Not the catchiest of titles, but Nilsson couldn’t have been more precise in positioning her intent for this album. The flautist improvised at the co-ordinates of the title and from that spontaneous music, developed this ten piece suite. Nilsson reflects on man’s relationship with the natural world, and to illustrate her point, she’s even built a field atlas so that we can locate ourselves in the music’s sources.

Nilsson often lends her music to ecological campaigns (she’s performed at Extinction Rebellion festivals) and it’s hard not to be moved by her commitment. Curiously though, most of these songs feel at home in the artificial and hardly earthy ambience of euro-centric chamber jazz.

As such they are gentle, melodic, often and appropriately imbued with a sense of loss. Cowherd adds a chordal richness that keeps Nilsson’s meanderings from evaporating entirely while Morrissey lends a solid if unspectacular low-end.

Compared to Kate Westbrook’s Earth Felt the Wound, which is equally planted four-square in the ground, this is flimsy whimsy but not without its moments of mixed melancholia and celebration.