A PLAN to carpet the bleak tarmacscape of Wroughton airfield with solar panels has drawn enough objections to prompt a public inquiry.

These objections haven’t come from members of the public or their democratically-elected representatives, but rather from groups such as English Heritage, Natural England and North Wessex Downs Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.

The gist of them is that a solar farm would make the place look unattractive.

Now then, far be it from me to criticise these organisations, but if anybody reading this is a member, can I just make a few suggestions about the wisdom of choosing one’s battles?

If you’re going to object to a change of use for a piece of land on the grounds that you think it’ll be an eyesore, ask yourself what it looks like at the moment.

What do people see, for example, when they gaze on the site from nearby hilltops and footpaths?

Is it Mother Nature gowned in gorgeous emerald against a backdrop of fathomless azure? Does the breeze carry her exquisite perfume and render the whole of Creation a delightful nosegay?

Moving closer, do we begin to discern jewels such as wild flowers and butterflies? Do we hear the song of the lark and the nightingale, the bubbling chatter of the goldfinch, the sweet extemporisation of the blackbird?

Or is the place a dirty great expanse of grey concrete and tarmac, almost featureless apart from lane markings and the odd sliver of green where a few blades of grass have appeared in cracks?

If the former description applies, then protest as hard as you like – and make sure you let the rest of us know so we can all join in.

If it is the latter, ask yourself whether the proposed change at the site would make it look any less attractive. If not, you might want to adjust your priorities.

Now ask yourself another question. If the solar panels are installed at Wroughton, assuming they’re not arranged to spell a rude word in letters several hundred yards high or depict a gigantic private part, what real difference will be made to the landscape?

You should also ask yourself why the planned change has been made.

If it’s to give a bunch of rapacious developers the chance to fill their pockets by needlessly strewing our land with nasty, shoddy, extortionately-priced, cheek-by-jowl architectural monstrosities, then we’ll join you at the barricades.

If, on the other hand, the plan is to provide perpetually renewable power and eventually bring our bills down, you should tread carefully.

After all, you don’t want to give anybody the impression that you’re completely out of touch with hard-pressed ordinary people, or that you value some ethereal notion of ‘Olde England’ more than you value actual flesh-and-blood English people and their needs.

Come to think of it, if the public have already given their assent to a scheme and you march in to demand a public inquiry, we might start to get the idea that you’re meddlesome elitists.

In view of your excellent work in many other cases, that would never do.

WHAT REPUTATION?

POLITICIANS have been worrying that the Maria Miller expenses row damaged the reputation of politicians as a whole.

If you are such a politician, fear not.

The case of Miller, pictured, who was originally told to pay back more than 40 grand but had the figure reduced on the orders of fellow MPs, has come as no surprise whatever to the public.

The case has done absolutely nothing to change our opinion of the political class in general.

Nor has that opinion been changed by the fellow politicians queuing up to defend Miller, even if those same politicians advocate prison for any hard-pressed, poverty-stricken wretch who forgets to mention a minor change of circumstances to the benefits authorities.

Whether you’re a politician accused of making an excessive claim, a politician who defends a fellow politician under such circumstances, or a politician who remains silent about such matters, our opinion hasn’t altered.

The same applies if you’re one of the many politicians of all parties who campaigned relentlessly for MPs’ expenses to be kept secret altogether, and for the law to be changed to exempt those expenses from Freedom of Information legislation.

Fear not, all of you: your reputation is as undamageable as a dirty window smashed years ago and never replaced.

Or a car that’s already been driven off a cliff, taken to a scrapyard, crushed, cubed, shredded and set on fire.

NO LAW AGAINST CHILDREN'S CHALK DRAWINGS

LAST week some protesters turned up outside Jobcente Plus in Princes Street.

Their mission was to condemn Atos, the benefits organisation accused of driving disabled claimants to despair. The protesters wrote some messages in chalk outside the building, and officials inside promptly called the police.

Just to save those officials time and confusion in the future, it’s probably worth pointing out that there’s no law against demonstrations, whatever the rights and wrongs of the issue.

Also – again, just in case there’s any confusion – there’s no specific law against writing or drawing on a pavement using an impermanent medium such as chalk, unless the messages are threatening or criminal in some way. You could try claiming it’s criminal damage, but that might not fly with the prosecutors if the ‘damage’ can be repaired with a bucket of water.

THE BITS THEY LEFT OUT...

THERE was a delightful little ‘wedding’ in Broad Town near Royal Wootton Bassett the other day.

Four-year-old pre-school pupils Penny and Daniel took part in a mock ceremony at the local church, so they and their friends could learn about marriage.

I daresay it was best to confine things to the ceremony, as staging a mock reception would have been too difficult – not to mention morally questionable: “Now then, children. Who wants to be the mothers of the bride and groom and have a big argument over one of their offspring being too good for the other?

“And which of the boys wants to wear a grey wig, pretend to drink some magic lemonade and then do an embarrassing dance to the music and fall over?