I looked down at my hands, shielded in red mittens, and flexed my fingers. They were badly blistered from frostnip, and I winced. It was early March and, despite the azure sky above, it was a bone-chi

In 1961, a four-hectare field on the southern edge of an ancient woodland called Monks Wood in Cambridgeshire produced its last crop of barley. Having originally been cleared of trees during the Roman

Post-pandemic, Adam Weymouth retraced on foot the 1000-mile migration of a lone wolf across Europe, learning about our changing relationship to wildness, farming and migration itself along the way. Adam shares the prologue to this fascinating journey, alongside an introduction written especially for The Great Outdoors

What the scientists are saying… Falling puffin numbers ...

I t’s 2am and Grandpa Boofhead is feeling frisky, his bellows echoing through the moonlit eucalyptus trees around my house in the Adelaide Hills, South Australia. It’s early spring, the breeding seaso

Whether winter-faded ferns, the spindly harvestman or the tyrannical stare of an irate chicken, through-lines from the prehistoric to our modern age are all around us in November, says John Lewis-Stempel