We who uphold the philosophy and way of life which is Folk Culture care about Nature in a profound way which most people today would not understand. We care in this profound and spiritual way because we understand or feel that we are part of Nature, that we belong to Nature in a special way. Thus do we know that we, as individuals, are not separate from Nature - for what we do, or do not do, what we think, what we are, affects Nature.

We affect Nature because we are Nature made manifest - we are an expression of Nature's change, Nature's evolution. We who follow the way of Folk Culture revere Nature because we know, understand or feel how Nature exists in us. Nature exists in us through our folk, our ancestors, and through the fatherland, the homeland, where our folk dwells or where it settles. What lives in us, as Nature, is our culture, our folk, our fatherland; in a special way we are the land of our fatherland, as we are our folk - we are part of the organic, living whole which includes our folk, our land, the soil of the land, the trees growing in the soil, the creatures, the animals, the life, which exits in or upon this land. We even are the climate of our land - the sun, the rain, the clouds, the wind, the changing seasons.

Because of this, we do not exist as separate individuals. Our very existence, as individuals, is bound-up with our folk and our fatherland - with our own Blood and Soil. Our folk, our fatherland - Nature herself - depends upon us to keep these things going, to keep them healthy, to nurture them and help them grow further. Thus are we born from our folk and our fatherland, and thus do we when we die return to them.

Sadly, this feeling, this understanding, this reverence for Nature is seldom understood today. The majority of people of even our own folk are seldom part of the land in the sense of knowing it as a friend and valuing it as the means to be healthy and grow. They have no understanding or even sense of husbanding the land - of caring for it in a meaningful ancestral way. Furthermore, this majority is today mostly even unaware of who they are - they have little or no sense of belonging to their own culture, their own Aryan folk. The Aryan majority no longer respects the traditions, the way of life, of their ancestors - or even these ancestors themselves, for this majority has lost its connection with its Aryan past; they have lost, or are destroying, their own heritage as they are most certainly destroying their own people. Thus are they not only endangering Nature, but they are also destroying their own future.

An example will best illustrate what has become of the majority. This example concerns a village in a rural English county; what it once was, and what it is now. Less than a hundred years ago, this village was a small collection of cottages and farms. The farms themselves contained apple and pear orchards, and many fields of various crops. These crops had been found to be suitable to the type of soil in the area, and each year several fields were left "fallow" so that the fertility of the soil could be regained following a harvest. Naturally, given the orchards, the village and the surrounding area produced cider and perry - with every farm making its own. Indeed, cider was the regular and preferred drink in those days when the water itself was often suspect, and before tea drinking became common and affordable. The crops, when harvested, were taken to the nearby town, where there was a thriving market. At this time, most of the villagers worked either on the land itself, or in trades or crafts connected with them. For example, there was a village farrier, and a wheelwright.

There was a sense of identity among the villagers - they were, for the most part, proud to be from the area, and proud of their local ancestry.

Of course, it is easy to idealize such village life. But there was an awareness of and a real sense of belonging. Life, for most of the villagers, was often harsh, sometimes cruel. But there was real character in the people. There was a real, living, community which, despite the hardship - or perhaps because of the hardship - slowly prospered over the centuries. There was a real balance with Nature, with Nature - the seasons, and the soil - for the most part understood and respected, partly because old ways of doing things were carried on, with these old, ancestral ways having been found to be effective.

Today, in this village, this balance, this understanding and this respect for Nature no longer exist, even on the two farms which still remain. The village itself has grown tremendously. Over three score new houses have been built on land once owned by two of the farms. Dozens of trees have gone, and scores of hedges removed, to make way for these new arrivals. One of the other farms is no longer a "working farm" - it is occupied by a "townie" family, and its Barns have been converted into houses, lived in by other "townies" who commute to the nearby city in their cars. The orchards themselves have gone (save for some apple trees in the garden of one of the farms on the edge of the village) as have the fields of crops. Nearly all the fields now grow the regulation wheat, in large fields made by removing boundary hedges so that machines can plant, cultivate and harvest more. And the tragedy is that this wheat often ends up stored in an enormous warehouse where it forms a tiny part of the great and never used European "wheat mountain".

