I took the environmentally friendly train to Aberdeen today and then another one to Stonehaven, where my friends Selina and Ian live. I was staying in their cottage tonight, which is situated next to a farm and which was going to make a nice change from being in a hotel. Plus I was going to be in the calming, beautiful Scotch countryside. And as I arrived at lunchtime I had the whole afternoon to drink it in. What a treat!
Aberdeenshire was coated in thick mist when I got here, which made it seem more romantic and mysterious and after some homemade soup Selina and me headed out for a walk. On the way we said hello to the shed of cows that are just a few footsteps from the front door. They are gorgeous, if slightly wild-eyed and frightening creatures close up and I was near enough to see the moisture of their noses and almost feel their warm breath. Selina told me that a few of the cows would soon be heading off for slaughter, which made me a little bit sad, though not as much as it would have done ten years ago when I was in the middle of my decade of vegetarianism. I have recently had a realisation that weirdly never crossed my mind back then, that of course if we all stopped eating meat and drinking milk, it wouldnÂ’t mean that these cows would live into happy old age, it would mean that they were never born in the first place. I think I had a vaguely romantic notion back then that for every hundred steaks I didnÂ’t eat, a cow would be saved. But in reality farmers would not turn over their fields to let these crazy mammals live out peaceful lives, they would put something else in their instead. Is it better to experience the precious gift of life, even if it will mean that you will be killed and eaten at some point, or is it better to never have existed at all? I am not sure of the answer, but I think that as long as animals are treated well and not exposed to cruelty (before the final cruelty of their murder) then it is better that they got to live and breath hot air and splash their cow snot on to the ground. Much as that would anger the younger me and doubtless several of you. DonÂ’t bother emailing me about it though.
We headed down to the misty coast where we went for a walk along precarious cliff tops, which aggravated my fear of heights, or more accurately my fear of falling headlong to the rocky ground beneath. Then we walked down a steep path to the very rocks that I feared and they didnÂ’t seem so perilous once you were close to them. The grey North Sea crashed on to them and huge columns and islands of rock stood close to the shore, one of them had a courseway right through its centre, where years of battering had created a fissure from one side to the other.
We headed further up the beach and settled on some rocks close to the shoreline and watched the waves smashing towards us. It is a rare pleasure to stop and watch nature at work and oneÂ’s child-like wonder at the diversity of the natural world always returns. It also throws up fractured memories of various childhood seaside trips, where rock-pools and shells and fossils would fascinate me.
The damp stones we sat on were teeming with tiny green shells, like a thousand unripe blackcurrants, every where you looked. Each was home to some miniscule little creature, (what do you call them? Sea Snails?) sucking on to its precarious perch. I picked on off to look at it and it was only a black dot. What kind of life is that? I thought of
the crabs I had seen in Tobago and their perilous lives, but there dabs of mucus were fascinating in a different way. Their shells were so much more intricate and sophisticated than the thing that they were there to protect. How strange that nature had put so much effort into the home and so little thought into the occupant. I wondered if the individual that I had plucked from the stone was able to feel annoyance or fear or confusion at my actions. I suppose it couldn’t feel anything at all, but even so I tried to put him back roughly where I had found him, hoping I hadn’t disrupted things too much – pointlessly caring for the life of this creature, when I had undoubtedly trodden on and killed a few of his mates as I clambered over the beach.
It was very relaxing to have a chance to observe this different world and the more you looked the more you saw. I had assumed the little blighters pretty much stayed where they were, but then I spotted a couple of them on the move, a painfully slow process to find what? A better bit of rock to suck on, some water, a friend to pass the time with. There were certainly a couple of the sea-snails who had found each other as they were going at it, quite slowly, trying to make more little unripe blackcurrant shells to keep their species going (but why bother? They are rubbish). It must be such a laborious process, inching your way over to one of your compatriots, that my guess is you canÂ’t be too fussy about who you screw. But it was the kind of wonderful, involved and elaborate microcosm that made me sure that there couldnÂ’t be a God. Who would bother to think up such a creature? Who would want to place a living being, however unsentient in such an awful environment? Surely not the kind of God who allows little children to go missing and then doesnÂ’t reveal where the child is, but waits to see how many people will pray to Him to deliver her safely. And then still doesnÂ’t do anything about it, perhaps because he feels not enough people did the praying, so the child will not be saved. What kind of arrogant, self-obsessed God would require that kind of attention to Himself and wouldnÂ’t even feel the slightest compunction to solve the mystery (or prevent the thing happening in the first place)? Not the kind of God who would bother to go into such exquisite detail in creating some pointless, but still wonderful mollusc.
Is it better to have had the experience of life, even if you are one of these tiny shelled creatures or would never existing have been preferable? ItÂ’s a close call. It essentially makes no difference. But whilst I wouldnÂ’t mind being a cow, I think IÂ’d probably give it a miss clamping myself on to a rock near Aberdeen and living for maybe three days.
We spotted a lone seal, bobbing around in the waves. That would probably be the best animal to be from the choice of today. It must be a bit weird and cold to live in the sea, but youÂ’re free and not too many people are trying to kill you and as long as you can keep away from sharks I reckon you could have quite a good time. Though he was as lonely as a limpet and I hoped he found someone to play with.
So having considered some confused moral issues about the animal kingdom and God and showing that I am not able to resist anthropomorphising dumb creatures we headed back up the path. It had been a most enjoyable afternoon, though it tired me out a bit and I didnÂ’t really have time for a nap.
The gig went OK, though it was probably the worst performance of the material I have done all tour. I felt tired and a bit ill and it was tough to get the crowd on side and I made some uncharacteristic mistakes. It still wasnÂ’t a bad show and by the second half I had managed to summon up some energy and everyone was much more on side. But touring has taken its toll for sure and I am looking forward to the end (though I suddenly realised how few gigs I had left to do)
There are still some tickets left for both shows of the DVD record in Cardiff on Saturday. Please come along if you can. Call 029 2030 4400 or visit
The Chapter Arts website. The fuller it is the better the DVD will be.
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