In 2003 the reality of the climate crisis hit me like an internal bomb. It was a bizarre state to be in when the vast majority of people (of course not all, as many had known about it for decades) had not yet even registered climate change. As I sat in my car, engine running in a jam, I felt I was destroying the planet. As I bought food at a supermarket, I could ‘see’ food riots yet to come. As I walked in the countryside that warm autumn, I was aware that the ‘normal’ of my childhood in the 1960s had drastically changed. The anxiety was crippling.
As if it were a gift from the universe, I accidentally ...
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