Bird Watch | House Martins

House Martins start leaving for warmer climes in late August so now’s a great time to spot and appreciate them.

Look for: A bluey-black head and back and white undercarriage, a white rump that ends in a forked tail and a short, black beak.

Spot them: Darting in and out of their mud nests, which they build in the eaves of buildings. They’re seen all over the UK, other than in the north and west of Scotland, especially in buildings close to woodlands or water, where they can find insects to eat easily.

Listen for: A high-pitched trill, similar to a sparrow.

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Eye Spy | In a Rockpool

All over the UK, rockpools allow you a miniature glimpse of life beneath the sea but which of the following rockpool inhabitants will you spot this summer? Tick them off as you go!

Common Starfish

Five orange arms with lighter coloured short ‘spines’. Usually around 10-30cm in size

Shore Crab

Look for a greenish shell about 9cm across with five spikes on each side of the eye

Mermaid’s purse

The egg cases of sharks, rays and skates. Very dark brown in colour and up to 21cm long, with distinctive ‘horns’ on the end

Limpet

A grey cone-shaped shell with ridges running down the sides from the top. Grows to up to 6cm diameter

Gutweed

Green hair-like fronds of seaweed. Very common in rockpools

Common Blenny

A small, brown fish with dark patches and fins on its side. Grows to around 16cm

Beadlet Anemone

Look for small round red blobs with dozens of ‘tentacles’ growing out of it. Their tentacles retract when they are not in water

Hermit Crab

Small, soft brown crab who squat in empty spiral shells

Common periwinkle

Another conical shell with spiralling ridges. Usually brown but also grey, black or even red. Up to 5cm in size

Bladderwrack

A browny greeny seaweed with a rib running down the middle of each piece and round air bladders which help it float and photosynthesise

If you need a little help with your rockpool identification, the Marine Conservation Society has a very useful rock pooling guide with videos. 

Feeling inspired by the idea of watching sea life close up? You might enjoy our ‘Outing’ feature this month, which is all about the underwater creatures and eco systems you can explore just off the beach. We also have a ‘Magical Creatures’ guide to the Starfish. Both are in our August issue, on sale now. Buy this month's The Simple Things - buy, download or subscribe

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Nature Studies | Butterflies vs Moths

Butterflies are poster children among insects. In contrast, moths are routinely vilified. Yet moths and butterflies are essentially the same

• All are scale-winged creatures in the order Lepidoptera, more closely related to one another than falcons are to hawks. Evolutionarily, the six butterfly families nestle within 120-ish moth families.

• In the 18th century, they were generally all known as ‘flies’. The word ‘butterfly’ supposedly came about because one springflying species (the Brimstone) was referred to as the “buttercoloured fly.”

• The six families that became known as the butterflies all have a couple of major characteristics in common: they fly exclusively (or nearly so) by day, and have bulbous tips to their antennae (which only a few moths do).

• However, supposedly consistent differences disintegrate under cross-examination. In fact, we have four times more day-flying moth species than butterflies, for example.

• Linguistically, English is an outlier in differentiating between moths and butterflies. French, German and Dutch refer to butterflies and night-butterflies.

If you’d like to learn more about butterflies, in our July issue, our regular feature, ‘Know A Thing Or Two’ looks at butterflies. Buy this month's The Simple Things - buy, download or subscribe

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Birdwatch | The Swift

The fastest bird in flight in the UK, you’ll need to look up to spot swifts as they live life on the wing, even sleeping in flight, and only coming to rest during nesting.

Look for: Black silhouettes (but actually dark brown feathers), with a forked tail and long wings coming to a point. If you can get close enough you might make out a pale patch at the throat.

Spot them: In towns and villages, as they nest in the eaves of buildings. Dusk is a good time as they flit about, chasing insects.

Listen for: Something described as a ‘scream’ but really a high, one-note whistle, and ‘screaming parties’ in the evening when they get together for a big shout out.

Join us in The Simple Things bird hide every month on our Almanac pages, where we have lots more seasonal things to note and notice, plan and do. Buy this month's The Simple Things - buy, download or subscribe

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Birdwatch | The Turtle Dove

Best known for the two Turtle Doves that ‘my true love gave to me’, you’d actually be lucky to see a Turtle Dove at Christmas (or you would be in South Africa).

Look for: A small pigeon, a little bigger than a blackbird with a grey head, pink chest, orange and brown back and three white bands on its neck.

Spot them: Mainly in the south and east of England in woods and parks. You should feel privileged if you do see one; turtle doves are the UK’s fastest-declining bird, teetering on extinction.

