Doesn’t it strike you, as it often does me, the impact of the overwhelming number of people now trampling across our once serene hills and moors? I confess, I don’t mean to sound presumptuous or possessive, for they are meant to be savoured and shared by all who can appreciate them. Yet I can’t shake off this gnawing sense of guardianship, an urge to protect them from the potential harm brought about by the ever-increasing masses. A feeling of solastalgia. One would hope that those who visit such places would hold the same reverence and regard for the landscape, but alas, it seems to be a misguided hope, a human fallacy.
Each time I venture out these days, the disheartening signs of neglect and mistreatment become all too evident. Eroded footpaths, litter strewn carelessly, so-called “biodegradable” offerings left to the whims of some mystical poo fairy, and the thoughtless creation of new ‘desire’ routes carved out by inconsiderate mountain bikers. It’s dispiriting to witness, and to add to the dismay, an abandoned campsite marring the beauty of Newton Wood was discovered yesterday. A return visit today was to tidy it up.
Now, I can’t lay claim to the notion that people flock to the hills because they have seen a photograph I took, for that would be an arrogant assumption. But maybe there is a trickle down effect. A trickle that began its course from this humble online rambling of mine. Is this blog part of the problem? A platform which sings the praises of the beauty and uniqueness of the moors. I can’t deny the truth that the moors have become a bustling hub post-Covid, or so it appears, like giant ant hills teeming with human activity, and the trend shows no sign of slowing.
Yet, what can one do in the face of this escalating issue? I’ve attempted in the past to challenge misbehaviour when I have encountered it firsthand, but more often than not, this has led to uncomfortable confrontations, leaving me with a lingering unease lasting many days.
Surprisingly, cleaning up this abandoned campsite only took eight minutes of our time. But that, of course, didn’t include the effort of walking in and hauling the collected litter to the top of Roseberry Lane, where National Trust rangers can eventually dispose of it — at a cost at the local tip!
The plight of our precious moors and hills weighs heavily on my mind, and the question of how to address this dilemma remains unanswered. It’s a conundrum that should demand attention and action, lest we allow the beauty of nature to be despoiled by our own negligence and disregard.
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