"We are the people of this land. We are nature, human and non-human. These are our bodies. Together we are one body, we are creation, and always will be. We matter. Humus, seed, fruit, tooth, organ, blood and bone. We are root, water, mud, alga and stone. We are the snap of bladderwort. We are buttress-rooted trees. Orchid, fern, dragonfly, elephant, monkey; we are larva, worm, cocoon; creeper, liana and honeybee. We are this forest. Trogon, drongo and hornbill; cobra-lily, ginger and cinnamon; mushroom and pill millipede. We appear from the cloud, we are mist, we are monsoon rain. We are strikes of lightning charging the soil. We are moonshine through the canopy. We are women. Men. Hermaphrodite. Other. Children." In this lyrical piece, Suprabha Seshan, a conservationist who lives and works in a forest-garden in the Western ghats in India, muses about the forest and the many sensory gifts she has to offer. Read on for a richly-meditative account of life in one of the most bio-diverse zones of the planet.
