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I am left feeling unnerved by the sudden presence of a bird wreathed in superstition and legend at my kitchen window.
These are not eye-catching creatures. Field guides often describe them as “undistinguished”. But, in this unfamiliar and far from reassuring world, discovering a flycatcher in my garden has brought me great delight.
An exotic, acquisitive bird-watching trip on the other side of the world already feels like an artefact of another age. Now the creatures in my garden are helping me to think about the nature of community.
The humble berry can bring festive magic – and rare winter visitors.
What I’m witnessing is the nuptial flight of a species called Lasius niger, the common black ant
Author and naturalist Helen Macdonald reflects on creating homes for nesting birds, and the joy she gets in return
A winter wood reveals the bones of the landscape it grows upon, the geographical contours of slopes, gullies and hollows.
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.