成人快手

Do me a favour for a second and close your eyes. I want you to picture a nature writer. Who do you see? Is it a posh white guy with grey hair? Maybe he鈥檚 walking through a big field in the gentle drizzle of late afternoon. He鈥檚 holding his chin walking around going mmm, yes, nature. Then he returns home to write up his thoughts with his quill at his mahogany desk in front of a bay window in a big country house? Is that what you see?听听

Obviously I鈥檓 playing with a stereotype of who a nature writer is but this image is rooted, at least a little bit, in reality.听听

A recent survey by book careers.com showed that publishing in the UK is just under * and you probably don鈥檛 need me to tell you there are very few working class voices in publishing. A recent study revealed of people in the publishing industry are from working class backgrounds.听

But why am I interested in nature writing? Well for starters you and me - we鈥檙e in a piece of nature writing right now. Yes it鈥檚 a podcast but its all about nature, and I wrote it.听听

Even though this is a nature show and even as I begin to feel more comfortable in nature spaces I still feel weird with the idea of calling myself a nature writer. Its like the label doesn鈥檛 fit. I鈥檝e even had a poem published in an anthology that is all about nature. So why don鈥檛 I feel comfortable using the term?听

I guess even I don鈥檛 associate someone who grew up on a council estate with nature writing, even when that person is me. Maybe its also because the nature writing that I do or that I鈥檓 interested in as a reader isn鈥檛 the traditional, stereotypical, encyclopaedic, masculine style, and I feel like everything that isn鈥檛 that it - is valued less.听听

I want to find out more about this. So I鈥檓 off to chat with a few people who are nature writers 鈥� in that they are writers who write about鈥� nature - but who are from backgrounds not traditionally represented in the nature writing genre. I want them to help me answer the questions - who is nature writer, and what is nature writing?听听

I鈥檓 Talia Randall and you鈥檙e listening to BTABOC, the podcast where I dig beneath the surface and chat with the people who are opening up nature to everyone.听

Episode three, Who gets to be a nature writer?听

I know this question might sound a bit niche, or even academic but in this ep you鈥檒l meet three writers who answer this question by raising much bigger ideas about the nature of identity, the nature of life and death, about the nature of us. You鈥檒l hear from Anita Sethi, Jamie Hale and Natasha Carthew.听

听

鈥淲riting from black and brown people about nature and our experience of nature has been made to feel as if it doesn't belong in books鈥�.听

鈥淭he question of who is a nature writer comes down to the question, what is nature.鈥澨�

鈥淚'm a nature writer and you can say it in your accent and you can say it, you know, you can shout it from the top of your tower block.鈥澨�

TALIA: The first person I chat with is Natasha Carthew. Natasha is a working class writer from Cornwall. She writes across genres 鈥� fiction, poetry, young adult fiction, memoir and is based out of a wild writing shed, made of scrap wood, where she spends her days writing in longhand. Natasha also runs the 鈥榃orking Class Nature Writing Prize鈥�, which awards money and mentoring to working class nature writers听听

It was just before the May bank holiday and I could feel the gathering winds of the tourist storm. Natasha and I met in the coastal town of Looe in South East Cornwall and sat on a granite bench by the river where the water flows into the English Channel. We watched fisherman bringing back their catch - apparently it鈥檚 a good spot for mackerel - and tourist boats making their way around the bay to Polperro and Fowey, other popular tourist towns.听听

Looe is close to where Natasha grew up and she met me whilst taking a break from writing her memoir of rural poverty, nature and resilience.听 I had been to Looe before on holiday and I felt keenly aware that my vision of Cornwall is shaped by idyllic images of the seaside break. You know, the bucket and spade you buy from the corner shop, the ice cream spilling down your knuckles, the salted crust on your skin from the cold sea. But this is obviously not the full picture. If you look within the perfect postcard you will also see also stark poverty,.听

There are areas of Cornwall that have some of the highest levels of poverty in the UK and I don鈥檛 think I can talk about Cornwall without acknowledging the impact of second homes and holiday lets, how that drives up house prices and can fuel local homelessness. These things aren鈥檛 the quaint visions many city people like me have of coastal towns but they are just as much a part of the story as the breath-taking landscape听听

