Two out of the ordinary things happened this morning even before breakfast. Floating in my bedside glass of water was the lifeless carcass of a moth, having evidently drowned some time during the night. Outside on the terrace, equally lifeless, was a strawberry. I don’t grow strawberries, I have none in the house and haven’t had for some considerable time, so exactly how a big juicy red strawberry could end up just laying there on the paving slab a few feet from my door is something of a mystery. Whilst the story of the strawberry is one to ponder, it doesn’t evoke the same sense of injustice as the story…