Listen for: A purring ‘turr turr turr’ sound (hence the moniker). Very different from the collared dove’s coo

Join us in our Simple Things bird hide every month on our Almanac pages, where you’re also find seasonal things to note and notice, plan and do. Buy this month's The Simple Things - buy, download or subscribe

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Birdwatch | The Skylark

Known for their spring song as they soar high into the sky, skylarks just say ‘spring’ and have captivated many a poet, from William Wordsworth to Ted Hughes

Look for: A small, light brown bird, streaked with darker brown and a dark brown tail with a white side tail and white undercarriage. They also have a crest that stands up when they are excited.

Spot them: In open fields and grassland, and nesting on the ground between April and August.

Listen for: A fast, chirruping ‘Preet, preet, preet’ sound. Skylarks are also excellent mimics so you may hear them making a noise reminiscent of other farmland birds and waders.

We visit the Simple Things bird hide each month on our Almanac pages, where we also have lots more seasonal things to note and notice, plan and do. Buy this month's The Simple Things - buy, download or subscribe

Birdwatch | The Cuckoo

Cuckoos return from South Africa this month. Officially 14 April, St Tiburtius’ Day, is when you first hear cuckoo song. Traditionally, one writes to The Times on hearing the first cuckoo of spring, but you could write to us instead.

Look for: A grey head and bright yellow ring around the eye, dark grey plumage on top and barred feathers below, a little like a sparrow hawk. Some of the females are brown.

Spot them: Around the edges of woodlands and grasslands.

Listen for: Only the males ‘cuckoo’ – and you know what that sounds like. Females make a sort of bubbling sound.

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Birdwatch | Treecreepers

Treecreepers live in the UK all year round, but they’re hard to spot so many people mistakenly consider them to be rare.

Look for: A brown, speckled back and a white undercarriage, as well as a distinctive long, curved beak for winkling insects out of the bark of trees.

Spot them: Distinctively climbing upwards on the trunks of trees, in woodland all over the UK. You’ll need to look carefully, though, as they’re well camouflaged.

Listen for: A trilling, high-pitched ‘see-see-see-see’ sound

Look out for Birdwatch every month on our Almanac pages, which are full of seasonal things to see, do, note and notice.

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Birdwatch | The Mistle Thrush

Illustration: Christina Carpenter

This month, in the Simple Things bird hide, we look at the mistle thrush…

Mistle thrushes are one of the first birds to begin to sing and build nests, some even start this month

Look for: Tiny brown ‘chevrons’ on their chests, white sides to the tail and a greyish hue on their back, rather than the warmer brown sported by a song thrush.

Spot them: All over the UK, other than the northern and western isles of Scotland, foraging at ground level and singing high in tree tops.

Listen for: A song a little like a blackbird, sung in a minor key, which stops and starts. Their ‘call’ is more aggressive and raspy, like an old-fashioned football rattle.

Birdwatch appears every month on our Almanac pages. Find more seasonal things to note and notice, plan and do in the Almanac each month. Buy this month's The Simple Things - buy, download or subscribe

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Birdwatch | The Bullfinch

Beautiful bullfinches are easy to spot in bare January trees

Look for: White rumps, black wing markings and pinky-red breasts and cheeks – like they’re blushing (the males are the brighter ones; the females a little more of a grey-pink).

Spot them in: UK gardens, hedgerows and woodlands.

Listen for: A call that’s a sort of low-pitched whistling ‘peu’ sound.

Birdwatch is a new series on our ‘Almanac’ pages. Find more seasonal things to note and notice and things to plan and do each month on our Almanac.

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Science lesson | How frost is made

Waking to a sprinkling of frost on the lawn, leaves and cobwebs is a little bit magical, but how does frost actually happen?

It’s all about the ‘dew point’. The dew point is the temperature at which water vapour in the air is so cold it turns from gas to liquid and appears in droplets on grass, plants, cars etc. When objects outdoors become colder than the dewpoint, that water vapour which has turned to dew freezes, forming tiny ice crystals. Because cool air sinks, frosts happen more commonly in low-lying areas, such as valleys, and frosts tend to happen overnight because the air is cooler then.

It’s a little more complicated than that though. And, for the frost curious, here are the various ‘types’ of frost:

Hoarfrost (or radiation frost)
Forming on outdoor objects and on the ground outside, hoarfrost is made up of tiny ice crystals, created when dew freezes.

Window frost
Less common in these days of double glazing, window frost occurs when there is cold air on one side of the glass and moist air indoors. Brrrr!

Advection frost
This sort of frost is formed from small ‘spikes’ of ice rather than crystals and tends to happen when the wind blows over tree branches, rooves and telegraph wires, freezing water vapour on those objects as it gusts. 

Rime
Yes, as in ‘of the Ancient Mariner’. Rime often forms on ships or other objects near the sea. Rime occurs in very cold, very wet locations and it forms very fast. It’s much more dramatic-looking than other types of frost and can often make an object appear to be made from solid ice. 

Join us on a winter walk where we appreciate frost and much more in our January issue. Our Outing feature, Sights, Drama, Action begins on page 76.

