It is interesting to contemplate an entangled bank, clothed with many plants of many kinds, with birds singing on the bushes, with various insects flitting about, and with worms crawling through the damp earth, and to reflect that these elaborately constructed forms, so different from each other, and dependent on each other in so complex a manner, have all been produced by laws acting around us.
I'm really not bothered what happens to my mortal remains once I go, but I've made it known to my partner, Jen, that the final paragraph of On the Origin of Species would not be at all out of place, were she to arrange any sort of ‘do’ to see me off. Assuming I go first, that is.
A few years ago, some book reviewer in the Times had the temerity to suggest that Charles Darwin's famous tangled bank passage ‘certainly owes its origin to his impressions of tropical forests’. As I said at the time, bollocks to that! (I paraphrase.)
Who needs tropical forests, when there are tangled banks like this to inspire you?