While reading on the subject of death on a summer’s day in the garden of a hotel near Sheffield, I found my attention drifting from the page to a long-leafed, red-berried shrub next to me. For a while I considered: ‘What if I knew I was to die tomorrow? How utterly beautiful this plant is. I have no idea what it is called, and I have never paid attention to one before. What a stunning thing. What if I knew I would never see a plant or a red berry again? I would be able to stare at this for hours. God, what a beautiful thing.’
