Usually, when I have a week’s autumn holiday on the west coast, I expect rain at some point. Or wind. Probably both. If I get two usable dryish days, then I consider myself lucky. And so, on the first day of November, with high pressure already established over the UK, I was delighted to see a dry forecast for the following week, as we were off to Argyll. The only snag was the forecast did look rather grey, with few sunny breaks. And true enough, on that first day it was gloomy. Dry, yes. But very gloomy. I told my…

On 1st September, little is more likely to cause a social media pile-on than excitedly proclaiming ‘Yay! It’s the first day of autumn! Goodbye summer!!’ Cue legions of annoyed folk ranting and arguing about equinox, equilux, harvest moons and goodness knows what else. Weather bods like to compartmentalise the seasons into three-month batches. Meteorological autumn is therefore September, October and November, and 1st September is its first day. It’s nice and orderly, happens the same time every year, and given that the meteorological autumn offers me the earliest opportunity to put summer to bed and confidently embrace the prospect of…

If you’re fortunate to share your daily life with swallows, as many of us are, you mightn’t necessarily realise just now reassuring a presence they are. They bring constant movement to the air, constant twittering to the sky. They’re a familiar but subtle backdrop to the summer months. And then, just like that, they’re gone. And everything just feels a bit….empty. We’re not quite at that point yet, but with day length shortening, it’s not far off. Swallows and martins Just so we’re clear which bird we’re talking about here, swallows are the lightning-fast ones whizzing about the place with…

After a winter of relative dormancy while much of the natural world slumbers, our senses kick into high gear as the warmer months progress. The explosion of life and activity means there are many amazing sights, sounds and smells for us to take in. But while most species grab our attention via one or perhaps two of those senses, the scots pine manages to tantalise all three. The sight We all know what a splendid sight old scots pines are, with their scaly red bark and sprawling asymmetrical crowns, and we love them for it. Their gnarly, deep green beauty…

There’s a big, dome-shaped mound on my regular walk through the local pine forest. Light brown, it’s seemingly made of soil but, on closer inspection, it’s covered in a thatch of heather, pine needles, moss and dirt. Although its summit stands higher than my waist, it makes for a surprisingly inconspicuous feature because, even a few metres away, it’s well hidden behind the heather that flanks it. You could therefore be forgiven for not really noticing mounds like this, huge as they are. For the past five months, the mound has been still and lifeless. But today is that rarest…

Winter nights are rather quiet affairs, but I’d forgotten just how quiet they were until a familiar sound pierced one of them last week while I was out for a torchlit stroll. Huuuuu……..Huh….Huhuhuhuuuuuu. It sailed through the chill night air, clear and sharp, from somewhere within the dark recesses of a granny pine. I stopped in my tracks and waited for a repeat, which duly came after 10 seconds or so. Huuuuu….. I waited, listening for the familiar response. A short moment later a fainter, more distant sound, high pitched and squawky, called out. Kewick!…….Kewick! Tawny owls. The walls of…

I’ve had my trail camera out at home recently. Now it’s getting colder, I’ve been investigating what creatures are milling about outside the house, in search of warmth or food. Last winter there were various rodents and shrews sneaking under the porch door, so I rather expected to see something similar this time. Maybe a red squirrel foraging nearby. Tawny owls on the fence posts. Or, given they have left conspicuous scat on the road, pine martens. But no. After the first night, I looked through the new videos and they all showed one of two brown hares, nibbling grass…

Have you ever tried to creep up on a cuckoo? I’ve tried repeatedly over the years but it’s nigh on impossible. I suspect even the SAS would struggle. Cuckoos are impossibly flighty, and somehow also evade being precisely pinpointed by your ear. A vague direction can be discerned, but when you think you’re getting close, the call suddenly seems to come from another direction entirely. It could be another cuckoo of course, but more often than not, your target cuckoo has simply taken flight and moved to a new location. You didn’t see it move because….well….what would that even look…