I am a veterinarian by profession. After graduating from Bristol University in 1991, I spent years working on free-living and captive wildlife projects across Africa and the Middle East until returning to the UK in 2011. From 2011 to 2014, I ran the aviculture program for breeding raptors at International Wildlife Consultants in Wales. Since 2014, I’ve worked with Origin Vets as an avian and exotic animal vet, consulting for zoos and breeding projects in Wales and beyond, including projects in the Middle East and North Africa.
Alongside my veterinary career, I’ve been on what feels like a never-ending journey to live more sustainably. In 2012, my wife, Theri, and I bought Coidre, a small farm in Pembrokeshire, where we have been slowly renaturing our land back to ecological health. Theri, with her background in environmental education, has taught in schools, colleges, and universities, supported students with additional needs, and even ran the Pembrokeshire Food Bank for several years. She now runs Green Sheep Camping, our eco-campsite, while we are both involved with the Llanteg and Amroth Renaturing Community, a local nature recovery group that we established with a group of neighbours and friends.
I hold a PhD and am a recognized specialist in Zoological Medicine, with over 100 scientific papers on avian and wildlife health. But let’s be honest—how many people actually read niche scientific papers? And more importantly, how many people in power truly listen to what scientists are saying about the state of the environment? Politicians worship at the altar of economics and with few exceptions are ecologically illiterate.
Like most people, I wrestle with the contradictions of modern life. We sigh when we hear Greta Thunberg’s warnings, we cry when we watch David Attenborough’s documentaries, and we tell ourselves we’re doing our bit by sorting the recycling every week—yet we remain part of an industrialised society that is driving ecological collapse.
I am no different. I am a half-hearted environmentalist—struggling with my own hypocrisies and inconsistencies as I try to navigate a life that is kinder to the planet. Through this journal, I hope to share the story of how we ended up on the west coast of Wales, the lessons learned along the way, and why, for all my half-heartedness, a deep connection with nature remains the most important guiding force in my life. Indeed, our family suffered an immense tragedy, and I believe my connection with Nature contributed to my survival and remains vital in my journey of healing. I don’t know the direction of travel that these musings will take. It will evolve and be led by the seasons, observations, memories, and the natural flow of heart and mind.
So to end this introduction I’ll borrow some words from Wendell Berry, American author, poet, farmer, environmentalist and cultural critic whose wisdom on farming and the relationships between food, human communities and Nature feels particularly relevant as I start this journal. Looking for reasons to ‘keep on’ is a good place to start especially at a time when hope seems in short supply for anyone concerned with democracy, decency and the state of the world for all the myriad species that share this planet with people.
“I would like to conclude by confronting directly the issue of hope. My hope is most seriously challenged by the fact of the decline, of loss. The things that I have tried to defend are less numerous and worse off now than when I started, but in this I am only like all other conservationists. All of us have been fighting a battle that on average we are losing and I doubt that there is any use in reviewing the statistical proofs. The point – the only interesting point – is that we have not quit. Ours is not a fight that you can stay in very long if you look on victory as a sign of triumph or on loss as a sign of defeat. We have not quit because we are not hopeless. My own aim is not hopelessness. I’m not looking for reasons to give up. I’m looking for reasons to keep on.”
Literature Cited:
Wendell Berry (2002). The Whole Horse. In: The Art of the Commonplace, The Agrarian Essays of Wendell Berry. Counterpoint Publishing.
