In this time of digital living, switching off technology and wandering outside has become a powerful act of reconnection to our natural world. Bethany Sewell reflects on the importance of acknowledging the wildlife on our doorsteps as life continues through the pixels of our screens.

The rising and setting of the sun is a sacred ritual which has never changed. Marking the beginning and end of each day, the creation and expiration of existence and the gradual transformation of our planet from natural to industrial. However, this gradual change of light overtime has become chaotic, busy and a time of rushing.

With rushing, comes forgetfulness. Whether the busy commute to work caused us to forget to pick up our morning coffee or that important document needed for the days meeting, this same forgetfulness is resulting in society becoming blind to beautiful natural spectacles that are happening parallel to the rush of the rat race.

Mirroring human routine, starling murmurations swirl about the evening sky, mimicking the mass crowds that once flocked onto public transport, as the light fades from deep reds to purples and inky blues. This is blue hour. The short integer of time beginning from the moment the sun sinks under the horizon, or just before it creeps above it and into view. This tranquil transition supposedly a time of reconnecting with loved ones, ourselves and our environment, has become polarised from this meditative process. Making it easier to forget the rich nature that is equally living, thriving and busying all around us. Instead, blue light from our screens fills our lives, illuminating house interiors, workspaces and everything in between; blue hour has become every hour. We surrender to the enticing glow containing both our work and social lives on one small, thin layer of glass and metal. In doing so, knowledge, curiosity and childlike wonder for the wildlife the other side of our windows is being slowly lost and forgotten. The information being fed to us from the blue light of our screen’s spirals and swirls, just like the murmurations do, except this spiral never goes to roost.

Over the past few months our reliance on this technology and its importance for society has been revealed. While this has major benefits for our globalised world, have we become a little too comfortable with the idea that the majority of our lives now exist through a two-dimensional lens, that is incapable of igniting our senses? Afterall, blue light has the shortest wavelength compared to other light forms such as infrared, ultraviolet and ultimately white light. A fitting metaphor illustrating that blue light alone can only offer a shallow, surface level experience of life.

What happens when we switch off our screens in such a digitally reliant world? Maybe a strange sense of grief for the withdrawal of endless information that lies at our fingertips. But, in time the desire for instant information and entertainment fades into noticing a much more profound stimulus; the life that we live alongside.

At this time of year, as the weather gets colder and blue hour comes later in the morning and earlier in the evenings, catching glimpses of crepuscular creatures, (species which are most active during twilight), is a special and memorable experience. These sightings more often than not a spontaneous event, sparking more emotion and feeling than any blue hue radiating from our screens. These emotions, initiated by the swoop and soar of an owl in and out of view, or a fox darting across the driveway just as the last of the light fades, reinstates the thrill of feeling alive and present in a given moment.

Throughout history, these species have witnessed the rise and fall of rush hour, the increasing glow of artificial light pollution and the ongoing separation of nature from society. But, after having spent so long inside staring into a void of pixels, the rush of nature all around us at blue hour will reveal itself, as we learn to appreciate the outdoors once again. Embracing this wildlife will form an overdue witness statement. Testifying that making a conscious effort to observe the wildlife around us and take a walk outside, is a powerful tool which can be used to aid today’s global mental health crisis and the ever-growing pandemic of loneliness.

Blue light no longer has to be white noise’s monotonous equal, but instead a period within each day to step away from the short, bright wavelengths in front of us and into a much more meaningful and refreshing reality. Which, if we begin to incorporate this into our everyday routines will gradually start to close the gap between us and nature. Pointing to a hopeful future, and improved quality of life.

When the Light Burns Blue

In this time of digital living, switching off technology and wandering outside has become a powerful act of reconnection to our natural world. Bethany Sewell reflects on the importance of acknowledging the wildlife on our doorsteps as life continues through the pixels of our screens.