When on my walks, I can find homes in all shapes and sizes. The homes I find in the dead bits of wood or piles of old rock, that separate me from the land I see on the other side, in these homes I find something curious.

Something new, alive and thriving from what is already dead.

Something that lives in the things used to enforce boundaries, the human-made separation that keeps me out or protects and maintains the ‘nature’ that is kept within.

I like the idea that even in the human structures that keep things apart, the more-than-human-world prevails.

I wonder what ideas might live in the human-made gap, that exists in language and in culture, between what is called the ‘human’ world and what is called ‘natural’ world.

What might it mean to belong to one and not the other? Could I live in the middle? Where might we find home?