Transgression

Decades earlier, before the first of us, Rob, was discovered as a mere bag of bones in a coat of skin on a First Class flight from London to Beijing, the three of us had set off into the countryside. It was a warm, summery day in late March. There was a glorious sprinkle of pale green on the hedges. Everywhere was orderly and controlled and a civility was abroad such that people who were out walking nodded and smiled and said “good day”. Walking was a fashionable strategy for managing time. People read old poetry about nature and tried to elicit the same spiritual response from the plant and animal world as the poets had once experienced. They ignored the fact that there was nothing raw in tooth and claw or untutored and self-propagating about the countryside. They took prescription pills to heighten empathy with the fauna and flora that was allowed.