Against this backdrop, Natasha and I sat down in the shade on a warm April day. With a flask of hot water to combat the hayfever we chatted about nature writing and who gets to do it.听听听

NATASHA: It's definitely male, it's definitely white, it's you know, I'm seeing tweed jackets. And you know, and people who've got time also the time to just lament and walk the valleys and the hills and the moors and for me nature writing is not that. It can be that but it's for everybody. I always say nature writing is grubby, you know, it's dirt beneath the nails. It's rough, that's my nature writing, it's because for me writing is always like digging and you're digging in the mud. And it's what you pull out of the ground, what you find, you know, those secret things. For me, that's nature writing, but it's also not just about nature writing in the country, it's about nature writing in cities, it's about those small areas, parks. You know, even just a weed.听听

I mean, a lot of people during lockdown realise that nature is all around them, no matter where you live, it's, it's the planets, it's the it's birds, it's absolutely everywhere. And it's also the nature of us. Really important for me. I mean, that was me growing up. That the nature of me and the nature I saw around me the passion of the sea, and the tides and the weather and the rain, standing out on rocks and feeling, you know, teenage angst and thinking that weather was like me, I'm like that. And those moments of writing poetry where that's nature for me, is wild weather, as well as the pretty, pretty tree or pretty bird or you know, it's all nature. But I think the nature of us is very important. So that stereotypical image, a lot of people are put off by nature writing because they think that that's it's not for them, because that's what nature writing is. And they think, Oh, I don't fit that I'm not posh, I'm not, you know, come from a certain background. You don't need to be educated in any way because nature is for everyone. And you learn for me about nature, I didn't go to any kind of academic roots for me learning about nature was I was interested in something and then you'll go to the library or something like that and you look up stuff, or you know, you talk to people like here in Looe. You know, you talk to fishermen and you ask them about their catch and that sparks an idea or a short story or that's what it is. It's talking to people as well. So picking up on other people's nature. So nature writing is definitely for everyone.听

TALIA: I think what you're saying about how nature writing and how nature isn't always like, pretty. You know, I like what you were saying about standing on the rocks and feeling that teenage angst reflected in the wilderness of the sea, which I think is like, Yeah, I think we've all had those, like teenage moments of like, aahh. And I guess a lot of the like, shall we call it traditional nature writing feels, like you said, the word lament, it feels maybe like pretty or epic, or there's like an encyclopaedia kind of vibe to it. And it's very much around, going out, maybe conquering nature and coming back and writing about it. And it's less about maybe expressing a sense of yourself, I don't know, what do you think?听

NATASHA: It's very, that kind of stiff, I suppose it's very, this is what I'm doing, as you say, you know. For me it's about chaos. It's, it's exciting. It's messy. When you don't know when you are nature writer, you don't know what you're gonna come across, or who you might talk to, or might what you might say. But for those kind of, you know, the traditional nature writers, it is a lot of words that nobody understands, it's almost a competitiveness with each other as well, you know, and they all write the same kind of books. And we all know the table in Waterstones where they all sit and they all have the same people on their covers, saying this book is brilliant, buy it, even if we take out I mean, obviously, I'm working class writer, working class nature writer, even if you take out the working class part, women, Where are the women nature writers? Because there's loads of them and they are brilliant, and their nature writing can be very kind of, it's very passionate, and you know, multi dimensional, you know, more aspects. I think the men often, not always because I know a few of them are brilliant, but often they just, it's just from that one dimension. And it really is looking. And for me nature writing in my fiction as well, is about using all every sense that you have. So it's not just looking, it's listening, and it's also feeling and it's touching and it's tasting. And it's you know, there's a little kid for putting your tongue out when it rains, you know, that's nature. It's not just that looking, what am I looking at? And then go home and write about what you looked at听

TALIA: This idea of being a nature writer and calling yourself a nature writer, was it easy to call yourself a nature writer? I mean, do you call yourself a nature writer?

