On seeing places with 'humble wonder'

Lobelia siphilitica, the great blue lobelia, or blue cardinal flower (because it's often planted next to red cardinal flower).  The name comes from the thought that it would cure syphilis. 

This Yuvan Aves Instagram post

“Books, like landscapes, leave their marks in us… certain books, though, like certain landscapes, stay with us… changing not just our weathers but our climates” [this I find is from Landmarks, Macfarlane's book]

When I was 16-17, among the most stormy parts of my life inwardly and outwardly, the headmaster of the school I stayed in gave me books by three nature-writers, seeing my everyday keenness for seeking other species. They were M.Krishnan, Annie Dillard and @robgmacfarlane . I wanted to grow up to be a naturalist/nature-writer-educator. It was also something I had to suppress often for the ridicule it attracted in family circles and some social groups. There was a threshold-crossing when I began reading these three authors - of pursuing steadfast what life seemed to call for.

From Robert I adopted/learnt one of the most important principles I continue to practice. Of seeing places and other beings with ‘humble wonder’. I am training to be generous with my words towards my friends, like Rob. Words are “our most inexhaustible source of magic” as Dumbledore said. The Lost words is perhaps Rob’s most magical book reinfusing vividly into our language other beings, for thousands of children in the world. That book also made us friends - changing once again, not just my weather but my climate.

On the 12th of this month early morning Rob arrived in Chennai. Around 4.30 am after a long time I heard the Indian Thick-Knee calling near home, before I got in the car to pick him up. He is writing a new book which self-reshapingly delves into- “Is a river alive? Can a forest think? Can a mountain remember?”. Over the last several days we’ve been journeying around the city’s wilds, seen a campaign victory for a lagoon, had a formative discussion on the aliveness of ‘complex earth entities’ with many young activists/naturalists. On a shorewalk on Elliot’s beach we sat by a dead turtle during high tide and I read to him a few pages from an upcoming book of mine, a diary of the coast. On the meridian 7 planets had aligned in an arc over us, Mercury on the horizon, Mars at the zenith. Flying foxes and bee-eaters sailed over the city. Five Grey herons stood under the broken bridge dusk-still on the sky-red Adyar’s estuary.