I remember sitting in a café some years ago and a friend telling me that in Virgil’s ‘Eclogues’, the sound of flowing water is often considered a nuisance. A new book of mine will soon be published by Compost and Height. As much of a nuisance as a bucolic memory that stifles. Walking down a country road with a dog on the one side and a cat on the other, all environment is thus eradicated. A pest.