Dear Earth, here is wet-dog joy.

Our seven dogs hadn’t met before. As we swapped polite human pleasantries they sniffed each other’s bums and worked out how they might play together. Half-way through our walk this oasis of water presented itself and they all bounded in, delighted.

Whenever I go online, I encounter thorns. They prick me with news of environmental breakdown and stark political denial. They catch on my clothes when I’m drawn into fierce and polarised arguments. Sometimes they draw blood, or tears.

There are thorns in the real world too. There’s no avoiding them. And, the way I use the internet means I end up hurting myself over and over, the thorns all gathered into one place and electrified.

If I am to be of use to you, darling Earth, I need to watch dogs splashing in cool water. I need to go away for a week with cake and a teetering pile of books. I need to talk to people who get it. I need to let my eyes rest on the electric blue spray of lobelia, the veined frills of purple kale, the red blobs of runner bean promises.

We need to be wounded to understand wounding. We don’t have to seek it out – there is enough already. We need to tend to these broken places in ourselves and in others, seek understanding, grow scar tissue, grow compassion. We need to keep our eyes open, dear Earth, and speak up for you.

There is always enough love to salve our wounds, but only if we ask for it. I’m asking. I’m receiving. I’m garnering strength for whatever is next. Today, I’m delighting in the grins of splashing dogs.

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Thanks to Charlie Wilder for the photo