Heading for the hills - taking my three children away from all they know...

chase butterflies and tries to catch them. Oh dear this is NOT what I wanted from my trusty companion and fellow explorer. Mr McGregor keeps asking me what her purpose is. A mysterious question as 'furry companion and love bucket' is role enough for me. But apparently dogs should have a proper job, like retriever, rabbit catcher, guard dog etc. Ive tried to argue that she might like to have a fight with bulls-come-rodents with her staffie/patterdale roots. But this doesnt impress him. I fear butterfly chasing really isnt a useful job, and i now see that her ears look like two brown butterflies. So this might be her calling. Wonder if I can train her to use a net and carry an ID book?

Until now Meadow Browns and Ringlets flit and flop their way amongst the tall grass but today the purple heads of Knapweed played host to some jewels. How thrilling...my meadow is really coming to life. Cinnabar moth, 5 spot I think but I need to examine carefully. A Large skipper and the beautiful Marbled white. u

Today I found a patch of an elegant tall plant with bright yellow simple 5 petalled flowers that I felt I vagiely knew but couldn't name. So I got identifying and it was St John's wort. A plant of many talents...it has antidepressant benefits as a herbal remedy and apparently if hung above your door will ward off evil spirits. That is very useful and although I didn't pick it straight away and put it in a noose above the door I may still (--- depending how alone, haunted and peculiar I become.) But my botany highlight of the day was finding a smaller more delicate patch of what I presumed was also St John's wort in the woodland. Once I got my lovely pictorial guide out and hand-lens I discovered the beauty in the detail. St John's wort has fine black stripes on the underside of the yellow petals and two distinct edges to the stalks but my woodland specimen lacked both but had small hairs on the stalk. Hairy St John's wort came to light.

My daily walk into our slice of woodland has been barred by the eager and  rather angry combination of bramble, nettles and bracken.  It feels as though they have a point to prove.  They really don’t want me there and say it with spikes, stings and then a wet slap from the bracken.  The thing is as a human I have an easy defense mechanism up my sleeve, in this case the long nosed long handled cutter.  I went armed with Queenie at my heals.  I cut my way through to reveal the old path.  Hot scratchy work but when work leaves lacerations and red lumps on your arms you feel you have something to show for it. Bracken is 7 foot high - you are dwarfed and smothered by it Can you spot my path... Today I went to review my path making and allowed myself to look at life through the eyes of the rampant summer opportunists.   The warmer weather, bursts of rain and much sun encouraged them to have their moment and grow and grow a bit more, shading out the sl...

In the winter days when I was feeling particularly alienated by the quiet countryside I picked up a spade and dug.  It was those dark days of February and March.  My dearest Uncle Ed’s favorite time of year, he enjoyed it stillness and the silhouettes of dark trees against pale skies.  I found it challenging not knowing how to navigate my feelings with little to distract but the heavy soil and sharp spade helped. Firstly, I planted a new strip of native hedge, staggering the saplings 30 cm apart.   I spent a long time pondering where I should place the hawthorn, blackthorn, hornbeam, hazel and then few plants of sweet chestnut and dogwood.   I did a mixture of clustering and scattering.   The hedge will add blossom and pollen and hopefully gap up an area between the two meadows.   I have since spent many hours there with Queenie watering to ensure they settle and root. Uninspiring photo of my new piece of hedge... Then my second planting project wa...

With the help of Queenie I have created a thinking path.  Or rather a route up the meadows to the top and then back through the wood.  It only takes 15 minutes but I look intently at what life is emerging and then thoughts bubble up. Clear March day Firstly I would just miss my friends and the fact that the path didnt lead to a coffee shop. And feel a sense of painful emptiness but slowly this changed.  My walk turned into noticing the noise of nature and the excitement of new plants appearing and bursting into flower.  But every day is different and every day allows my mind to fizz, ideas to burst and a better path to arise in front of me. June and now in flower and full of interesting plants Darwin had a thinking path in his home Down House and I have walked it.  What's more I was extremely lucky to curate an exhibition at the British Library for the 150th anniversary of the publication of On the Origin of Species. I had creative rein and used the thinking pa...