He fell asleep in my palm. As far as he was concerned, I was his mother

In 2013, my husband, Robin, took a new job in Ghana. We relocated from London, where I worked as a photographer and copywriter, to the capital, Accra. We then moved to the grasslands, where guinea grass swayed 11ft tall. Home was a thatched bungalow beside the Volta River. I had loved nature since childhood, when my dad taught me about birds and animals. I photographed horses professionally and considered the outdoors the place where I felt most alive. So when we arrived on the plains, I felt relief.

Robin worked, but my visa didn’t permit me to, and I was left isolated, homesick and lacking purpose. With few people around our home, I turned to nature. I learned the routines of local birds – the weavers that flew from kapok trees, trailing fronds like streamers, and the pair of violet turacos that went to roost every dusk.

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