In passing, he observes a fungus consuming a juniper, its fiery horns presenting themselves for comment, offering themselves up as biblical – as “Pentecostal flame”. Their blighted beauty ties in with his father’s cancer. Grief is here the engine that drives perception. At every point, what Hewitt sees is rinsed through by what he feels. He grafts the people and circumstances of his life on to nature with unerring brilliance and yet is, at the same time, mindful that he may be finding symbols only because he needs to find them. He acknowledges the possibility of artistic opportunism and then writes his way convincingly past it.