Dear Earth, in praise of wet afternoons.

In praise of finds on the wet forest floor: a snapped off squirm of pale root imitating a worm, a majestically spiked conker coat, a lime strip of moss like the sloughed-off pelt of a mini beast.

In praise of the chance meeting of three dogs on the hill, strangers for a few seconds only, who delight in each other’s smells and exuberance, chasing each other away and back in a dance of Right Now.

In praise of the invention of wellingtons and waterproof trousers, and of purple socks that keep my toes toasty, and of a hoodless rain-kissed head so I can be closer to you, darling Earth.

Harder, granted, to praise little dogs who don’t like being in selfies, and then dash away when you try to put them back on the lead. Despite the offer of juicy sweet-potato treats, despite the feigning of disinterest, despite stern words.

Still. Then there is a warm shower to ease clots of mud from fur. Then there is steaming redbush tea in a favourite mug. Now there is this blackbird, dueting with Carrie Cleveland as she sings about love in 1978.

This blackbird is going to break my heart, sweet Earth.

With gratitude that goes on and on,

Satya <3