I’ve always had a bit of a love hate relationship with nature. I grew up in Africa so there was very much an abundance of the stuff and we were forever outside. Wherever you went there was flora or fauna of some description and always of the sort of stuff people wax lyrical about. It was an incredibly beautiful place but it can become a bit much.
Pop to the shop and there was inevitably something ‘majestic’ of some description there in your face screaming “Look at me” and waving it’s arms frantically. Each morning the sunrise would require a slack handful of fire related adjectives before it would leave you alone and sunset would quite rudely demand your attention whether you had things you needed to get done or not. What’s wrong with a cold grey morning that lumbers along as you get up or it suddenly becoming dark without you noticing and accompanying fanfare.
It was though a wonderful place to grow up and whether the gorgeous expanses of the Highveld or the wild rugged coastlines it’s the sort of place most people would give an arm to grow up in and I’m really grateful that I did. I’m less grateful however for the vast array of things that wanted to kill us. Whether it be snakes, spiders, sharks, scorpions or any of the larger creatures there was such an array of deadly beasties that it really does tend to spoil things.
“Remember to check your boots for scorpions” was a piece of advice I received in the army that I will always remember.
As much as I loved it there I find England far more inviting and wholly less aggressive. Not that it isn’t completely without event though – occasionally we may have a bit of a slug problem and one day there was a badger that kept knocking over the bins which caused quite a stir. Anyone familiar with Yorkshire or the lake district would probably also agree that we compare pretty favourably to some of the more grand vistas out there even if we are more on the side of ‘picture postcard’.
But we all like different things, I get that.