I.
If any image brutally encapsulates the idea of tragic irony, then it is surely the one above.
It shows a young hedgehog seeking refuge beneath a parked car in a residential area of east London in which almost every last garden and green open space has been concreted over and built upon, leaving this lovable little creature with nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.
He might not know what fate has in store for him, but, sadly, we as viewers have a pretty good idea ...
II.
When I was a child in the 1970s, there were over 30 million hedgehogs snuffling around UK gardens; now it is believed there are probably no more than a million. Mostly this is due to the loss and fragmentation of habitat and the widespread use of pesticides. But many hedgehogs were (and still are) killed on the roads each year.
In that same period, the UK human population has grown by ten million and the number of cars has increased from 27 million to 33 million. Personally, I would rather there were fewer people, fewer cars, and many, many more hedgehogs.
To paraphrase D. H. Lawrence: I think in this world there is room for me
and a hedgehog.
And I think how easily we might
spare a million or two humans and never miss them. Yet what a gap in existence, the furry face
of that cute little mammal with a pig-like snout. [1]
Notes
[1] I'm paraphrasing the final verse of Lawrence's poem 'Mountain Lion'. See The Poems, ed. Christopher Pollnitz, (Cambridge University Press, 2013), p. 352.