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I may never have seen the Taj Mahal by moonlight, but I have walked in a wood carpeted with anemones, somewhere in Transylvania.
As I propped the hut door ajar so that my winter visitor could escape, I experienced a slight twinge of concern. What would it do out there, far from its nearest bush?
Sadly, I realised that these unintended sanctuaries were temporary and would soon fall to the developers.
Each species has its own style; some rise high in the air and hover, scanning the ground for tell-tale signs of movement, while others twist and dart.
Now more than ever, we should learn from our prehistoric ancestors’ reverence for the Earth.
Each year on my windy Fife ridge, I await the coming of the geese.
Our farming industry has done untold damage to habitats and humans nationwide – but it's not too late to regenerate our agricultural land.
It has been my good fortune to walk in variety of real forests, and that quality of being listened to and watched has often recurred.
Still, few tasks are as tedious as weeding.
Six days after I was supposed to die, I went home – and though I had only been gone a week, everything had changed.