Buraco das Araras, ‘the Macaw Hole’, is a Psittacidae hiding place for green-winged macaws. It is located in the municipality of Jardim, near Bonito, a centre of ecotourism in Brazil. The reserve is on the tourist circuit and sees visitors who have also visited the Pantanal wetlands, snorkelled in the clear forest rivers and horse ridden on dusty ranches.

My grandmother was taught to act like a lady at all times. She, in turn, did her best to influence my mother in the same way. This was ultimately a failure as Mum famously climbed out of the window during most of her elocution and etiquette lessons. It dawned on me while walking down a main public street, eating a family-sized pizza accidentally ordered due to a language mix-up, that this might explain why people say I sometimes stray from elegance. This was only the first ni

I had been avoiding lone wanderings since I moved into the area. The Coronavirus pandemic, combined with the fact that my office was based near where Sarah Everard had been attacked, had diminished my confidence in exploring alone. But to experience wildlife, one cannot remain indoors, so my journey took me to a suburban park with crisp packets crackling underfoot and Wood Pigeons sauntering suspiciously through uncut winter grass. I came across a muttering woman in her early

I so looked forward to the moment my pink and purple welly boots reached the top of the hill. This was back when the top of my head reached the top of my Nanna’s tiny Welsh slate fireplace. It was the only place in the whole world where we; my brother and I, were allowed to swear. We didn’t just curse though, with grinning faces, we screamed until our throats were sore from vibration. Our big profanities, sourced from tiny lungs seemed to ricochet off the valleys around us.