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NATASHA: It's funny, I've kind of claimed it, I suppose. Because as we've spoken about, the thought of being a nature writer, think now that sounds really kind of like you're up yourself, you know, it sounds like posh, it's a posh person thing. And then I thought no, I you know, I nature is in everything I write, whether it's poetry, fiction, nonfiction, so then I started to claim it and I hope I'm claiming it from other people in a way because that's why I set up the nature writing prize for working class writers because I was really, it's really important for me to say to people, you're working class, you live in a city or you live in the country or wherever, but you can like nature, and this is I'm allowing, it not like allowing you but people started to say, Oh, wow, I've never thought about myself as a nature writer, even though they were writing about nature, people who weren't writing about nature, now consider themselves nature writing because of that prize, because, you know, we're in our third year this year, and I think it's just getting bigger and better because it's allowing people to think, oh, I can be a nature writer. Yeah, definitely.听

TALIA: I think that's the thing about representation isn't isn't it? It's like, if you feel like you're bucking a trend, or going against like a traditional idea of what something is, like you say you do it for yourself, but you also try and do it for other people and like, maybe spark a conversation of like, there's there should be room for everyone here. There should be room for all of these voices in nature writing or in nature. You know,听

NATASHA: yeah, there's not enough diversity in nature, nature writing at all. And people think, even for people of colour or black writers or Asian writers or, you know, people think well, that's it doesn't fit their, you know, it doesn't fit what they think the nature writing is, and you just think why not? Because here are some better stories, brilliant stories, we need to look at things from all angles, and celebrate people's writing and people's nature writing coming from different backgrounds. So that's, that's really what I'm all about is you know, is nature writing is for everyone. And stop thinking about it as being that kind of white middle class, posh bloke with his jacket on and you know, the wife's cooking at home and he's just gone off for the day. Looking at clouds.听

TALIA: I think there's something as well about time, about like, writing about nature in that way is about having a lot of leisure time, potentially as well, because like writing, being a writer, isn鈥檛 an exactly a well-paid job for the majority of writers. So if you're able to, like, have someone at home, doing the housework, doing the cleaning, and you're out, like you say, looking at clouds, you get a very specific perspective. Whereas for people who are working class nature writers who might also be squeezing it in around other ways of working, the time, experience of time is different. You know,听

NATASHA: yeah, 100% its really, you know, it's really hard for writers, or of all kinds, when you've got a full time job, or you've got kids and you've got, you know, you're sitting in a factory or supermarket and you're beeping people's foods, you know, and then you look out and okay, it might be a beautiful day, or you see the wind catching in an Apple Blossom. And you go I'd love to write more about that. And you can't, because you're beeping, but then that's nature writing, too, because write it from that perspective. You know, even if you're just writing on the back cover of a receipt, well, because that's what that is. That's, that's what I'm interested in, is those, those glimmers, those moments of nature, in between. It's not going to it, sometimes it's nature that's coming to you. But it is very hard for people, it's hard for everyone who writes who has to do other jobs. You know, I'm very lucky, because I'm been working full time now for about 12 years, but even then, you know, it's yeah, it's hard. But that's the thing. That's the difference. And that's why it's so important for publishers and editors and agents to look at the stories from those people who have found it harder because it is harder to write those those stories, whether it's nature, or whatever it is, because they haven't had the luxury of every day stepping up to their desk, or, you know, out in their cabin, or whatever to write day on day because it is very hard. So I always think it's those stories. There's so many brilliant stories out there that still need to be found. But it's those writers who perhaps don't feel that they are proper writers because they have other jobs, and certainly don't have the time to give it their all.听

TALIA: All the stories out there that still need to be found. There must be so many. I also absolutely relate to what Natasha said about how odd it feels to call yourself a nature writer. But the idea of claiming or reclaiming a label that hasn鈥檛 reflected your experiences it feels quite cool.听听

I want to know if other nature writers feel the same way about this traditional image of nature writing and the weight it carries. So I had a chat with the writer Jamie Hale.听

Jamie is queer poet, author and screenwriter. They are the founder of CRIPtic Arts which showcases work by Deaf and disabled artists and in 2021 Jamie was included in the Shaw Trust Power 100 list of the UKs most influential disabled people.听

