Look---here he comes, his bones are willow & he sings in birds. He rises in marsh, slips forwards by ripple & shiver. Between his tree-ribs birds flutter, then swoop ahead to settle, sing, quiver. His head is a raven’s, his eyes are wrens’ nests. By day from his throat fly finch & fire-crest & in anger he speaks only in swifts.
Look---here she comes, her skin is lichen & her flesh is moss & her bones are fungi, she breathes in spores & she moves by hyphae. She is a rock-breaker, a tree-speaker, a place-shaper, a world-maker.
Robert Macfarlane and Stanley Donwood, from Ness, Ghostways: Two Journeys in Unquiet Places (W. W. Norton & Company, 2020; orig. pub. 2018)











