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Per Svensson: in the Face of the climate threat, we are the surfer the second before the wave wins

Blomsterkungen Carl von Linné, was not always a cosy Mandelmann. He enjoyed to see their surroundings affected by the divine vengeance, nemesis divina. He cou

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Per Svensson: in the Face of the climate threat, we are the surfer the second before the wave wins

Blomsterkungen Carl von Linné, was not always a cosy Mandelmann.

He enjoyed to see their surroundings affected by the divine vengeance, nemesis divina. He could pack the misantropi and kvinnoförakt in the scholars latin, and conclude that the people are lovely animals hitkomna by a foaming lidelses drop in an obnoxious location (guttula spumantis libidines in loco obscoentissimo). He was often mjältsjuk (or depressed, as we say today).

the month of may, the time when it is impossible to pull away in grämelsens caves. ”Flora will go with his entire army, and I have to sign her”, he cried. And who doesn't want to do the same? It is now spring and the goddess perform their miracles, transforms the chestnuts to the sound of crackling fireworks and syrenbuskarna to the psychedelic doftmoln.

May is the wonderful the second time, a confirmation of the promise, which permeates many religions. The death need not have the last word. It need not always be november. A new life begins in the frozen mud.

John Keats is currently perhaps best known for Ben Whishaw played him in ”Bright star”, a romance film directed by Jane Campion. But he also wrote poems that have become classics, startling many of them dated in may 1819. Perhaps the most famous of them is ”Ode to a nightingale”, Ode to a nightingale, with the line: ”Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird”. It was a correct assertion. The song of the nightingale was not born to die. It is alive and still singing in the poem. Keats himself, however, died a consumptive in a probably cold at night Rome in the winter of 1821, only 25 years old.

Culture beat nature, would the conclusion be, but in fact, it is difficult to say what is what. There is so much culture in nature and so a lot of nature in the culture. In a certain sense, is also the nature of man's creation, not just through that in so long a time lived in it, influenced and changed it, but because we are always experiencing it filtered through the myths, memories, name, and sorting systems. It is no coincidence that Linnaeus, klassifikationernas emperor, would ”sign” the display of flowers in may, as a general pattern of their regiments, companies and platoons.

It is as if we all lived in the childhood Skabaraland.

we people are the joint authors. The realization that we are now the river out, and burn more pages than we write is deeply depressing, especially as the undergångskänsla this insight, the driver also is in no way measly. If the world as we know it going in, so there will be probably not in a grand apocalypse and thunder of the surround speakers, but so that when you get cataracts. Slowly, so slowly that it takes time before you notice it, lose the world, its colors and contrasts, is becoming increasingly more novemberlik.

the IPBES is an international knowledge platform on biodiversity with a name far as an elephant trunck (the Inter-governmental science policy platform on biodiversity and ecosystem services). In a recent much-publicized report to the IPBES warned that up to a million species in the world are in danger of disappearing.

The big artdöden ”undermines the whole of the natural infrastructure on which our modern world is dependent on”, writes the IPBES chair, the british chemist sir Robert Watson in The Guardian. Watson has previously been the chairman of the UN's climate panel, the IPCC, and relaxing in his article linked the threat to biodiversity with the climate crisis; two existential threats, commands and reinforce each other:

”Climate change has been identified as a primary driving force behind the loss of biodiversity, already they change every part of nature. In the same way contributing the loss of biodiversity to climate change, so for example, we release carbon dioxide, the dominant 'människoproducerade' greenhouse gas, when we destroy the forest.”

, but still try to convey hope. We get together, there are still things we can, yes must, do. But do we want to?

A fine day in may makes me and my wife a short daily walk at Land's End in Cornwall, along with our oldest daughter and our son-in-law who lives a few miles further up the coast. The views are stunning; the dramatic rocks, foaming sea, the green of the moorland. Suddenly, cries the son. He has seen a cornish chough.

There is a crow with red legs and red narrow beak, a variation of the species pyrrhocorax pyrrhocorax, that is to say, a alpkråka. It is available in different versions in different places in Europe, but in Cornwall, it has a special status, which appear in the county arms. It also plays an important role in the local mythology. After his last battle to be king Arthur to have turned to a cornish chough.

was modernized and the animals no longer grazed as in the past on strandhedarna got the crowned crow, which lives on worms and insects, all the more difficult to find food on the förbuskade the chips. In cornwall last cornish choug disappeared in 1973. But then twenty years the species has återkoloniserat their old homeland, much thanks to the local lanbrukare been inspired to recreate a fågelvänligt cultural landscape.

Nothing is ödesbundet. The conditions and outcomes can be changed. But, again, do we want to?

Recently we learned that the levels of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere are now at record levels. At the same time has a half a million swedes have joined the so-called bensinupproret. They are furious that a liter of gasoline costs as much as a half cup of latte. It is as if we all lived in the childhood Skabaraland. The threat to the climate is important, but after all, I'll just run, buy, travel.

at the beaches in Cornwall. They are dragging their boards over the meadows and down the steep trails, paddle purposefully out of the heavy breakers, is a long time and waiting for the right wave to to the last triumphant ride on the vågkammen a minute before they fall. Human history sped-up. I can't help but imagine my own generation's life coincides with the last euphoric moment before the wave wins.

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