ABSTRACT
Many would say she is a margin-dweller, our Tove: an explorer of tidal pools, perhaps, perched on weathered rock with surf foaming at her feet; or a streetwise fox, prowling backyards where the suburbs meet the forest; or a stubborn cloudlike dandelion, scattering seeds of life on concrete plains. To the city dweller such lifestyles appear irrelevant, annoying, potentially inimical. The imagination of the urban world embraces logical order and enforced civility. Wilderness is to be cherished only at a distance, or behind bars.
