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Pantone 18-3838 With a sense of playful irony, I suggested they call her Corina Violet, this nameless baby born in a pandemic. A pretty name for a harsh moment. My garden is laced with violets and I spot them lining the path through the woodland that hugs the river on my solitary, daily walk. Issac…

Time for hoverflies My dad used to say: “Time flies, we cannot, as so erratic is their flight.” He might have been quoting someone, but for some reason I never thought to ask. In lockdown, time is far from flying but I have been making time for flies.  Hoverflies to be exact; except it’s hard…

Being More Gilbert Sitting in the deserted garden at The Wakes in Selborne looking out on the Great Mead and Selborne Hanger is one of life’s pleasures.  The great oak, planted in 1729 has recently burst into leaf, the kestrels nest in their customary hole half-way up its trunk. Brimstone, peacock and orange tip butterflies…

Isolation I press my nose against the pane in wonder. Sparrows and starlings squabble over seeds, and a blackbird sings. I can half-hear it, muffled by the barrier between us. My eyes slip down the lawn, past the trees, through the borders, to the back fence, and beyond. And beyond… And beyond the fence… well,…

Lockdown birding at home By April 7th, I had already ‘enjoyed’ two weeks of self-isolation and was starting my second week of ‘ordinary’ Lockdown.  I am fortunate that my garden and the fields I can see from it have most of the bird species of the surrounding habitat.  I have three standard bird feeders hanging…