The history carried in our landscapes

As Paul and I wander along sun-dappled paths through ancient woodland, a multitude of birds singing their hearts out, it’s hard to believe we’re still in Greater London. Wind back a few days…. We had

An old man lives at the bottom of my garden. His name is Robert Barkus, or Bakehouse, or Bagust. Nobody is quite sure. But I often sense him around when I’m gardening, and I’ve found out a fair bit ab

I’m sceptical about news stories you sometimes read of big black cats roaming the countryside. I was, however, tempted to don my boots for a hike I found on the internet titled In the Footsteps of the

T HE MIDDLE OF MAY, A WARM MORNING ...

Plundering a local byway for a spot of festive foraging, John Lewis-Stempel finds all life proliferating in the multitudinous micro-habitat of the winter hedgerow

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