Posted by James on Nov 17, 2011 in
Hmm,
James Holden James Holden, Managing Director of PR, Design and Marketing specialists Leader finds inspiration for our times from a new play at the RSC.
I’ve recently been to see ‘Written on the Heart’ performed by the Royal Shakespeare Company. It’s a new play written by David Edgar to tie in with the 400th anniversary of the King James Bible (KJB) and what a remarkable performance the company delivered in their newly refurbished home in Stratford-upon-Avon.
The play is based on some of the people who played a key part in the production of the KJB –the biggest selling English language book ever. Like it or hate it the KJB has undoubtedly played a huge role in the history of the English speaking people and indeed no less an atheist than Richard Dawkins has stated that ‘Not to know the KJB is to be in some small way, barbarian.’
And yet as ‘Written on the Heart’ makes clear the vital work that preceded the KJB was not welcomed. William Tyndale, whose work constitutes around 80% of the KJB, was forced to flee to Germany in 1524 in order to carry on his work and the fruit of his labours had to be smuggled into Britain only to be burnt ceremonially outside St Paul’s Cathedral. In the mid 1530’s Tyndale was arrested for heresy and in a moving scene Edgar shows us Tyndale incarcerated in a Flanders dungeon shortly before he was executed
And yet the powers that be (there’s a KJB expression for you!) could not hold back the force of the written word presented directly to the people in a style and methodology suited to the times. In many ways we find ourselves in a similar position today. The communications revolution that we have witnessed in recent times has changed the world every bit as much as the printing press did at the beginning of the modern era. If you need convincing, just take a look at the role that Twitter and the humble SMS have had in the Arab Spring.
It might seem odd then, that I still talk to a lot of organisations that have been remarkably naïve in their attitude to the possibilities for better conversations that new technology offers them. Some seem to want to hold things back, many seem to live in denial, whilst others leap into the virtual world with abandon – failing to think through what they are trying to achieve.
According to Foxe’s Acts and Monuments of Martyrs, William Tyndale’s last words at the stake were: ‘Lord, ope the King of England’s eyes’ and perhaps those words are still relevant as we reflect on how the technology revolution has presented us with new possibilities that could really help our organisations to thrive in challenging times but which we haven’t yet seen.
Posted by James on Oct 12, 2011 in
Hmm,
James Holden 
The windpump, known as Norman’s Mill, was relocated to Wicken Fen in the 1950’s
Coming back from a long weekend’s birding on the North Norfolk coast we decided to break our journey at Wicken Fen – a National Trust property that preserves the only section of the Great Fen that has never yet been ploughed. It’s an amazing expanse of reeds and sedge trimmed by emerging woodland and dykes. We’d visited in the spring and had been delighted to see all manner of summer migrants (including cuckoos) and breeding lapwings wheeling joyfully and calling our their vernacular name – ‘peewit, peewit, peewit’.
To be honest there weren’t a lot of birds around. Distant views of hunting peregrines and kestrels and a large flock of redwings fresh in for the winter from Scandanavia on a north wind were probably the highlight in terms of birds. That said, it was great to watch the hunting dragonflies and wild honey bees busying themselves in a new hive they had established in a deep fissure in an ancient willow.
I was most taken though by a volunteer preparing a wind pump for action. As the wind freshened we watched him stretching out and securing green curtains of canvass to two of the four vanes. It was a lengthy process that gathered quite a crowd who were delighted once the fastening ropes were firmly in place and the sails of the only working wooden windpump in the Fens began to whirl and water began to move.
“This windpump, known as Norman’s Mill, was relocated here in the 1950’s,” our volunteer Peter explained, “but it no longer drains the fen, it’s all about getting water onto the fen these days as Wicken is gradually drying out. As you probably know Wicken has been heavily studied by students at Cambridge University for decades and many plants and animals have disappeared or are in the process of doing so. In particular the swallowtail butterfly no longer flies here as its food plant, the milk parsley has become very scarce – mostly because of reduced water levels.
“Norman’s Mill has been doing it’s best but nowadays we don’t get any of the alkali flood water off the Newmarket chalk ridge so we’re fighting acidity too. That’s where our new pump is going to make all the difference.” Peter pointed to another, modern wind pump just across the fen. “Very soon that windmill will be pumping water out onto Wicken from a chalk stream and it could make all the difference. Seeds from historic plant life will be regenerated and once the plants are back the insects, maybe even swallowtails, will follow and Wicken’s whole web of life could be restored.”
