I wanted more narrative, more connections and explanations, but realise that memories don't always work that way. The author is not only an author, naturalist and nature photographer, but also a television presenter.

In his rich, lyrical and emotionally exposing memoir, Chris brings to life his childhood in the 70s, from his bedroom bursting with fox skulls, birds' eggs and sweaty jam jars, to his feral adventures. I’m not a fan of overly detailed descriptions if I feel they don’t suit a purpose, and that combined with repetitive segments about his love of animals made this difficult to get through at times. Packham's partner Charlotte Corney owns the Isle of Wight Zoo, and his step-daughter is studying zoology at Liverpool University. His writing is poetic, lyrical and beautiful, even when writing about commonplace events such as an encounter with the local ice-cream man.Some details I wish I wouldn’t have read about either - mainly speaking about ‘triangular bushes’ here. It’s the most powerful, honest account I’ve ever read about how nature can shape a person and how interactions with wildlife can stay with someone for ever. It reads almost like a novel and Packham even refers to himself from the third person and looks at himself through the eyes of other people.

But the creature he most coveted was a kestrel, a real live kestrel, and one day he was to realise that dream. It's also heavily fictionalised with scenes involving dialogue between supporting characters when the author isn't even around.Woven in are accounts of his meetings with a phycologist, where he takes the tentative, painful steps of opening up to a stranger and it is where we learn of his greatest fears and those moments where he has stood at the abyss. He continues to be a part of pioneering natural history television, such as Secrets of our Living Planet, Inside the Animal Mind and Operation Iceberg. An introverted, unusual young boy, isolated by his obsessions and a loner at school, Chris Packham was only at home in the fields and woods around his suburban home.

Both Chris and indeed Mark have done an amazing job (not least in trying to encourage the next generation of conservation champions), as have others and we must all help them however we can as conservation is a broad community and I sense a collective determination that will persevere and deliver a ban. Chris begins his recollections as an introverted, unusual young boy, isolated by his obsessions and a loner at school.

Lastly in other sections we meet him in his early 40's, apparently having counselling following a suicide bid. This unconventional and uncompromising memoir moves back and forth through time, capturing a child's view of the 60s and 70s - the music, the clothes, the cars - alongside recent, more exposing recollections from adulthood.