I didn鈥檛 have to travel hundreds of miles to Cornwall to chat to Jamie 鈥� I stayed in the comfort of my own front room. We chatted remotely and you might hear a slight hum in the background when Jamie speaks. This is the sound of machines that Jamie uses.听

In my chat with Jamie I raised some of the same questions that I did with Natasha. Who gets to be a nature writer and what even is nature writing?听听

JAMIE: To say that a nature writer writes about nature is both an honest answer but a bit of an easy one. And the question of who is the nature writer comes down to the question of what is nature. And for me nature is such a part of being human, that to be a nature writer is to be engaging with that temporality of being alive, whether writing about human life or the lives of other parts of nature, that acknowledgement that everything is temporary.听

TALIA: I think that's really鈥�deep, for lack of a better word in terms of like, connecting with nature is in a sense connecting to yourself, would you say?听听

JAMIE: I think if we don't understand ourselves as a part of nature, and connecting to ourselves as being a part of connecting to the natural world, then we lose something very fundamental about what it is not just to be human, but also to be so interdependent. There is a safety in seeing ourselves as independent, rational actors in the world. That, in many ways, is what people aspire to be. And even when we recognise our interdependence, and our dependence on one another, as people, it's easy to forget that we are completely dependent on the natural world, and that we are an inevitable part of it. And thus, humans are shocked when humans die in what one might call natural disasters. Although many of those are a big part of the result of human actions on nature, as well. And this desire to see ourselves as outside of nature, and as independent, intact, I think, is a fear of the awareness that within all of nature is mortality. And that mortality is central to nature, that whether it's meat and fish, or plants, anything that we eat, comes from the ending of some sort of life within nature. And that is true for everything that all parts of nature consume. But if we can see ourselves as outside of nature, we don't have to recognise that we also are subject to that cycle.听

TALIA: I鈥檓 not gonna lie, I鈥檓 a little blown away by this. Honestly, I have never thought that deeply about what nature is never mind nature writing. A nature writer is someone who engages with the temporality of being, we are interdependent, natural beings, with death as much a part of our lives as anything else, a nature writer is someone who confronts that. Pfft. you know that meme of a mind being blown, that鈥檚 me right now. If I want to understand or reframe who a nature writer is then what a way to do it 鈥� this is such an expansive definition.听听

Given that Jamie has so much to say about redefining what nature writing is听 I wonder if it was easy for them to call themselves a nature writer in the first place, or if like Natasha they tussled with that term simply because they don鈥檛 fit into that stereotypical mould of who a nature writer has traditional been.听

JAMIE: I knew that I wrote about nature and that that was quite central to the ways in which my creative work expressed itself. But to call myself a nature writer was a deliberate challenge. When you're on a podcast, nobody knows you're in a wheelchair, but as a disabled person, who cannot access the kinds of nature that I often even write about now, calling myself a nature poet is a challenge to the idea that nature poets have to be engaging with a particular kind of nature in a particular way. And especially calling myself a disabled nature poet, also comes from this sense, that as a disabled person, I am intimately in touch with the inevitable deterioration and mortality of the human body. And that flows through my work. And there's also something that when humans see ourselves as being outside of nature, I think we do that partly so that we can see ourselves as being outside of mortality. So calling myself a nature poet is a challenge to that idea of the independent human being who visits nature and is indeed about the fact that I'm nature poet, because I'm a part of nature.听

TALIA: It feels like our relationship to nature, and how we are in nature is obviously affected by who we are, our identities, our bodies, our lived experiences. And I'm really interested to know what your relationship to nature is and has been.听

JAMIE: I've always had a strong identification with the outdoors nature, the wild nature, and slightly presumptive love for spaces that it feels like, haven't been impacted by people, even as I move through those spaces as a person. But as somebody with a disability that has progressed by relationship to nature has been fundamentally shifted, as I've moved from being able to engage with that to requiring high quality wheelchair access to be in spaces. And I think that's part of why I care so much about the fact that where there are humans there is nature, because humans are a part of nature. And because when we think of nature as the external, that we can only go and experience, then it's easy to not experience that and lose touch with nature. Rather than recognising that you can keep that touch with nature, through your experiences with yourself as a natural person. I think there's there is something very interesting about the fact that the more dependent I become on machines, the more I've engaged with nature, at nature in my writing, and I think that comes through in my work. And that there is that tension, I describe myself as part cyborg, because of the extent to which I am sustained by machinery. And for me that balances through my work, such that I'm trying to write about both nature and machine. So hearing the background noise of these machines, in many ways, is part of the experience that by work is constantly in discussion with听

