Sights, sounds and scents of nature

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The sweet smell of falling rain.

The sweet smell of falling rain.

MARCEL Proust, 19th/20th century French novelist, astutely wrote in his book, ‘In Search of Lost Time’, “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new lands but seeing with new eyes.”

A staggering 54 per cent of our world’s population lives in urban areas, a figure which is expected to reach 60 per cent by 2050. The United Kingdom’s urban population was 90 per cent in 2010, to reach 92 per cent by 2030. In the same period Malaysia’s urban population is expected to rise from 72 to 82 per cent. In Sarawak and Sabah, the number of dwellers in urban areas in 2010 amounted to 54 per cent of each state’s total population.

The changing demographic picture of our 21st century world is obvious. With increased urban living and new technologies, a greater number of people spend more time indoors than outside.

It is only later in life that one can reflect on the halcyon days of one’s childhood. I was fortunate to be born in a remote area of South West England when it took over 12 hours to reach London by steam train. Today the train journey is only four hours shorter, for such is the rugged terrain through which the railway pioneers of the mid-19th century literally blasted their way.

Childhood memories

I experienced an idyllic childhood with loving and caring parents. My sister and I, at weekends and school holidays, would roam and explore the countryside for kilometres without fear of molestation apart from the odd cut on a barbed wire fence. It was on those ‘voyages of discovery’ that we learned to recognise the sights, sounds and scents of true nature.

We would stop on our walks to breathe in the fresh air. In winter, the musty smell of the wet granitic moorlands and in summer the smell of the yellow gorse bushes still linger in my nostrils now some 60 years later. Our parents taught us how to recognise the dreaded European viper or common adder curled up on the heated granite boulders in summer.

We would beach comb the sandy and pebbly beaches of the vast coastline of West Cornwall whatever the weather. In summertime the seaweed ‘bloomed,’ in the warm waters, with a distinctive aroma and, in late autumn, the smell of dry seaweed at the high tide mark was quite different. To see and hear the storm waves pounding against the beaches in an Atlantic storm and to smell and taste the sea salt from the breakers’ spray on my lips, holds dear memories for me.

The taste of salt and the roar of a wave.

The taste of salt and the roar of a wave.

Tracking smells and recognising sounds

My nose-sensitive Hungarian pointer dog will stop on a walk to identify a marsh orchid because of its distinctive smell. She will follow the scent of pheasants and foxes into hedges and is most proficient in locating the air scents of wild deer. I, too, have learned to recognise deer-scents. Most humans have lost this instinct but in interior Borneo and Papua New Guinea, the indigenous people have retained this innate ability to track their prey.

Whilst wandering through the countryside, I frequently ask myself how many bird species and their sounds could any of my seven grandchildren identify.  Would they be able to recognise a wild orchid or recognise the distinctive paw marks of wild animals in the river’s mud beaches? Clearly a generation gap is growing as is, indeed, an urban-rural gap in countryside and wildscape knowledge.

My grandchildren have all been reared in urban environments but when staying with me I try to get the best out of them, on a countryside walk, by stopping, listening to sounds, observing and smelling.

Recreational opportunities

Many urban European families take their summer holidays in beach resorts usually located in urban areas as a package deal. Few can afford the extra travelling costs for a family holiday to remoter wilderness areas. How many urban dwellers take their children for a short walk at weekends to a local park and get their children to recognise local plants, birds, animals and insects?

These green spaces are the city dwellers’ urban lungs where wildlife abounds. Equally, country scents, sounds and sights can be observed through the year even in the smallest of gardens. All parents should encourage their children to observe and embrace the ecological opportunities on their very doorsteps in order to connect children with nature.

What sights, sounds and smells does this scene conjure up for you?

What sights, sounds and smells does this scene conjure up for you?

Ecological education

Worldwide, every primary and secondary school should develop a system or programme whereby outdoor learning takes place at selected times in a child’s education. To see primary school children on a nature ramble exploring the hedgerows and river near my house fills me with glee and their imaginative follow-up classroom work to their investigations is a joy to behold.

Recently I attended a day’s field trip for a group of 10- and 11-year-olds from a school in Kuching. That visit to a kampung, on the edge of the rainforest, allowed these students to enjoy nature. Listen to that sound; what is the name of that bird? What type of rock is this? What is this insect? Why are the trees so tall? Why does the farmer keep chicken? … all such questions revealed their inquiring minds and the stimulation gained from the experience.

Kuching, as a city, is a green environment thanks to the wisdom of the urban planners, for there is what they would describe as ‘rus in urbe’. Wildlife abounds in the trees and shrubs for children to see, hear and smell. This is a far cry from the reply of a child in an inner London primary school who, when asked the question, “From where do we get milk?”, replied “A cardboard carton, Miss!”

The wildscape experience

All over the world national parks offer wilderness experiences for children and many national parks are relatively near to urban areas. This is true in the UK and also in Sarawak and Sabah. Kota Kinabalu, Kuching and Miri all have such nearby spaces for recreation. Plenty of joggers may be seen pounding the footpaths at Samajaya Nature Reserve in Kuching but, alas, they never stop to smell the scents, look at the wild birds and listen to their calls.

Most urban children can recognise exotic animals such as polar bears, pandas, lions and cheetahs gleaned from superb wildlife TV coverage but sadly know very little about the indigenous plants, animals, birds and fish in their urban neighbourhood, let alone in the rainforests.

That said, technology suggests that we will soon have desert, savannah grassland, polar, and rainforest smells accompanying our TV viewing. However, virtual reality cannot compensate for actuality. Moorland, countryside, and seaside fragrances are already marketed in bottle form.

Unpleasant and pleasant aromas

In urban environments, as we scurry to work, our nostrils recognise vehicle fumes, haze, smoke, putrefying garbage, the whiff of the passing garbage collector’s lorry and smelly open drains with their outbursts of methane gas. The countryside aromas are so different.

On a recent morning walk in the fields, after a relatively long spell of dry weather, it rained and the refreshing countryside scents filled the air. These were the smells of rain falling on dry soils. In dry spells, oils are exuded from plants and are absorbed in the dry clay-rich soil. These oils are released into the air by the splash of each raindrop together with a substance known as geosmin (a Greek word meaning earth smell), which is derived from bacteria immediately growing in the damp soil. These harmless bacterial spores saturate the atmosphere in aerosol-like sprays. Hence the sweet smell of falling rain!

Wherever we live on the globe we should inculcate a sense of inquiry into our children to recognise the wonders of our natural world by stopping, seeing, listening and smelling what surrounds us, particularly on our own door steps. We are clearly a part of our local and global ecosystems.

Inquiring minds at work in a shallow river.

Inquiring minds at work in a shallow river.