Publication day!

Or so I'm assured, although I thought it was tomorrow...

Having thought for a long time that HOMECOMING was out tomorrow, it is, apparently, out today. Unless you’re a superstar author with a book big enough to make the news, publication day isn’t quite the event it once was, what with bookshops regularly sending out orders ahead of time. But that’s OK.

I was in London last week, recording the audiobook, which I thoroughly enjoyed. It’s nice to be able to say that I’m good at something and not immediately follow it up with caveats. I’m good at reading aloud.

I’ve also had just enough distance from writing it that I can now enjoy HOMECOMING for what it is: a friendly, occasionally funny, accessible and inspiring course in connecting with your nearby wild. I’ve tried to reach out beyond my bubble to draw new people into the nature-noticing world.

Here’s a short extract from near the start of the book so you can see what I mean:

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How to use this book

This journal is designed to be a year-long course in noticing, one that will plug you into the rhythm of the seasons across the British Isles in a way that you can carry forward into the rest of your life. Each month, I’ll tell you some of the stories, small and large, unfolding all around you – whether you live in the heart of a city or deepest countryside.

But this isn’t just a reading book, it’s a doing book – and that’s really important. After all, the thing that has the power to change your life isn’t within these pages, it’s out there: in your garden, on your street, in your local park, through your car window and on your weekend walks. So, to help you bring it into your everyday life, I invite you to write down in this journal the very best thing you experience in nature each day, whether it’s a bird, a cloud formation, an unusual- looking paw print or a fragrance that stops you in your tracks. You can start in any month, in any year, and continue on through the months.

If you find yourself thinking, But writing in books is wrong! I don’t think I’m going to do it, please imagine me furrowing my brow at you sternly. I really, really want you to write in this book in order for you to get the full benefit of our year- long journey. Research by Miles Richardson, who is an actual Professor of Human Factors and Nature Connectedness (!) at the University of Derby and the author of Reconnection: Fixing Our Broken Relationship with Nature, has shown that powerful and long-lasting increases in nature connectedness come from the act of reflective writing – even if it’s only a few words. So please, as well as reading this book, I beg of you: write in it! That’s what it’s been designed for.

For each month, I’ve chosen some key things to look out for and enjoy. For the most part, I’ve concentrated on what’s common and close at hand so that you can follow along, wherever you live, but there are a few ideas for things you can look for if you’re willing to travel. However, not everything in the UK can be found in every location: there are no snakes or moles in Ireland; you’ll find stag beetles in the south-east but are very unlikely to see one in Wales, and you’re more likely to hear a cuckoo in Scotland than Surrey. So, don’t be limited by my suggestions: your goal is to discover and connect with the nearby nature you have, whatever it might be.

Each month there’ll also be a ‘bird by ear’: an opportunity to learn to detect the presence of a bird by its song, call or other sound, if you’d like to (and it’s completely OK if you don’t). I’d recommend reading my description while playing the song, call or other sound on a reputable site such as www.xeno-canto.org or via the brilliant Merlin app, then going out with your ears primed to hear it. When you do, try to get ‘eyes on’ to the bird in question, as that, I find, helps the sound and ID to marry up properly and stick in your head.

In writing this book, I haven’t tried to be comprehensive; I’ve focused on the plants and creatures I love and want to tell you about, and which I hope will be relatively easy for you to find. But there’s so much more going on around you than there is space for in this book, so please, don’t confine yourself to my checklists and suggestions: get curious about everything you notice. What is it? What’s it up to? Why is it here and not there? How can you give it a helping hand?

This book doesn’t prioritise rarities, native species or even, in the strict sense, wildlife: I’ve included some garden plants like wisteria, that you might see on neighbours’ house fronts, activities and processes to look out for on the farmland many of us have become so disconnected from, and some introduced species, like the parakeets that have made London their home and are fast fanning their viridian wings across the rest of the UK. That said, here and there I’ve also made mention of some uncommon creatures, like nightingales, that can only be found in particular places, or whose numbers have fallen to levels that mean many of us today will find them hard to see or hear. Despite that, they form part of the shared cultural heritage of everyone who lives on these islands, appearing in stories, songs and folklore, and you’ll see them crop up on TV and perhaps on your socials, too. You deserve to know what we’re losing, so you can go and find it, should you want to – and while there’s still a chance to turn things around.

But as you establish this new habit, please don’t be hard on yourself. At first you might not be able to identify the things you see and hear easily – but that’s because you’re learning, not because you’re no good at it. See p. 13 for some helpful pointers on using identification apps, websites, social media and books, but mostly, just give yourself a break: it takes time to build the brain architecture to tell a robin’s song from a blackbird’s, but it does happen once you set aside enough synapses for it and build a habit of noticing. You’d be amazed how many friends of mine began this journey unable to tell cow parsley from hogweed, or a swift in flight from a swallow, and who now tell me it seems so obvious that they can’t remember a time when they didn’t know. It’ll happen to you, too – but until then just enjoy the noticing, because the other stuff will come.

And remember, when you go for a walk, stopping and waiting and looking and listening are all part of reconnecting to nature – even if you don’t manage to see the mystery creature or identify the bird this time. Allow yourself to be comfortable with uncertainty, doubt and occasional frustration: all key aspects of relating to the unpredictable, enriching, non-human world.

Finally, you might miss a day of this journal, or a few days, or even a few weeks – and that’s all right: life happens, and nature will always welcome you back home whenever you’re ready. There really is no failing at this, because the journey is the goal.

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Thank you for reading. I’ll be back in your inboxes at the end of next week, with a proper edition of Witness Marks.