As the natural world grows smaller, so too does its intensity and the size of the window through which it may be viewed.

Stop and unplug,” say I; “look around you, at the vastness and greatness of the natural world.” Some stop. Others need binoculars to tie their shoelaces.

I’m likely to stay here, pen in hand, until dusk comes and my writing melts into the twilight.

The real reason I like natural fabrics is not just because they are traditional, but because of their provenance. I like the thought that, for example, a favourite tweed jacket was once a sheep, living upon a mountain in Scotland.

Seek a slower, simpler life.

As the daydreams grew longer, the distinction between what was real and what was imaginary grew less. Soon I existed in a blissful world of my own creation.