April 1997.
I am ten years old, standing at a cairn on the western coast of Ireland, talking to the wind.
As a child I saw nature as abounding with a consciousness that I could sometimes perceive though I never completely understood it. (Who does?) When I sat on the earth, I felt its heartbeat under my hands. I was certain that the old-growth forests my parents took me to possessed an identity and sentience all their own.
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