Is nature writing a form of escapism?
It’s been unbearably warm all day – too warm to go outside – so I have been sat by an open window, reading and moving as little as possible. We decided, once it started to cool down in the evening, to go for a cycle ride to Attenborough – down to the river.
There is something romantic about summer evenings and the idea of going down to the water. Perhaps because of a youth spent listening to Bruce Springsteen sing plaintively about a river. I sang that song to myself as we cycled along, cooling off in the evening air. Continue readingIs nature writing a form of escapism?