Triggered by the Covid-19 lockdown, the author, a passionate conservationist, finds himself drawing inspiration from goings- on in the small back garden of his terraced suburban house, an outdoor space that he has measured at thirteen paces long by four paces wide. Contemplating what a love of nature really means and implies, the author weaves a narrative of interlinked ideas that are integral to humanity’s positive cohabitation of Earth with the rest of life.
I am a nature lover, an amateur field naturalist, and a conservationist. Also, through a process of elimination – in which art and music have proved too challenging for my hands, organizing things too stressful for my brain, and chaining myself to trees beyond what my stomach can stand – I find myself being a writer.
I live on a large island in the North Atlantic Ocean that an infinitesimal proportion of the Earth's beings call Great Britain.
You can find my further information about me here.
The other day my wife said something rather surprising, and, I felt at the time, accusatory. “There are very few people who care for the environment for its own sake!” Slightly perplexed, I searched for what she meant. And then it came to me. She was referring to ‘shallow ecology,’ the attachment that motivates people to protect something which ultimately (if unknowingly) benefits themselves. So people want to preserve rivers because of water quality; they don’t like pollution as it might harm their children’s breathing. People appreciate landscapes, and as these are almost wholly manmade defending them, from, say, greenbelt development, is most likely rooted in ‘shallow ecology’ as well. I always knew there was a difference between ‘shallow’ and ‘deep ecology,’ but recently came across the distinction through reading Joe Gray’s gem of a book. I coincidentally found myself reading his book during the creation of my own woodland garden, and suddenly discovered my vocation imbued with mission, meaning and hope.
No minor accomplishment, Gray successfully brings to life the arcane and difficult language normally confined to academic discourse, and lightly conveys the importance of this narrative for our lifestyles, homes and gardens, repeatedly returning the discussion to his modest garden situated in the middle of very urban St. Albans. While Thirteen Paces by Four has at its heart a small garden, from here Gray effortlessly transports us around the world, evocatively dipping into memories from his own travels alongside recounting some of the greatest nature writers’ descriptions of vistas and rich habitats that now only reside within book covers. How he contextualises his garden within the history of St. Albans is as fascinating as it is thought provoking, and really should be compulsory reading for everyone growing up in this part of the world. Gray made me realise that I scarcely knew the city and district I call home.
Gray himself is a deep deep ecologist. All of his writing, here and in his fictional work under the nom de plume Dewey Dabbar (https://.www.impudentraven.uk/authors...), and associate editorship of the Ecological Citizen (https://www.ecologicalcitizen.net), expresses reverence of life and for the Earth:
To be clear… affected people should absolutely be entitled to protection from… human-caused harm. However, the bounds of justice must not be constrained to this limited set of interests. To put it another way, non-human nature should be respected and revered because it has its own interests, not because doing so benefits humans.
It is surprising to myself that I am not drawn to nature rewriting per se as I am really not quite sure what purpose it serves. With Gray, I am persuaded: “…part of my motivation for writing a whole book, here, about a tiny parcel of land is that knowing a place deeply, in its unique particularity, is part of reverencing the Earth: it both expresses this love and helps fuel it.”
This is one of the best books I have read for a long time. Gray manages to explain the complex in an easy to understand, enlightening and captivating way. His book will inspire us all to look at our gardens rather differently, and to live our lives very differently. He does not write in a worthy tendentious manner, but rather in a way which illuminates and encourages. I came away from Thirteen Paces by Four meaning to do better, to think of the time I spend in the garden as acts of reverence expressing my gratitude to the living world, and convinced this was one of the best ways I could spend my time.
If ever there were any doubt, having read Gray’s book, I am now a ‘deep ecologist.’
Joe Gray is a kindred spirit. He is one of many of us struggling to find ways to act in a way to counter the ongoing onslaught against the planet, its land waters, flora and fauna. In this book, Gray views everything through his small back English garden, 13 paces long by 4 paces wide.
This book is more philosophical treatise than how to guide as Gray finds many ways to explore and enjoy the wild creatures that visit his garden and celebrate a life well lived in accordance with his beliefs. For those looking for ways to find more with less, perhaps part of the answer is digging deeper in the nature around us.
Not being particular fans of ‘nature writing’ in general, we were slightly dubious about the prospect of reading this book. However, neither of us need have worried! From the outset we were both hooked. Joe’s profound knowledge and deep thinking is imparted in a readable and gently humorous style, whilst his clear affection, passion and concern for the natural world shine through.
In fact, ‘nature writing’ is probably a misnomer. All too often that falls into the trap of seeing nature just as a utilitarian resource for us, to use and abuse, care about or ignore, as we choose. Not so here: embraced in a philosophical package which doesn’t put humans at the centre, which asserts that its protection is of intrinsic value for its own sake, and which doesn’t shy away from humanocentric taboos, such as discussions of overpopulation, makes for us a refreshing change.
