path, although even in the heart of a city there's usually a green space where one can quietly go within. Last year in California I camped out with homeless war veterans, and David, a 53-year-old cancer survivor with a wonderfully probing mind and a love of the outdoors, became a prized friend. 'We have a church on every corner but we're pretty Godless,' he tells me, explaining that his place of worship is in the great outdoors. He has deliberately chosen to escape the confines of a house because he believes the structure blocks the healing energies of the Earth. He sees trees, and especially the lofty Californian redwoods, as an antenna between heaven and earth, insisting that outside he is more alive and feels the interconnectedness of all things. Staring i