Last year, I had the chance to spend a month volunteering for the Alderney Wildlife Trust, and it was such an enjoyable and enriching experience that I couldn’t wait to come back. (Those who’ve had a taste of life on Alderney will understand me!) A year later, I took some annual leave from my job, packed my backpack, hopped onto a train and two ferries, and here I was, back on my favourite island.

Being able to name a species gives you a special appreciation for it. What you see is not just a yellow flower with long stems, it’s Ragwort, a plant that can be toxic for cattle once dried. It’s not just a light blue butterfly fluttering about, it’s a Holly Blue, not to be confused with a Common Blue. It’s not just a strange-looking bird, it’s an Oystercatcher, with its funny red legs and recognisable call. Once you’re able to identify it, to name it, you’re more easily able to categorise it — it could be a rare species, one that you only see at a specific time of year, one that is threatened by climate change or pollution…

Coming across species you can identify on sight is a unique kind of pleasure; it’s like greeting old friends, each of them rekindling memories. I often remember where I first learnt about a species, who taught that species' name to me, and to whom I passed on that knowledge. Hornbeams remind me of small, green, budding leaves I saw bloom on a Parisian street after a long winter; Cercis trees remind me of my tears as a child when the one from my garden got felled and that I knew the sparrows wouldn't visit us anymore; Red Admirals remind me of summer surveys in the long, dried out grass and the flash of red we could glimpse.

One of the things I love most about Alderney is not only the island itself, with its unique history and biodiversity, but it's also the people I’ve met there, who have been so generous in sharing their knowledge of the wildlife that can be found around the island. They taught me about dozens of terrestrial and marine species. They brought me along on their survey expeditions and taught me about the wildlife of the island. This year, I was also lucky enough to be on Alderney at the same time as a team of external scientists, who came to identify and collect data about different species that can be found on the island. Seeing them rockpooling on the rocky shores of Braye Beach or Longis with the same enthusiasm as children looking for treasures reminded me of the wonder young ones have for nature. Growing up apart from nature was something I always regretted, but I found that there was no better place to grow my knowledge and appreciation of nature than on this small, friendly island off the coast of Normandy. I can safely say that from now on, I won’t be wary of replacing old memories with new ones, but will jump at the opportunity of revisiting places that have become so dear to me, such as Alderney.

Camille François