The field they landed in was a large one, used for grazing cattle. It was long and as green as the Amazon. They bumped painfully, rose, and thumped down again. The cows bellowed in terror and scattered. The front wheels shook; the back wheel bucked. There was a moment where it felt as if they would flip wing over tip, but the plane shuddered,

‘You are right to be afraid. Be brave anyway.’

‘It would be a good idea to open your eyes,’ said the explorer. ‘It makes piloting easier.’ Fred opened his eyes. They were in the sky. ‘How did you know they were closed?’ ‘Mine were, when I first launched a plane,’

Look after the things you love, or else you don’t deserve to love anything,’

‘You don’t have to be in a jungle to be an explorer,’ he said. ‘Every human on this earth is an explorer. Exploring is nothing more than the paying of attention, writ large. Attention.

‘Don’t panic,’ whispered Lila. ‘Snakes don’t attack – remember?’ Fred backed away. It came up over the trunk, its neck still a stalk, heading towards him. It didn’t seem to like him staring. ‘I think the snake might not know that,’ whispered Fred.

If it’s too late then there’s no point in fighting.

‘You never split up in unfamiliar territory,’ she said. ‘We’re coming with you.’

‘Open your eyes, Con!’ said Fred. ‘You have to see!’ Con opened her eyes, and then opened them further, as wide as the sky. ‘I didn’t know. It’s … bite-your-fist beautiful.’ It looked, Fred thought, like someone had designed it with a purpose in mind: someone who wanted the world to be as wild and green and alive as possible.