The N71 is my road to heaven. It’s the road I drove to countless happy holidays, bracing swims, island adventures, beautiful meals, mountain escapades, my wedding, other people’s weddings. I have a Pavlovian response to that road. My shoulders drop, my heart fills with gratitude about whatever pleasant destination awaits. West Cork is my Irish destination of choice.

Last week, work and pleasure combined, and I spent a few days driving parts of West Cork well off the beaten tourist trail. What I found was beautiful, as always. But two recurring sights unsettled me.

The first was brown. Burnt, scorched patches of roadside verge where the wild growth had been chemically sprayed. Glyphosated to death. Not just the weeds gone, but everything. Grasses, wildflowers, the lush green abundance that insects depend on. Road verges, property entrances, I even spotted an entire rust coloured field.

The second sight was purple. The creeping spread of rhododendrons. Pretty enough to look at, devastating in their effects on native ecosystems. Since a recent break in Kerry, where the invasive shrub has colonised whole hillsides of Killarney National Park, I’ve been noticing it everywhere. In West Cork, it seemed to have encroached further since my last visit. Or maybe my eyes have just tuned to it better.

Brown and purple patches. Two different kinds of damage with........

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