I was in Cumbria this week to bid farewell to a beloved friend, the uniquely talented naturalist, conservationist, educator and campaigner Jamie Normington. We met when we were crowdfunding campaigns to supply copies of The Lost Words, the celebration of nature’s disappearing lexicon, to schools in our respective counties.

Jamie would never describe himself as a writer, but he had a unique talent with words: his old Twitter account was one of the literal handful I ever set notifications for. He embraced it as his genre, managing to be idiosyncratic, insightful, sometimes profound and often spit-your-tea funny. Those same qualities made him a superb teacher, mentor, interviewer and compere, most particularly for Cumbria Wildlife Trust and Kendal Mountain Festival, both of which will be immeasurably depleted by his loss.

Jamie’s last words to me were via WhatsApp. A three-word message: “Jinny Greenteeth vibes”, comparing me to a female water demon of northern English folklore. Historically, Jinny (or Jenny) was depicted as a murderously rapacious hag who lured innocent young men to a watery demise. In an attempt to redress the routine demonisation of feminine spirits, I’ve been seeking to rehabilitate her as a fearsome but not necessarily malign guardian of our abused rivers. We commissioned a badass verdigris mask, which was first worn by my friend Helen Mahoney, a local arts promoter – who, as brutal coincidence would have it, was taken by the same hateful disease as Jamie last year.

Two days before Jamie’s funeral – a beautiful woodland burial – I swam in my home river, the Yorkshire Derwent. The surface was twitching with thousands of dying mayflies trapped in a floating fog of fluffy willow seeds. Lives ending, lives beginning. I climbed out with them clinging to my skin and snagged in my hair. Jinny Greenteeth vibesindeed.

I laughed, then cried, because this spring has provided such a potent counterpoint to personal and global turmoil. It’s been a hell of a show: epic blossom, intense birdsong, more swarming insects than I’ve seen for years, and now this mass emergence of mayflies, icons of carpe diem, a spirit that Jamie personified. A message from the river and those who’ve crossed too soon. It’s over so fast. Make sure you live it.