Nature's Growl

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The blaze of green which has appeared on Wales’ trees is at least as stunning as the turning on of any Christmas lights.

Springtime is a glorious shock, when nature makes a Rocky-style comeback after the pummelling cold of winter.

In the temperate British Isles, when we think of natural phenomena we picture snowdrops breaking through the ground and flutter-pasts by Red Admirals.

We are not familiar with the sound of a rattlesnake on our porch, the curve of a Great White shark’s fin or the spiralling terror of a tornado as it licks calamity across a landscape.

But the emergence of so-called swine flu has reminded us that nature is not a kindly nanny who reappears each spring with a cheerful bouquet but an unpredictable force which can bring destruction as easily as beauty.

While we look at the workings of cells with wonder, we recoil in horror at the nefarious ingenuity of a mutating killer virus. This fusion of genius and malevolence is disorientating and troubling.

We struggle to understand the ideologies of suicide bombers, but the sheer violence of killer diseases is so arbitrary, relentless and starched of mercy.

Communities in western Europe have lived for several generations largely untouched by the ravages of nature. We have been preoccupied with the baffling phenomenon of evil with engineered the Holocaust and the crimes of the Balkans.

The idea that something could come out of the natural world to threaten our existence has not been at the forefront of our minds, in contrast with the experiences of most peoples throughout history.

Sure, we have discussed the possibility of pandemics, calculated the likelihood of an asteroid strike and set targets to slow climate change, but we have not recognised the utter fragility of our species.

Our American cousins are familiar with the destructive effects of hurricanes striking their coast, and Californians live in anticipation of an earthquake of atomic proportions. Millionaires are used to worrying about raging wildfires around Malibu and campers know not to cuddle grizzly bears.

In contrast, a British man who has tamed the great outdoors will know how to identify 30 different newts and have a salvo of tips for avoiding mildew.

In movies such as Independence Day and Armageddon, the threat of global annihilation compels people from different nations to collaborate on a shared mission of survival.

It is probably too much to hope that a less romantic but more respectful regard for nature will encourage us to prize human life as a remarkable one-off gift with a new awe and to cherish our most vulnerable citizens.

But the new vague worry which has swirled into our society should give us an inkling of an appreciation of the true fear which millions experience every time they see a mosquito, drink water or pray for rain.