TALIA: This tension point between the machine and nature is something I've never really thought about. I think it's really interesting hearing Jamie's perspective on it, and also how calling themselves a nature writer was a deliberate challenge to the idea that disabled people are somehow seen as outside of nature. And reclaiming not only the term nature writer, but also a sense of belonging in or with nature.听

I wanted to know how Jamie's relationship to nature has changed, and how that shaped their writing. So I asked Jamie how they experience the natural world, how the joys of nature, and the barriers to nature influence what they write, and how they write.听

JAMIE: There are several different bits of access to nature. And some of this is about an internal access to the understanding of ourselves as a part of nature. Some of this is about access to different parts of the natural world. Some of it is about access to things like fresh, clean air. And as a disabled person, the ways in which I can access parts of nature are very limited. And I'm always caught between the parts of nature that are made inaccessible to me by people and the parts of nature that are automatically inaccessible regardless of that. And the example that I kind of try and use is in thinking about, about Everest. Climbing Everest, in some ways is seen as the peak physical activity that a human being could encounter. It is person, often man, pitting himself against nature and winning. And most of us will never be able to climb Everest. Most of us don't have the money or the physical capacity to do so. Everest is strewn with rubbish with dead bodies. It is often the sherpas who are working with the climbers that carry huge amounts of luggage take on huge amounts of the risk for comparatively low reward and receive none of the claim. And yet we think of climbing Everest as this incredible human feat. I will never climb Everest, there is no way it could be made accessible to me. And if we tried, the entire essence of Everest, would be lost, along with huge amounts of animals and plants that may exist nowhere else. If I wanted to go all over the countryside reliably, I would need tarmac paths, we would lose a huge amount, when we started turning over routes across fields. I don't think for me, that is worth it.听

At the same time, humans have built so many barriers to nature. And when I think about styles, which you might have to climb over to go from one field to another, or incredibly narrow gate known as kissing gates, because of how close people pass within them. These things create an environment that is hostile to me as a disabled person, and which prevents me from accessing nature. So I think there's a big question about what right do humans have to undertake activities that will further damage nature? But also question about if we are building access barriers for disabled people in nature? What does that tell us about what we think of disabled people as a part of nature?听

TALIA: I'd like to hear about a nature space or a moment, when you felt a deep connection to nature, whether that's quote unquote, small nature, or big nature, can you describe the sights, the smells, the feeling of that moment.听

JAMIE: In the early days of the COVID, 19 pandemic, I was one of the people advised to shield by my doctors. My condition includes a type of respiratory failure. And I use a ventilator to help me breathe at night, and when I need it during the day. So it was no surprise that I had to shield. But at that point, shielding was literally you may not leave the house, I believe the official letter I received said something about, if you miss the outside world, try sitting underneath a window. That was the extent to which I was suddenly and immediately cut off from the wider natural world. And I think that's part of where, why my real desire to understand and recognise and experience myself and experience humans as being an integral part of nature was from because I wanted to still be in touch with that. So when I was writing, my pamphlet shield, exploring those weeks, I thought about the fact that if I position my bed just right, I can see a little bit of sky around the corners of the high rise building opposite. And whether that's blue or stormy, I can see nature. And so as long as I can see that I can be reminded that it exists, but also that it doesn't care that I exist. The sky doesn't care whether I can see it, it doesn't care because it can't care, because it's the sky. And there's something wonderful about that.听

TALIA: There IS something wonderful about that! If there鈥檚 one thing I鈥檒l take from my chat with Jamie it鈥檚 the duality of recognising humans as a part of nature, our interdependence but also accepting that nature exists freely on its own without us; we can鈥檛 function without it, but nature can do very well without us. There鈥檚 something scary, amazing and oddly comforting about that. These ideas are what nature writing can give us. 听

