Des duffs up DEFRA

Hats off to Des Prior, who appears to be on the brink of forcing the British government to make a notable amendment to the 1981 Wildlife and Countryside Act by allowing the free trade of native species between the UK and Europe. It seems to be a classic – and rare – case of common sense winning out in the end, and just goes to illustrate the undoubted benefits of being subject to EU law. I tire of little Englanders wittering on about Europe taking away our rights and taking our hard-earned cash. Our membership of the EU has seen the wholly sensible and far more practical elements of European law and policy-making only adding to the life we lead in the UK. Every week we cover stories in Cage & Aviary Birds where EU grants and conservation laws far exceed any benefits for the common man than derive from our own avaricious and self-serving government. For example, only this week a new 120-seater restaurant has opened at the Hawk Conservancy in Hampshire, courtesy (but not exclusively) of an EU donation.

Reacquainted with Cumbria

I've got to say, having written the story in this week's magazine about the proposed reintroduction of the white-tailed eagle to Cumbria, I'm pretty keen to renew my acquaintance with that part of the world. The photographs that we looked through were absolutely stunning and the further north you appear to go, the greater the feeling of wilderness. Unfortunately, I have a longstanding problem with this part of the world. Being brought up on Merseyside, the folk who live around the Mersey regularly trek north to the Lake District to sample the beautiful greenery, and my family was no exception.

However, every single memory – and I mean every one – that I have, from my numerous visits, is of being cold and wet. Whether it was hiking, casual walking, school trips, or just moseying around one of the villages or towns in the area, I was always damp and cold. Not only that, when you're a kid, the journey seemed to take ages. I have one particular memory of travelling up to the Lake District in the back of an old Saab. I don't know whether you remember the model, but the rear two seats were facing backwards, out the back of the rear window. I felt sick all the way, chucked once and was relieved to arrive on the shores of Windermere to put up our tent, yes you guessed it – in the rain. I vividly remember squelching out of the tent in the morning feeling decidedly grumpy about what was supposed to be a holiday.

In effect, my time in the Lake District scarred me for life. All talk of the beauty of the place has since been lost on me, as I've subsequently lived my life pining for the Mediterranean or anywhere that is sunny, warm and dry. But looking at photos of the Solway has made me think again. Maybe I should revisit Cumbria, to see if I can finally see the charm of the area. On the other hand, given this last month's weather, nah!

Hasta la vista, companeros....xn

Hasta la vista, amigos…

Agu dulce – sweet water

As a cyclist, I've got to say I'm pretty much down with drought conditions. Lack of precipitation rocks my world. So the last month has been a drag to say the least. Not only have my bike hubs been terrorised by scummy water flying up from the roads, I seem to have spent every day in a partial fug of dampness. Add in a few typhoon strength winds and I'm starting to lose my patience. There's only so many times I want to plough my way through horizontal rain as I cycle a lonely path round the outer ring of Regent's Park.

But what do I matter? Our water resources in many parts of the country are depleted to say the least. We've been printing disaster warnings by the RSPB for months as our rivers start to resemble muddy dirt tracks rather than focal points for nature. So any rain is good rain, right? Undoubtedly the UK needs to reassess its approach to its water supply, as the times they are a changing. With less rain and more people consuming water than ever before, we need to take a series look at water provision for the next 50 years.

The history boy

A lot of people have no interest in history, never read it, never want to read it and often tell tales of being psychologically scarred by chronically tedious history teachers who blotted out all hope of a happy life with a double period of dusty facts. Others, like myself, love it. I had a great history teacher who brought the Romans to life and made me feel that the history of mankind was a journey upon which I should embark as soon as I possibly could.

Several decades down the line from Wirral Grammar School for Boys, my thirst for the history of our sorry species is unabated and so it's with great zest that I'm currently writing a feature for the magazine on that wonderful 19th century British illustrator and poet Edward Lear. And here's the nub of this blog. In this week's mag you will see a small news item – which we in the trade call a nib – on page 4, telling how a copy of John Gould's The Birds of Europe, containing illustrations by Edward Lear, has just sold for £50,000 in New York. It's a simple tale about how wonderful bird illustrations are still loved and cherished more than 180 years later.