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Communicating With Nature And Animals: A Gift Rediscovered

From a young age, I have always felt a deep connection with nature and animals. While many children grew up enchanted by Disney films, I found something even more magical, I could hear animals talk.

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Watching Bambi in the cinema with my mum gave me a warm, familiar feeling, not only because I loved the story, but because it wasn’t just fantasy to me. I too, could hear the whispers of the natural world, the silent conversations that existed between humans and animals.


But, as I grew older, this gift faded. Life got louder, and the quiet voices of nature seemed to disappear. Until one day, in the Scottish Highlands, I rediscovered it again.


A Fawn in the Gorse Hedge

It was an early summer morning, the kind where the world is still waking up. I was sitting outside my eco-house in Scotland, sipping my usual morning drink, when I noticed something on the grass nestled next to the gorse hedge…  a tiny fawn.

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I didn’t dare move. I simply watched, mesmerized by this delicate creature, so small and vulnerable. And then, something stirred inside me, the instinct to communicate, the same ability I had as a child but had long forgotten. In my mind, I spoke:


"You are beautiful. What are you doing so far away from your family?"


For a moment, there was silence. Then, a response came, not with words, but with feeling, with understanding.


"I’m resting here because my parents are constantly bickering about not venturing too close to your houses. People are complaining about us eating their fruit and vegetables, so I needed some peace and quiet."


I sat there for nearly an hour, having a silent conversation with the fawn, learning about its world, its struggles, and how it saw humans.


That was the moment I realized something profound:

  • Our homes had been built on land that once belonged to the deer.

  • They weren’t intruding on us, we had taken their space.

  • They were looking for water, and they had a deep love for sugar beet.

  • This simple, quiet encounter changed everything.


Creating a Space for Understanding

The Nature Sanctuary, Findhorn
The Nature Sanctuary, Findhorn

The experience with the fawn gave me an idea, what if I could use this connection to help both humans and animals understand one another? So, for a while, I started a weekly Deer Meditation.


I invited like-minded people to join me in the nature sanctuary, where we would connect with the essence of the deer. We would send out feelings of safety, reassuring them that we were aware of their needs and that they could find peace among us.

 

And then, something incredible happened…


Nearly every resident in the area had experienced their rose bushes being nibbled or their vegetable patches disturbed…  yet, my own garden was left untouched. It was as if the deer knew, they understood that we were listening.


This experience reawakened my ability to communicate with nature, making it easier than ever for me to bring the animals of Fingley World to life.


The Voices of Fingley World

When I write about Dodl, Uncle Augustus Merryweather, Twiggy the squirrel, and all the other Fingley characters, they are more than just words on paper. They are alive. I can hear them clearly in my mind.

Connecting with a lamb, at Daisa's local farm
Connecting with a lamb, at Daisa's local farm

They have personalities, emotions, and their own ways of seeing the world. Because to me, storytelling isn’t about making things up, it’s about listening, observing, and translating the voices of nature into words that others can understand. That little fawn didn’t just remind me of my childhood gift, it brought Fingley World to life in a way I never expected.


Have You Ever Felt Connected to Nature?

Have you ever had a moment where you felt truly in tune with the natural world?

Have you ever sensed an animal’s emotions, even without words?

Do you believe that nature has its own language, waiting for us to hear?

If so, you might already be listening, just like I was.


Sometimes, all it takes is a quiet morning, a watchful heart, and a tiny fawn in a gorse hedge to remind us that we are never truly separate from nature.

 
 
 

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