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

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

Between a Constable resonating with Nature and a Castiglione blaring with turbulence, a picture by Algernon Newton captured the quietude of absolute stillness

Our walks is mon 1 Bruach na Frithe ...

To walk around a midwinter garden on a fine day when everything has shrunk down to its essential elements is like walking around a gallery. You can take your time, see things with fresh eyes and be ch

Can you really commune with angels on this wild Welsh coastal peak? Trail climbs CARN INGLI to find out – and ponders why humans have always seen mountains as stairways to heaven.