INSIDE OUT

In my head, I have a collection of favourite wildlife sightings from the past 10 years. If I close my eyes, I can still picture the first time I saw a blackcap; the moment a sparrowhawk dive-bombed a pigeon right in front of me; the first frogspawn of spring. Each of these memories is precious, treasured. And every one of them was created while housebound.

All my life, I’d been outdoorsy. Growing up in South London, I was lucky that my parents took me to dozens of wild spaces near where we lived and further afield. In spring we would visit bluebell woods; in early summer we’d watch sand martins at the wetland centre; and all year long we would explore green spaces and nature reserves together.

But at the age of 17, things began to change. Walks that had seemed easy became a struggle. New places became overwhelming and even car journeys made me tired. For months I ignored it, but eventually illness caught up with me and I became poorly with myalgic encephalomyelitis (ME).

ME is a long-term