How wonderful is that I thought, and all thanks to the power of Norman (and his human helpers of course) to do what he could even when it wasn’t really enough. Norman held the fort until re-inforcements appeared – a lesson perhaps for all of us as we deal with issues and difficulties that often seem to be overwhelming us.
Posted by James on Sep 9, 2011 in
Hmm,
James Holden 
Twites – a quietly pretty finch rather like a linnet that’s becoming increasingly rare – feeding among the seeding grasses at the edge of the beach.
Well, my summer holidays are well and truly behind me now, but memories linger (I hope yours do too) – and what fond ones they are. This year we holidayed at the House of Aigas just outside Inverness. Set up in 1977, Aigas was Britain’s first field study centre and to this day it remains dedicated to its vision – ‘Sharing the Wonders of the Wild Highlands’.
To me it’s astonishing how much of those wonders are still there for all to see – given expert help of course. At strategically positioned hides we enjoyed fabulous views of wild creatures coming in for some light supper. A female badger was great value as she trundled down the bracken clad slopes and knocked a weighty stone away with her snout to reveal a little cave of peanut butter beneath. While she was still licking her lips a lithe young pine marten, for all the world like a leggy stoat, popped in for some raspberry jam smeared on a pine branch.
On another evening we watched beavers dining on birch bark and water lillies – I can still hear the sound of mum slapping her tail hard on the mill pond smooth surface to alert her kits to our presence.
Wonders indeed, but the fragility of our planet and its ecosystems where very evident too. One day we left Aigas early to head for the west coast in search of otters. In torrential rain and gloom we passed through mile upon mile of wet desert. The craggy hillsides that once had been clothed in forests of pine and oak, birch and rowan, wild cherry and alder were all entirely naked save for a thin acid soil that grew only heather and moor grass.
There was a sense of gloom in our party that only lifted with better weather after lunch. At a sheltered harbour we stumbled upon a small flock of twites – a quietly pretty finch rather like a linnet that’s becoming increasingly rare – feeding among the seeding grasses at the edge of the beach. “Look at the twites,” I said to two French speaking Swiss women in our group. “Who is zis twit,” came the answer and I smiled.
Later, back at Aigas, I read the quote from Gavin Maxwell (of Ring of Brightwater fame) in the entrance lobby:
‘I am convinced that man has suffered in his separation from the soil….the evolution of his intellect has outrun his needs as an animal, and as yet he must still, for security, look long at some portion of the earth as it was before he tampered with it.’
Quite, I smiled once again and decided that whilst ‘zis twit’ is in fact us – it is still not too late for us to wise up and use our skills and business expertise to restore our world- which is exactly what Sir John Lister-Kaye has been doing through his work at Aigas.
Posted by James on Aug 17, 2011 in
Hmm,
James Holden 
The Spotted Flycatcher with a wasp carefully held in its beak.
I’m writing this hmm on my return from the second day of the third Test against India at the new look Edgbaston. What a cracking venue it is now and how wonderful to see England playing so splendidly. I hesitate to say it, but surely we’ll be the number one test nation very soon. Time will, as ever, tell.
Yet my trips to Birmingham have been in the immediate aftermath of the riots and looting that have plagued our cities this summer. It was odd travelling on a double decker through a City centre that featured so many boarded up shops like broken teeth in a losing boxer.
A mix of good and bad I guess which, strange as it seems, leads me back to a pair of Spotted Flycatchers that nested down the lane this year. The spotted flycatcher may look rather dull and inconspicuous but we really got to know them well as they raised their family in next door’s wisteria and they really are characterful. The parent birds worked so hard to find enough insects for their hungry youngsters and we delighted in watching them hunt from a favoured perch. The hunter always sat bolt upright and then of a sudden leapt upwards and outwards in a boomerang assault upon a flying insect.
What, I wondered, was their favourite prey? The answer (at least in part) was revealed when I used my car on the driveway as a makeshift hide and waited. The birds liked to use the picket fence as a staging post to the nest after a successful foray. I hoped I’d get a good photograph in front of some beautiful blue delphiniums. Within an hour I got some close up shots of a returning parent with its beak full of food although sadly not in front of the delphiniums.
As I blew up the images on the back of my camera I was astonished to see the food was a wasp. The parent held the dead insect transversely across its abdomen such that the sting had been popped and rubbed out.
How clever I thought that by removing the bad our flycatchers had something nutritious for their young. Perhaps it’s time for us to take a leaf out of the flycatchers book and deal appropriately with the poison that our society seems to be feeding its young. As a chief exec of Coca Cola is once reported to have said, ‘You can’t have healthy businesses in a sick society.” (And being No1 at cricket doesn’t change that).
