Lady Chaffinch's Bother
(draft version)
This children's short graphic novel was written by us in order to use Nottingham's literary heritage (in this case D H Lawrence) to explore how technology can cause ignorance of our surroundings.
Lady Chaffinch's rich husband owns the WiFi factory, responsible for sucking the colour from the birds and bees, and leaving that terrible smog that causes people using smart phones to walk into one another in the street.
Meet Lady Chaffinch - as her name would suggest,
a Lady of class
and used the best!
Riches and status, she had the whole lot,
You’d think Lady C
Would lack not a jot.
Her husband was wealthy, was even a Sir,
Yet still a strange thing,
had begun to occur.
Connie the Chaffinch just was not content.
Her husband was dull,
whatever he spent!
So Clifford was dreary, but rolling in cash;
Owned his own business -
really quite flash!
Although most below remained unaware,
Sir Clifford Chaffinch
why, he owned the air!
Not the wind, not the breeze; he made instead
each wi-fi signal
which flew overhead.
(Oh, surely you guessed, or maybe you’d heard,
that tweeting, in fact,
began with a bird?)
His factory spouted signals in drones;
Signals for TV,
for laptops, for phones.
Now Connie, one morning, waking at dawn,
found dead silence reigned;
all birdsong had gone!
Not a tweet, nor a hoot, greeted the sun;
of dawn chorus coos
there simply was none.
Lady Chaffinch felt the stirrings of cheer -
no song had arrived,
but adventure was near!
She vowed to discover – had all the birds flown?
Flown off together?
Why hadn’t she known?
Off Lady C flew, searching for change,
But still didn’t spot
the things which were strange.
Too busy, too rich, to notice or grieve
When her husband built wires
where once had been leaves!
So, missing the cause right under her beak,
Lady C took flight
in search of mystique.
She made for the square, renowned for its crowd!
But no birds were near
and silence reigned loud.
She perched, quite despondent, by Left Lion’s mane
when a winged figure
approached through the rain.
A pigeon - ruffled, with battle-scarred beak,
He gave her a wink.
and started to speak.
“If it ain’t Lady C, wife of Sir Cliff!
Too classy for here…
there’s summink amiss!
What brings you here, on a prayer and a wing?
Wonderin’ why they
ain’t started to sing?
Technology drove all that lot away
Them signals and things;
Your hubbies forte!
Now don’tcha look cross, it’ll only get worse
Tech’s the way forward
It’s nature’s worst curse.
But ain’t it nice to be ever so rich?
Don’t matter to you!
S’only a glitch!”
“But why are you here still?” Lady C cried,
“Me? I’m a scrounger!”
the pigeon replied;
“I don’t need nature, I’m better off ‘ere,
more waste is more food;
waste don’t disappear.
So most birds fancy a little more green,
this life’s the future,
I’m king of this scene.”
Lady Chaffinch stared, her face horrified!
“But this must be stopped!
Has anyone tried?”
“Stopped? Watch ‘em humans!” the wise pigeon said.
Just look at ‘em walk!
They’ll not raise them heads
The two birds watched the hurrying crowd,
faces turned screenwards,
and every head bowed.
“Some say the death of nature’s predicted.
It don’t stop them lot,
they’re plain addicted.
Humans can make nature brighter on screens,
it don’t matter nowt
if it ain’t real green!
It ain’t just your Clifford’s business to blame,
it’s all places now,
most cities the same.”
The pigeon was right, the battle was won,
the thing was too huge
to now be undone.
“I guess,” said the pigeon, “you’ll not stick around.
You head out of Notts,
where green can be found.
Most of ‘em headed north of the city,
the signal’s get less,
the colour gets pretty.”
He turned and flew off, no further ado,
and Connie, alone,
headed into the new.
Why not try something, next time you’re in town?
Can you hear birdsong?
See nature around?
Not one single songbird resides in the square.
Only those scrounge-birds,
who’ve forgotten to care.
A city which cares for screens more than words,
not noticing nature,
is no place for birds.
But luckily, still, beyond cities edge,
nature still flourishes...
until urban spreads.
