. Shiny in the showrooms. Names like: Fantic, Gilera, Garelli, Yamaha, Suzuki and Puch, were all on our list of wants.

In December 1971, the British Government create legislation that restricted 16-year-olds to 50cc mopeds (motorcycles with pedal assistance). This was a worthy effort to improve road safety and reduce the carnage of motorcycle accidents. What was unexpected was the frenzy of innovation that this well-meaning law triggered. Motorcycle manufacturers set to their drawing boards and radically transformed the moped. I do mean radically.

I came in at the end of this era. By early 1976 manufactures had squeezed every drop of performance that was possible out of a mere 50cc engine. Designs had gone from uncomfortable, sluggish commuter bikes that would feel embarrassed to own, to sporty fast racing machines that were extremely desirable.

Ah, the unintended consequences of worthy legislation. For me this was wonderful. It opened a whole new vista and introduced me to one or two roadside hedges. Waiting for me on my 16th birthday was one of the best. A Puch Grand Prix Special. In black and gold, this really was a fast and refined two-stroke machine. Even with cast alloy wheels and a front disk brake, which was whizzy for the time. Racing along the main A30 the bikes gearing was such that I went fastest downhill, while my mates Garelli overtook me going up the hills.

What can I say? When it comes to age-appropriate the results may not be what is intended.

Note: Reference: Funky Mopeds! The 1970s sports moped phenomenon. Richard Skelton. Veloce Publishing. ISBN 13 978-1-84584-078-5  www.veloce.co.uk

Arborist Adventures

Funny how we attribute a problem to a nation. I’m sure it’s not the fault of the Dutch. It’s more the fault of the Canadians. To be fair, it’s nature rather than anyone’s fault.

One of the enduring memories of my childhood is looking out of a bedroom window to see the most enormous line of tall Elm trees. Running east to west, these magnificent trees were a dominant feature of the skyline. Looking south, towards the wider Blackmore Vale, they created a screen of green in the summer. Tall stately trucks in the winter. Maybe the central ones measured four or five feet in diameter.

Today, the view, on a clear day, extends all the way across Dorset to Bulbarrow Hill. Close by, no tall trees to obscure the view. Far off, on the top of the hill the telecommunication masts tower above the trees. Across the valley there’s nothing but treetops to be seen but few if any Elms.

The fate of the Elm trees is a sad one. Dutch elm disease wiped them out. From the 1960s, more than 25 million trees died across the UK. Other species have taken the opportunity to occupy the spaces left by the Elms. However, hedgerows have been lost as framing practices have changed. Trees a plenty but not so many as past times.

This week is national tree week[1]. I didn’t even know that until a visit to the RHS[2] at Wisley. I’ve had an RHS membership for about three years. Any time I’m in the vicinity of Wisley, I make a visit. That’s not been so easy of recent. The monstrous road works, planting a motorway junction of vast proportions in the area has been awkward to navigate. Nature is trying to coexist with traffic, tarmac and concrete.

I learnt that there are a couple of thousand trees at Wisley. Lots of variety. Being RHS, a staff to maintain them in good condition. Experts with chainsaws and ropes to prune the dead limbs and make the most of any wood that comes their way. What I’m referring to is a highly entertaining lecture given by one of the young arborists who manages trees on their site.

There’s a lot more to managing trees than first meets the eye. Safety is one of the major considerations. Especially with an extensive garden that receives thousands of visitors. Rotten branches falling from great hight are not something to wish to encounter unexpectedly.

I get the distinct impression that, like a Cirque du Soleil show, arborists love nothing more than hanging upside down from flimsy looking branches. Constructing elaborate schemes of ropes to navigate the treetops. With pride, the lecturer had videos of scampering amongst the high tree limbs. Not a place I’d go. They’re a cross between tree hairdressers and surgeons. Rearranging, chopping, crafting, diagnosing and amputating at the same time. Not a job for a heavy-set person who has a phobia of hights.

The message here, for the week, is not to take the wonderful diversity of trees in the UK for granted. They do need nurturing and replacing. For the most part they do nothing but good.

[1] https://treecouncil.org.uk/seasonal-campaigns/national-tree-week/

[2] https://www.rhs.org.uk/