Trudging through the barren marshland, the day grey-cloud-locked on all sides. An expanse of grass punctuated by water and a strange shape in the distance. Spread out, wings splayed, white plumage still brilliant. I move closer. Are you ill, old, alone? Its orange beak still bright, but the light’s gone. Where are the mourners? The funeral cortege lamenting the loss of one of nature’s finest souls? But it’s just us here. Alone. Laura Allison Laura is a writer inspired by the power of nature to help us explore our inner worlds. She lives in London, UK, and is always seeking connection with the natural world.