I want to introduce you to one more nature writer, Anita Sethi. Anita is a writer and journalist from Manchester. She was recently shortlisted for the Wainwright Prize, a major nature writing award.听听

Anita鈥檚 recent memoir I Belong Here chronicled her journey through The Pennines, also known as the backbone of Britain and explored identity, place and belonging. This epic walk through the Pennines was sparked by a racist hate-crime Anita experienced whilst travelling on a train. Anita鈥檚 walk, and the book is about reclaiming a sense of self and belonging.听听

I went up to Manchester to meet Anita and we sat by the canal in the city centre. We sat under a tree, with geese squawking in the background, a boat dweller fiddling with his engine and the roar of the main road in the distance.听

I asked her this same question 鈥� who gets to be a nature writer?听

ANITA: There's been this massive barrier to who writes about nature and gets their writing about nature published and ties into whose thoughts belong in nature and the title of my book I belong here is obviously something I'm saying in response to the man who racially abused me on my trans Pennine journey, through the north and told me I didn't belong here. It's also something nature saying in the way that nature and elements of nature are made to feel as if they don't belong here. I belong here also has a third meaning in the book in the book itself is saying I belong here, because for far too long, writing from black and brown people about nature and our experience of nature has been made to feel as if it doesn't belong in books, and I very much found that in my journey to becoming a published nature writer. And it's been a wonderful experience being seeing the book on the shelves, the nature writing shelves and book shops. Its been welcomed into the world in a way that not all in the publishing industry believed it would. In the sense that people didn't necessarily think there was a market for it, which is incredibly insulting to black and brown people. To think that stories about our experience of nature wouldn't want to be read by the so called readership. Again, it leads into very, very insulting ideas about who reads and buys books.听

TALIA: And nature books specifically. I feel like so much of our vision of nature as a kind of pristine, idyllic countryside, the vision of England of Britain is obviously shaped by nature writing, and also like what we see on the TV, like nature media, I guess. And if that's just being shaped by one type of voice, that's all we're gonna get. And then the other perspectives, of which there are varied and multiple are kind of left out of that conversation, you know?听

ANITA: Absolutely. And, for me, it's intersectional as well, because race is obviously an issue, it's something that's the most immediately visible thing about me because, you know. I have a whole section in the book called skin, walking as a woman of colour. But then the elements of marginalisation, which are less visible, but you can hear them when I open my mouth, my northern accent. And class is a very interesting one, because not everyone retains their original accent. But you know, we're sitting here in Manchester, I cannot tell you how many stereotypes, negative stereotypes I've experienced as a Mancunian throughout my life. And there's a stereotype that it's all grim up north as well. And that's鈥μ�

TALIA: I mean, not today it is.听

ANITA: Its beautiful. That's also affected the regional diversity of areas that are written about in nature writing. So for me, as a woman of colour writer, it's all those kinds of intersections come together and means I've been treated as if I didn't belong, and I think it's still incredibly toxic, even when, even though I've managed to become a published author, I've still been treated by some. And I'm gonna say this really, honestly, as if I don't belong there. You know, I've had really horrible comments from white writers who've suggested I only got where I was through box ticking, even being published. And you know, getting to that stage comes with, it's like a double edged sword, there's a lot of unpleasant ripples under the surface, even when you get to the success of having a nature writing book published, which has been incredibly unpleasant for me, you know, it really affected my mental health. But I would say it's an absolute joy to have reached readers themselves. And, you know, that book has been embraced by people of all ages and backgrounds, I've had a flood of incredibly moving letters from people of all backgrounds, you know, 90 year old who walked the Pennine Way, way back when, and that is, for me makes it all worth it really.听

TALIA: Sounds really full on that, that still showing up for you. And I'm sorry that you're having to deal with all of that, because that sounds horrible. It makes me think as well. Or rather, I've been thinking a lot about nature writing, and it feels like there is a bit more of a resurgence of many different voices, writing about nature, yourself included. And I feel that when marginalised or minoritized people write about nature, we're also writing about trauma, identity, community, a feeling of not belonging. Whereas the stereotypical middle aged white class writer just gets to write about nature?听