We found exploring aspects of ‘eco-psychology’ fascinating. ‘Eco-anxiety’ and ‘topoaversion’ are all states of mind we recognise (although Chris had them squeezed out of his consciousness by a lifetime in professional conservation, only to re-emerge during the liberation of retirement) but were previously unaware had names; having these dark thoughts put into words was cathartic. This is not however a depressing read – in fact it is truly uplifting and makes we two glad that there are people like Joe on the planet. Certainly it makes us want to go further in changing our lifestyle to favour nature, but at the same time it doesn’t, as many authors seem intent on doing, engender feelings of guilt for the realisation that probably we will not do all that we could.
Born during the Covid pandemic, when we all have had to reflect on our physical and philosophical horizons, this book should be a mind-changer for many. And still in the grip of nature, we should use the time we now have to read it and think. By donating all royalties from this, Joe’s first book, to a worthy cause, you will not only be getting a jolly good read, but helping safeguard wildlife. And it contains a very fitting tribute to Trevor James, friend and inspiration to many of us, who passed away recently: in fact, one can almost hear Trevor’s voice uttering one of the many apposite phrases in the book – ‘nothing makes my hackles rise quite like innocent, voiceless victims’. Nature needs those who wear their passion on their sleeves.
Thirteen Paces by Four is a marvelous and delightful book, all the more rare because of its combined intimacies (attending to a back yard garden and those dwelling in it) and zoomings out (exploring the lived implications of ecocentrism).
This is a book about the art of attention as much as anything else. I can think of few books better able to fulfill Arthur Machen's challenge issued a century ago:
He who cannot find wonder, mystery, awe, or a sense of a new world and an undiscovered realm in the places by the Gray's Inn Road will never find those secrets elsewhere. Not in the heart of Africa, nor in the fabled hidden cities of Tibet. 'The matter of our work is everywhere present,' wrote the old Alchemist, and that is the truth. All the wonders lie within a stone's throw of Kings Cross station.
It's clear early on how Joe Gray's writerly voice is sensitive while at the same time fierce in its defense of the more-than-human stakeholders with whom we share (or ought to share) this planet as fellow Earthlings:
A note on 'anthropomorphisms'
To some readers, it may seem that when, for instance, I state that a plant wants something, I am 'anthropomorphizing' nature (i.e., attributing exclusively human characteristics and behaviours to non-humans). But I would (politely) reject this idea. Those traits that many among us like to claim as distinctively human are in fact much more broadly shared. New research and observations continue to reinforce this point. Furthermore, since the English language has evolved to describe the world in human terms, it is thus inadequate for fully expressing the subtle workings of agency and interests across the spectrum of non-human lives. So when, to repeat the above example, I say that a plant wants something, rest assured that the word has not been chosen lazily but instead reflects a conscious desire, working within the limited bounds of today's English, to reflect that the plant has interests.
Thirteen Paces by Four is a wily and illuminating tour of a 21st century back-garden Walden Pond. Whether you're new to environmental literature or a life-long devotee of Thoreau, Muir, Leopold, Dillard, or Abbey, you're very likely to enjoy it and learn much from it.
The author invites readers into his small urban back garden - an area of just thirteen paces by four - or rather, the wild pocket of suburbia that he shares with a wide variety of other living things: this is his earth ethic. Through numerous observations of insect and plant life, many illustrated with his own detailed photographs, he demonstrates the rewards of his approach to wildlife gardening. He then broadens these observations into considering global concerns such as water and food supply.
Joe Gray is clearly an experienced and well informed field naturalist. Through this book he also displays the ability to encourage the reader to think not only about the wildlife with which they share their own spaces but also consider many crucial issues of the increasingly devastating impact of humankind.
In Thirteen Paces by Four, field naturalist Joe Gray has produced a profoundly moving book. With a writing style that is uniquely unassuming, funny and deeply engaging, Joe makes a compelling argument for the importance of loving the natural world and everything in it for its own sake. Using many examples from his own life, not least the joy he derives from his own St Albans garden, Joe shows us what it means to have a deep green view of the world, and how actions on an individual scale can truly affect change. His message is clear: only by rejecting the idea of human superiority and truly sharing our wondrous planet with the rest of nature, will we be able to save it.
I very much liked Thirteen Paces by Four. I've bought two copies, one to have and one to lend. Joe’s excitement with and love for the natural world is infectious – if you allow it to, it’ll change how you look at previously seemingly mundane places and beings.
Joe’s effortless storytelling provides the framework that allows him to express his most interesting and unusual personality, his ecological ethics and a wealth of biological knowledge.
This small book is a treat to read, and I urge everyone to get a copy. You’ll be glad you did.
I loved this book, whilst the author has taken big steps in his thirteen paces by four back garden to look after nature , he also reminds us of the simple small steps that we can take that still make a difference. He makes it a easy with a relaxed writing style with humour so that I was always tempted to pick the book back up and read alittle more each day, something I have not done for a long time.