Some of the most reliable ways of finding peace in our wretchedly noise-polluted world come through connecting with the wild spirit of places - with past denizens of ancient chalk downland, hearing the larks chirping overhead; by yomping through forests and glimpses of passing deer, in listening to the wind in the trees in wild woods, and by inhaling the varied aroma of felled timber. I find it, too, in the scent of new mown grass, the calming company of cattle grazing lush pasture, in the shaggy companionship of nice dogs, in the cool interior of medieval churches, or in the Sunday ritual of baking fresh eggs for breakfast.