Furthermore, even many of the few farmers who remain have lost their respect for and understanding of Nature, ploughing as they do almost to the hedgerow, spraying the fields as they do with dangerous chemicals, and tearing the heart out of their remaining hedges as they do when they recklessly flail away at the wrong times of year with mechanical flails: stripping the berries and buds off in Autumn and decimating the surviving buds in early Spring. Farming has become a business at worst, and at best an occupation. No longer is the land farmed to provide food for the people who farm, with the excess produce being traded for essential items. No longer is there an understanding of husbanding the soil: of caring for it, treasuring it, for the benefit of future generations.

Nearly all of the new villagers work in the nearby city and the nearby towns. They have little knowledge of, and even less understanding of, Nature and the land around them shielded as they are by their centrally-heated, electric-light houses with its running water and flushing lavatories, and conveyed as they are from place to place by their heated, rain-shielding cars. To such people, the place where they live is really irrelevant, as long as it is convenient. One of the few remaining attractions of the village is its lack of street lighting, on even the new estates of intruding houses. Thus can the beauty of the stars still be seen, at night, as there can still be a feeling of rural isolation in the darkness. But of course, the majority of people find this darkness - this intrusion of Nature - dreadfully "inconvenient" and have petitioned the local Council to install street lighting, which doubtless the unfeeling townie technocrats will, in time. Meanwhile, many of these village residents have installed intrusive high-power "security" lights on their houses, so keen are they to dispel anything which is natural.

In particular, the lives of these people are not connected to Nature: they do not depend on Nature, on the soil, the land, around them. Instead, their living depends on the business, the industry, the commerce, of the towns and cities, with such business, such industry, such commerce being for the most part unnecessary and unnatural, existing only to provide more and more unnecessary luxuries and goods, or existing only to implement abstract political and social policies totally unconnected with the land, and the way and traditions of their ancestors.

To such modern people what matters is not a feeling of ancestral blood, just as such people do not care about or even know, Nature herself. To such people what matters is not being of English blood, but being comfortable and fulfilling their own desires. Such people have no understanding of Blood and Soil: they do not care about their own land and their own folk, as is so evident in their complete indifference to the invasion of their land, their country, and evident in their complete disregard for the continuing destruction of Nature. All they really care about is fulfilling their own selfish desires; they care about "being happy"; they care about their personal comfort and desire to "have a good time". They do not want folk culture and tradition, as they do not understand, never mind uphold, such civilizing concepts as honour. What is the abduction and rape of an English girl by a gang of cowards to such people? What is the loss of one more oak tree to such people? What is the loss of another mile of hedgerow? What is the intruding, polluting noise of vehicles to such people? What is the real darkness of a rural night to such people? What is the destruction of the life-giving soil by chemicals to such people? What is the meaning of the soil, the trees, the clouds, the sun, the seasons to such people?

Such people may want some "local character", some "local history and heritage". But what they want, and what they get, is a lifeless, commercially made "tourist-type" character, and a dead heritage. They no longer aspire to add to their ancestral heritage - even if they did understand it as their own heritage. The blood, the spirit, the history of the English land around them and which they dwell in does not live in such people - for such people could not even contemplate shedding their own blood to defend such a land. They have no deep, spiritual love for it; no unspoken bond with it. It is not part of them and they are not part of it.

It is one of the aims of Folk Culture to return to others the understanding of Nature which is necessary if our folk, our ancestral race, and Nature herself, are to survive and evolve further. This understanding is manifest in folk and in fatherland; in Blood and Soil. It is manifest in the respect and the reverence which we who uphold Folk Culture feel for Nature, and it is evident in the duty each and every folkist has to their own folk and the land where they dwell. This duty is to keep their folk as a distinct group, and enable it to evolve, by marrying only among their own kind and by striving to create a homeland, a fatherland, for their people, a homeland which they treasure and respect and even revere because it is there that they belong and have their being.

Of all those people who today profess a concern for and understanding of Nature, only folkists are really concerned, and really understand - for without an awareness of the importance of folk and fatherland there is no understanding and no genuine concern for Nature and these, her natural and most important, creations.