The Ancestors Muse

10/08/2026

Now, bear with me. 🐐

I don’t want to put words in his mouth. But this gentleman leant through the fence, fixed me with a look, and quite clearly had something to say. A grievance, perhaps. A philosophy. Possibly just a strong opinion about my camera.

I nodded along politely. I did not understand a word of it.

So I’m turning it over to you: what do you think he was trying to convey? Best answer in the comments wins his eternal respect. Or at least mine.

08/08/2026

Not everything beautiful belongs on a wall.

This is a Lacewing butterfly, a jewel of a thing, all scalloped edges and that impossible orange-and-red patterning. Most people have only ever seen one behind glass in a butterfly house. Almost no one has had one on their kitchen table.

Until now.

Handcrafted tempered glass serving boards, each one featuring my own macro wildlife photography — a working piece of art for grazing boards, cheese, or simply to sit out and be looked at. Beautiful enough to display, tough enough to use.

Five species. Limited run. Link in bio.

Bring the wild to your table.

07/08/2026

I met a peacock this week, and hoped for a show.

He had other plans. He noticed me, accidentally, and with the faint irritation of someone interrupted, then went straight back to ignoring me and everything else around.

No display. And fair enough, really: there wasn’t a single peahen in sight, no rival male, no audience worth the effort. That whole extraordinary train only comes out when there’s someone to impress. No crowd, no show. Just a very beautiful bird, having a quiet afternoon off.

Turns out even peacocks don’t perform for free.

04/08/2026

This one had decided to take the path.

Not the grass, not the air, the actual footpath, striding along like a small commuter with somewhere important to be.

Wings fully available, entirely unused. Walked all the way to the end, then vanished round the corner about its business.

Nature does this to me constantly. You go looking for the dramatic shot and instead something makes you laugh out loud on an empty path.

01/08/2026

Parenting doesn’t get easier, whatever species you are.

First : Devotion. Everyone tucked in close, calm, a picture of family harmony.

There’s a change : The truth. There were four goslings, and no two of them were ever going the same way.

Breaking point : Defeat. That’s the parent honking the stragglers along; a telling-off that, as far as I could see, achieved absolutely nothing.

Different species. Identical job. My full sympathies.

31/07/2026

They came prepared.

Blanket down, food ready, and an entire gathering of park birds who clearly knew exactly where to be.

This couple sat and hand-fed them like old friends, completely absorbed, entirely unbothered by the small crowd of onlookers slowing down to watch. And people did watch; half in wonder, half in that slightly baffled way we look at anyone doing something wholeheartedly in public. It didn’t touch them for a second.

There’s a quiet lesson in that. Do the thing that means something to you. Let people look.

26/07/2026

The willow: the correct response to a heatwave. 🖤
All that green pouring down to the waterline makes the best shade in the park, and it knows it. I found a bench half-hidden in there and briefly considered never leaving.

24/07/2026

I went looking for interesting subjects and found four cows in the long grass. I assumed they were part of a Christmas nativity. I was wrong.

Three years of returning later, I have learned what they are really doing there, why that black box hangs around her neck, and why one of them has come to feel like an old friend.

The full story is in today's newsletter.

That is where they were. Four English Longhorns in the forest, suggesting they had always been there.