Mildest Winter Ever

Global warming is happening, people. I know there are still some idiots persons out there who continue to deny that the earth is heating up, persons who by sheer unrelated coincidence happen to sell 4x4's or crude oil or sun-loungers for a living, but there is no disputing the fact that every Winter I have spent in the UK has been warmer than the last. This one in particular has been a breeze - a light, mild breeze at that. A breeze which barely necessitates the addition of a scarf, let alone the coat + fleecy + multi-layered-undergarments combo that the first Winter required.

The first Winter I spent here, skirts were out of the question. Even light trousers were a no-go. Knee-high socks underneath the trousers were not uncommon. It's not just me; people who have lived here all their lives comment on how much colder it used to be. We had a wasp in our kitchen last night - a WASP! - in what is supposed to be the dead of Winter.

And I think that is what concerns me the most, the fact that insects and animals are starting to get confused and behave strangely: coming out of hibernation early and finding that their usual food source is unavailable; or migrating further north than they should because the water temperature is too warm. Once we manage to stuff up that ever-so delicate balance of life on this planet, we are all screwed.

Most of all, I really, REALLY don't want to be watching re-runs of Planet Earth with my under-developed, brittle-boned albino grandchildren, telling them that yes, that snow leopard really did exist in Grandma's lifetime; but that we didn't look after our beautiful planet and that is why we all have to live in oxygen pods on Mars now. And drink recycled urine.