Amazingness

Village Way, London, SE21

Glowing copper in the late afternoon sunlight, the crown of this enormous, beautiful, leafless tree makes me want to stand on my head, and imagine it as a clump of earthy roots just pulled from the ground.

Camberwell Road, London, SE5

What is it that this inviting mound of soft, fresh moss could possibly have in common with a bulgy-eyed, bouncing frog?

Well, most importantly, both mosses and frogs are dependent on an external water supply for that elemental necessity: reproduction. Frogs need shallow water in which to lay their frogspawn, so the emerging tadpoles can happily swim about, and mosses need splashing raindrops to transport their sperm from a male plant to a nearby female one.

Another thing is that mosses breathe through the surface of their leaves – i.e. their ‘skin’ – and so do frogs!…although frogs additionally have lungs, which mosses do not.

Now for a couple of things in which mosses and frogs are not so alike:

Mosses don’t need to eat anything. Like nearly all other green plants, they make their own food from carbon dioxide that they find in the air, water, and sunlight. Incredible! Frogs, on the other hand, have to have proper meals, where they eat actual food, just like we do.

Mosses can’t jump.

…and, just to be confusing, there exists something called a Vietnamese Moss Frog (click on the first photo you see when you open the link). Is is a moss or it is a frog?

Champion Hill Estate, London, SE5

On my way to the supermarket this did not exist. To be precise, the paving stone did exist, but it had no such beautiful pattern on it. But darkness arrived on my way home, and I was able to experience the happy result of a street light being placed right next to a relatively short tree.

Unlike shadows produced by sunshine during the day, this will not move from west to east. It will remain exactly where it is until morning, save for a bit of a flutter in the wind or a brief engulfment by the shadow of a passing body.

Some other things that only come out at night:
Most Owls
Stars
Vampires
Hedgehogs
Father Christmas
Bats
Badgers

Champion Hill, London, SE5

The first thing I noticed about this wall was the clump of fresh green moss bulging out from one of the cracks. It was only on closer inspection that I gradually became aware of the gorgeous and subtle spectrum of colours that reside here, both growing, and being grown upon.

Consequently, I have been giving various pieces of wall and fencing more than a passing glance today. It turns out that there are a lot of them out there that could really benefit from a long and lingering gaze.

Peckham Rye Common, London, SE15

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to actually be inside a cloud?

Admittedly I chose a very low flying, non-stormy specimen to experiment with, but yesterday I did find out.

Cycling past Peckham Rye common, a big mist was settling down. Enchanted by the dissolving trees, I couldn’t help but detour into its very depths.

I came to a space where all that was visible was more mist. No trees, no car lights. Just murky nothingness: fresh, cold and very peaceful.

I had the sensation that I’d stepped through a time/space portal from the familiar to the absolutely new. My landscape no longer had any reference points. I imagined it was a similar sensation to entering Narnia through the wardrobe.

It was so extremely exciting! My mind felt totally free from all known things. I was in a new land about to embark on an amazing adventure.

But of course I couldn’t stay there forever. Nor could I embark on any big adventures, as there was only a small area in which all I could see was fog, before another tree loomed up in front of me, and car lights glinted faintly in the distance.

But as brief as the experience was, it was worth every second, and the exhilaration remained.

Flodden Road, London, SE5

I’ve been enjoying London Plane trees today.

Earlier, on the South Bank, I was kicking about some enormous Plane leaves. They were bigger than the size of my head! And then, later on, I discovered this lovely specimen, standing taller than a three-story house.

I particularly love how nearly all of the leaves have fallen off this tree, except for the ones clinging on to the very edges.

It gives the impression that the gorgeous, shapely, dark, criss-crossing of the tree skeleton is sporting a rather sensible haircut, albeit one with an intriguing colour distribution…all browns and yellows on top, but with a big green patch down the side.

Today’s blog post is a little bit different.

On Saturday afternoon, myself and my friend Cass made a little documentary about Amazingness.

We filmed it for ‘Britain in a Day‘, which is a BBC2 initiative to create an archive of one day in the life of Britain. On Saturday – 12th November 2011 – anyone in the UK who picked up a video camera and recorded their day, could submit their film to the archive.

Our Amazingness film follows me on an Amazingness exploration in Peckham, London. However, the film isn’t about me. Nor is it about taking beautiful photographs.

It is about the essence of Amazingness: connecting with the very commonplace, yet thoroughly delightful, natural wonders of an urban concrete jungle.

I really hope you enjoy it.

Glenwood, Ravenglass, Cumbria, CA18

Spider silk – whether in the form of a perfect spiral web covered in dewdrops glinting in the sunshine, scrunched up in dirty blobs stuck to your jumper after an accidental collision, or, like here, built up in layers over the unused window of a deserted shed – is a truly amazing material. It’s stronger by weight than steel, it’s tough and elastic, and is spun by spiders.

There are seven kinds of spider silk, manufactured in seven different silk-producing glands, which can be combined together to form silk with the specific properties required for one of a number of particular functions.

What spiders use silk for:

Webs: for catching prey, using sticky, elastic silk.

Draglines: for connecting the spider to the web, for the non-sticky spokes of the web, and as a safety line for accidentally falling spiders. The strongest type of silk.

Shelters: for burrows or nests.

Egg-sacs: for keeping baby spiders safe.

Swathing: for the wrapping and immobilisation of prey.

Mating: for weaving a sperm web on which to deposit sperm, to transfer it to a female.

Alarm lines: for alerting non-web building spiders, when ants trip over the line.

Parachuting and Ballooning: for aiding the dispersal of young. Silk is released and caught by the wind, resulting in flying spiders.

Pheromonal trails: a trail of silk impregnated with pheromones, for attracting a mate.

Guide lines: for wandering spiders to find their way home again.

And now, click here for some extra wow!

Ruskin Park, Denmark Hill, London, SE5

Sitting on a small lump of trunk, under the outspread bare branches of a great big Horse Chestnut tree, I contemplate my surroundings.

A circular carpet of fallen leaves lies beneath the tree. Now that the leaves still attached are few and far between, the branches above me only semi-obscure the clouds beyond – bright white, pale grey, and dark grey, masking some but not all of the pale blue sky.

There is a gentle breeze on my face. The air smells fresh with the flavour of damp earth and leaves. Taking deep breaths into my lungs, relaxing, I listen to the birds chirping in the branches, and the gentle rustling of leaves swaying in the wind, amidst the distant sounds of aeroplanes, ambulances and industrial machinery.

Occasionally the clouds drift apart, and bright sunshine breaks through. Golden yellow, brown, red, purple and orange autumn leaves sparkle, the green grass shines, and I bask in the sun’s warmth.

I had been feeling stressed and frustrated, prior to my encounter with this tree. I had entered the park and been drawn inexplicably towards it. This big, solid, calm, and very grounded tree, deeply rooted there, in the middle of the damp grass, had exerted an almost immediate, soothing influence on me.

How is it possible, I thought, that a tree and a bit of open grassy space can be so relaxing, and so totally exhilarating?

I recommend this to anyone and everyone: find a big tree, and experience it.

Deacon Way, Heygate Estate, London, SE17

I love these times: after a deluge of rain, the clouds form a little gap for the sun to shine through, and the whole world glows and glistens in response. 

Plus, there are always plenty of puddles lying around; gateways to a parallel universe. The trick is to not step in any by accident, but to find the position which allows for the best viewing of their internal depths. 

Then it is time to jump in. Mentally, emotionally, metaphorically, imaginatively or physically, it’s up to you.