I rather like, or in fact I like a lot, the idea that my Nature is useless. Every thing has a purpose, fits in with some kind of programme, but my Nature isn’t like any of those things. It is as if I have been given this strange ‘thing’ unlike any other thing, that is totally useless, and yet stunningly beautiful. Endlessly intriguing. My friends say, why do you want that? It’s totally useless. You can’t do anything with it. Why not just throw it away. And I say, but just look at it. It is just itself. And though it is nothing, I swear it’s alive. Sometimes when I look at it, it is shimmering, flashing all kinds of unknown colours. At other times, when I listen closely, I hear it humming the strangest yet most enchanting tune. Yes, that’s it. I’m enchanted, captivated, love-struck even. And unlike all those purpose-driven things around me that are always coming and going, and letting me down in fact, it is always there… or here. Completely reliable. And so I write these words in praise of this utterly useless treasure. What a find!