A few days ago, I was reading words written by emily, a special piece of writing, evoking childhood, edgeless time, fixed by the taste of summer sweat, smooth bark and the itch of grass. The piece is about how we first meet the earth, feel the plants and the trees (what she calls the natural world). It planted a thought seed in my mind. I fell back into memories, sensations. Bare legs. Sunshine. Rain. Instant connections between the buzz of flies, the scent of pine, fingers tinging from white touched snow, and the body, inhabited. My memories of nature when I was a child are of a place that held me while I imagined stories, a nest to return to in moments of fear; hope sprung from daffodils.