ANITA: This is an interesting point. Actually, I was thinking about this the other day, and obviously, you know, I do explore trauma and belonging and identity in the book and these are inescapable subjects for me. I also would like to be accepted, if I want further down, I want to be able to write a whole book about lichen and not be questioned. Actually, I tackle this in the book in a very ironic way. Because ironically, in the book I explore my skin colour because it starts off being racially abused, but it's an absolute clarion call for me to be accepted beyond the colour of my skin or any other markers of my identity. And it's a clarion call to be respected equally to make our white male counterparts.听

TALIA: Totally. I mean, I do hope you get to write that book about lichen听

ANITA: maybe not lichen, I will choose maybe moss. Moss and Manchester听

TALIA: yeah, love it. I'm sold.听

TALIA: This point about being pigeon holed is really interesting to me and its come up in conversations in previous episodes. To me it feels that there is a delicate tension of needing to share and listen to lived experiences that are shaped by trauma, racism, classism, ableism and yet needing to be seen without any baggage, just as you are, and also, share your joy. As Anita said there are some subject matters that are inescapable for her, yet she should also be free to just write about moss or whatever without being othered.听

Back in Cornwall with Natasha I wanted to explore what the impact is for a reader if you only experience one type of nature writer? If you only get one perspective, what happens?听

NATASHA: I'd say you're missing out on incredible stories, you're missing out on truth, you're missing out on, and opening your eyes up to, to the world that we all live in, you got to look at things from different perspectives. If you look at it from the same perspective, then we're doomed really, you know, because we all bring something different to the table. And especially with nature writing, because we all we all bring ourselves to the table, and when we all see things in different ways. And that's what's about communication. And then about learning. We learn from each other. We learned from different cultures. When we read about nature writing, I mean, back in the day nature writing from other cultures, well, it was the white man going to the country their choosing, and writing about the natives, and you know, horrendous, absolutely horrendous, that history that the English have, and the English nature writing, you know, because again, it's from that through their filter, it's through that privilege filter. And I think it's just it's so important to just get as many perspectives nature writing, and you know, nature belongs to us all.听

TALIA: That specific perspective, or, as Natasha puts it, that privileged filter, shapes a narrative of how we see nature, but also how we see each other, and what, or who has more value. I wanted to know what Jamie had to say about this idea.听

JAMIE I think this is my problem with a lot of the sort of white, British male nature writing in many ways is that it presents a set of attitudes that see nature as being there, for the enjoyment of humans. And that by doing that, this writing creates that as a cultural understanding of the role of nature. Whereas I think, if we look at how other cultures manage nature, then we can see that actually we are transmitting incredibly harmful cultural narratives through the generations by using this material, when we could be looking at entirely different material. What would it look like if the nature poets we were exposed to what were a wide range of how it certainly but whether we're thinking of sort of poets like Tony Harrison, who is a northern nature poet, who writes from a very working class perspective about nature, whether we're thinking of poets like Lucille Clifton, who is a black American poet, who writes about nature, taking a very, very different conceptual understanding of the person as related to nature. Whether we're looking at some of the Eco poetics writers like Juliana Sfar, I hope I pronounced that right, who really thinks about the impact of people on nature, I think we could, we could learn so much and we could teach so much to children about what it means to be humans existing in nature, that would give completely different messages about our obligations to the rest of the world.听

TALIA: The filter you have shapes how you see the world, it impacts what you write for sure, but also, how you receive something. You as a listener, you bring your own experience and identity to wherever you encounter and all of that mixed together forms a cultural norm about what nature writing is, and what it can be.听听

So what needs to change? Jamie just said part of it, rejecting the narrative that nature is there for our benefit, hearing the perspectives of a multitude of nature writers. That's what you can do as a reader. But what about the gatekeepers? What change needs to happen there? I asked Anita, what she thought.听

ANITA: I mean, in terms of solutions, I don't think I don't think the onus should only be on people of colour and those affected by it to create change. There's some wonderful activism and initiatives happening. But, you know, the onus should be also on the powers that be to create change from within the incredibly powerful institutions they work in, they also need to be the ones creating change, it's just, you know, it can't just keep, keep coming from the people who are affected. I get asked to work and speak for free about the issue of inequality in a way that's incredibly ironic by people with budgets, who are not offering me to talk about how exploited I am. So I think that change also needs to come from within the structures themselves听

