I’m snorkelling in the salty soft water of a coral island in the Great Barrier Reef. All morning: sea turtles, an eel, a million fish of all different colours. In the deep water off the edge of the reef a mother humpback whale and her calf. I’m suntanned, soaked through with sea water for days. I dive down, following a giant brain of coral, it’s own microcosmic world of predators and the pursued, of a million years of evolution polished into this moment when I’m flying and the world is sheer beauty. My head spins from holding my breath and I glide upwards. I’m in the middle of a school of tiny blue fish, sparkling like fragments of water, I’m flying through light.