INSECT-AGEDDON

 

To be printed in the FA Trophy 2nd Round Proper Saturday 15th November 2025

Like Dr.Foster I went to Gloucester in a shower of rain. It was a couple of seasons back and the only time I’ve been to their ground; but it wasn’t to see them take on Slough but to see us play Truro City who had camped up there – a mere four hours from their Cornish home. As the west county was soaked from the endless rain and pitches became more suited for water polo, Truro had no choice but to make the long journey while their new ground was being built.

Gloucester City’s ground had only been built in 1986 on the banks of the River Severn but suffered two catastrophic floods, making the place uninsurable. When mass flooding again hit the West of England in 2007, the pitch was submerged under eight feet of water, with the rain reaching almost as high as the crossbar. As well as the playing surface, the stands, clubhouse, kitchen facilities, changing rooms and shop were all swamped. It forced the club to abandon ship and play home matches in four different grounds over a ten-year period. They then finally got planning permission to rebuild and to prevent it flooding again, raise the level of the place. It was a drastic measure but it worked. Former co-chairman Alex Petheram said "We had to bring the ground up around four metres across the whole site. Then we put protective bunds in around the River Severn and raised all the levels. If this floods now we'll need an ark as the whole of Gloucestershire will be under water."

I was pondering all this and how our changing climate and more unstable weather patterns are going to challenge many clubs in the future. Then I came across a piece of brilliant journalism by Tess McClure.

She tells the story of Daniel Janzen. ‘Nearly half a century ago, the young ecologist had been out documenting fruit crops in the Costa Rican rainforest when he fell into a ravine shattering his ribcage. Slowly, he dragged himself out, crawling nearly two miles back to the research hut. There were no neighbours, roads, and no way of getting to a hospital.

‘Selecting a rocking chair on the porch, Janzen used a bedsheet to strap his torso tightly to the frame. For a month, he sat, barely moving, waiting for his bones to knit back together. And he watched.

‘In front of him was a world seething with life. Every branch of every tree was seemed to host its own small metropolis of creatures hunting, flying, crawling, eating. But the real show was at night: for two hours each evening, the site got power and a 25-watt bulb flickered on above the porch. Out of the forest darkness, a tornado of insects would flock to its glow, spinning and dancing before the light. Lit up, the side of the house would be “absolutely plastered with moths – tens of thousands of them”, Janzen says.

‘Inspired, he decided to erect a sheet for a light trap with a camera – a common way to document flying insect numbers and species. In that first photograph, taken in 1978, the lit-up sheet is so thickly studded with moths that in places the fabric was barely visible, transformed into what looks like crawling wallpaper.’

Fast forward nearly 50 years and something dramatic has changed. Daniel Janzen still works at the same station at Costa Rica with his wife. But the trees that once crawled with insects lie still. He repeats his light traps, hanging the sheet, watching for what comes. “It’s the same sheet, with the same lights, in the same place, looking over the same vegetation. Same time of year, same time of the moon cycle, everything about it is identical,” he says. “There’s just no moths on that sheet.”

‘The declines witnessed by Janzen are part of what some are calling a new era of ecological collapse, where rapid extinctions occur in places that have little direct contact with people. And when you have “insectageddon” then there will be sharp declines in birds, lizards and other creatures that depend on them for food, with some bird populations halved in half a century.

‘So how can places largely untouched by the human hand see such a decline in numbers? A tropical forest ecosystem is “a finely tuned Swiss watch”, with each element delicately tuned to interlock with the rest. And now, the system has one gear spinning wildly out of time: the climate. “When I arrived here in 1963 the dry season was four months. Today, it is six months,” Janzen says. Insects that typically spend four months underground, waiting for the rains, are now forced to try to survive another two months of hot, dry weather. Many are not succeeding.’

I’m generally an optimist, but this tale really made me stop and think. You might worry about small boats more than the extinction of half the worlds species which is not surprising really, when these issues hardly ever get told. But shouldn’t we be worrying more about these bigger threats? And is raising our football grounds and towns up on stilts really an option that we will be able to afford?

Behind one of the stands at Gloucester City you can see the old abandoned terraces, caked in mud and debris, like some apocalyptic architectural ruin. A potent picture of what is to come elsewhere if we don’t take action now?