Imagine a slim bird like a big swift, one as long as your hand from wrist to fingertip, and with huge, black-ink anime eyes.
As a child, I lived in dread of jellyfish. As an adult, my horror turned to wonderment, love and awe.
Since its publication in 1967, The Peregrine has been celebrated as the “gold standard” of nature writing, counting Werner Herzog amongst its devoted fans.
Those boxing hares by the A505 were a glorious sight, but a poignant one.
Hawfinches are legendarily mysterious, secretive and difficult to find, writes the author of H Is for Hawk.
Their destructive power forces you to recall the vulnerabilities of your human frame.
Hope and terror on a winter walk.
The award-winning writer's winter reflection.
A reflection on the summer magic of glow-worms.
Every year, the hedgerows are quieter. The author of H is for Hawk mourns the loss of the spring birds – and issues a warning for the future.
