I’m lying in bed with the curtains open, watching the day break. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but the dawn light is enough to fill the yurt. The black kitten, Millie, loves sitting on the big down filled cushion looking at the world outside the window. She’s not been allowed out there yet, too young to navigate the dangers and make her way back to safety when she needs. A whole different world a few millimetres away.

The story behind this image brought up so many questions for me on travel, ethics, and power.

Where shallow wavelets over peeking rocks make rippling echoes of glittering chaos

I’m standing on St David’s head, a granite outcrop that meets the wild Atlantic on a Pembrokeshire peninsular…I walked out here in that temporary world between dusk and night and maybe it’s the darkness falling but I sense that I am not alone.

The old man sits upright in the hammock as it gently sways side to side in the dark, warm evening. A flaming torch half bathes him in fire light. A Storyman decorated with teeth, perhaps to make up for the lack of his own.

A quiet cafe with quiet country-folk playing, quiet air fills the room.

It was a beautiful blue dusk. Beyond the plains the mountains rose two kilometres in to the sky, into the clouds that delicately clung to the steep, green slopes. This is Colombia, one of the most biodiverse countries on earth and we rode by horseback through the fading evening light.