TALIA: Anita shared a really interesting point about power and gatekeeping in nature, writing and publishing. I think her point relates to basically all of the issues in the series so far, about barriers to nature, how we can unlock them, and who can unlock them. Back in Cornwall, Natasha echoed the sentiment about gatekeepers, as well as how to reclaim who a nature writer is.听

NATASHA: Nature writing, I think people need to more and more identify as nature writer and, and people who perhaps haven't written about nature, or the nature that we've been speaking about today, spend more time writing about the world around them, wherever they are, if it's a city, or rural or whatever. I think editors need to be more open to those stories, especially fiction writers as well. Because there's a lot of fiction writers who write about nature, or the experience of the working class and those stories are often overlooked, especially for stories set in cities. So I think editors and agents need to look outside of their usual circle of what they think might sell as well. There needs to be more, especially from working class perspective, which is, the drum that I'm always banging. It's all nature.听

TALIA: What would you say to someone who is from a working class background, who maybe wants to write about nature, thinks they might be, but is maybe put off by the baggage, let's say that might come with it, or the idea that it's not for me, I don't see myself represented, what do you say to that person?听

NATASHA: You represent yourself. Anyway, if we all just represent what we're doing, then we're changing. Absolutely. That's what I've been doing with Working Class Writers Festival. That's what I'm doing with the Working Class Nature Writing Prize is, let's represent ourselves, you know, and claim it and you can say to people, I'm a nature writer, and you can say it in your accent. And you can say it, you know, you can shout it from the top of your tower block. Then when people hear it, and then other people will change. We've got to say it, we've got to claim it we've got to own it, we've got to own the words nature writer, because kind of enough already, you know, is ours. And it's everybody's, nature is everybody's and it's not about the countryside. It's about as you say, it's about everywhere, and it's everything. It's about describing our environment, and the beauty and the hardship and everything else. That's what nature waiting is. Yeah.听

TALIAL Celebrating the act of reclaiming nature writing feels really optimistic. And that feeling is infectious. I asked Jamie what they wanted to celebrate about nature writing and about being in nature.听

JAMIE: The incredible range of thinkers, writers, speakers, activists, engaging in and with nature, in such a wide variety of different ways. The fact that there is so much out there about different ways to be with nature. You only have to look for it.听

TALIA: And in Manchester, I wanted to know what joy and Anita wanted to share.听

ANITA: I want to celebrate this moment, being alive in the here and now. It's astonishing to be alive on this amazing blue dot of a planet. And having a deeper sense of connection with nature makes me feel more alive makes me feel that I'm not apart from nature, I'm a part of nature. And nature helps me to find that joy in being alive. With every breath that I have left to breathe on this earth. That breath, of course, being created by nature itself and wonderful trees and so on.听

TALIA: The question I've been asking throughout this episode, who gets to be a nature writer? And what is nature writing? These are deceptively simple questions. Nature writers can be from anywhere, from any background. There are infinite ways to write about nature. It's just about widening your view. I can call myself a nature writer if I want to, and you can call yourself a nature listener. But in learning more about nature writing, I'm reminded about the joy of just being alive. I know it sounds proper cheesy but I genuinely feel uplifted by this, and I honestly wasn't expecting it to hit so deep. I guess I'm just going to put my microphone down now, go for a walk and breathe in the trees.听听

TALIAL In the next episode of blossom trees and burnt-out cars, I'll be uncovering the colonial past concealed in the English countryside and exploring the radical history and the future of hiking.听听

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听Join me, Talia Randall as I dig beneath the surface, and chat with the people who are opening up nature to everyone.听听

Blossom trees and burnt out cars was written and produced by Talia Randall. The researcher was Erica McCoy. The technical producer was Gayl Gordon and the production mentor was Anna Buckley. Executive Producers were Leanne Allie and Khaliq Meer. This podcast was commissioned by Khaliq Meer at 成人快手 sounds audio lab.听