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Generation green | Dara McAnulty

No matter your age, we all benefit from immersing ourselves in the wild. In our October issue, we meet four young naturalists, who also have an idea or two to impart about what everyone can do to help protect it.

Dara McAnulty is a 17-year-old autistic naturalist, conservationist and activist. He spent three years blogging before his first book, Diary of a Young Naturalist (Ebury Press) won the Wainwright Prize for Nature Writing. This edited extract is taken from the paperback edition, out now.

I have the heart of a naturalist, the head of a would-be scientist, and bones of someone who is already wearied by the apathy and destruction wielded against the natural world. Mum used to call me lon dubh (which is Irish for blackbird) when I was a baby. I was born in spring, and my first mornings were accompanied by the sonata of the male blackbird, nourishing a growing body and mind. Maybe its song was the first lure to the wild. 

I started to write in a very plain bungalow surrounded by families who kept their children behind closed doors, where our garden (unlike any other in the cul-de-sac) became a meadow during the spring and summer months, with wildflowers and insects. Our family spent hours and hours observing the abundance that other gardens lacked. I think we’re all better off bringing nature inside and taking ourselves out. 

We’ve lived in many places during my short life, but wherever we settle, our home is crammed with books, skulls, feathers, politics, unbridled debates, tears, laughter and joy. Not only is our family bound together by blood, we are all autistic, all except Dad – he’s the odd one out, and he’s also the one we rely on to deconstruct the mysteries of not just the natural world (he’s a conservation scientist) but the human one too. A teacher once told my parents ‘Your son will never string a paragraph together.’ Yet here we are. My voice is bubbling up, volcano-like.  

When we (by ‘we’ I mean autistics) get interested in something, most people would call it an ‘obsession’. It really is not an obsession, though. It’s not dangerous, quite the opposite. It’s liberating and essential to the workings of my brain. It calms and soothes: gathering information, finding patterns, sequencing and sorting out is a muscle I must flex. I prefer the word passion.  

I can’t just love the natural world. I have to raise my voice even louder to help it. It’s my duty, the duty of all of us, to support and protect nature. Caring for nature and for ourselves can happen anywhere and everywhere: gardens filled with life, nature reserves, resting spots, feeding spaces, nourishing places. Focusing in on the activity and behaviours of wildlife in our garden is so satisfying, for the mind, for the heart. Homework doesn’t feel like a chore after time spent quietly feeling rain and watching birds. There is nothing better than tending to this connection between all living things. 

Learn | Forest School for Grown-ups

Because why should children have all the nice things?

If you have children in your life, you’ve probably heard about Forest School, a method of education that’s been popular now for a good couple of decades, in which young people spend time out in the woods, learning about nature, but also simply enjoying the outdoors and building on other skills like teamwork, resilience and creativity. It all sounds a long way off the fusty classrooms we remember, but they do say education is a lifelong process so there’s no reason not to have a go now. 

In our September issue, we met Estelle St John-Smith, a charcoal maker. Her work out in the woods sounded like so much fun, we were inspired to look into a few other ways one might enjoy the forest as adults. If you’re feeling rather cheated you missed out on forest school, perhaps you could try one of the ideas below? Some you can do alone with no equipment or skills at all, others you might need to buy a book or a tool for, then there are more for which you might need to join a group or society. There’s something for everyone, whether you’re dipping your toe into the forest for the first time or fancy going full-on Green Man. 

Forest bathing

There are lots of courses you can take in Forest Bathing (also known as shinrin-yoku), but it’s something you can just as easily do alone or with a friend. Just head to a forest, turn off your phone, and wander through the trees, noticing your surroundings with all your senses and breathing deeply. The National Trust has more information about where and how to forest bathe

Whittling

Once the domain only of Cub Scouts and shiny new pen knives, whittling has had a bit of a renaissance. All you need is a pocket knife, a twig and a bit of time to yourself outdoors. We like Chris Lubkeman’s The Little Book of Whittling for easy projects you can get started on right away.

Tracking animals

Get a little bit Bear Grylls (or just sound impressive as you nonchalantly say “there’s been badgers through here” while on a walk with some friends). It’s fascinating to learn just a little bit about the animals you share a woodland with. The RSPB has a handy guide to animal footprints on its website.

Slacklining

Improve your balance and feel rather acrobatic by having a go at slacklining. It’s like a highwire, but tied very low, between two trees. You can buy slacklines in most outdoor and adventure type shops. Slackline.co.uk has a list of slackline clubs across the country if you’d rather try it in a group. 

Cooking on an open fire

Any child who has been to forest school will tell you that the best part is the marshmallows on sticks at the end, but there are loads of things you can cook on an open fire (just make sure you put it out safely and are only building a fire in areas where it is permitted). The Simple Things’ blog has lots of ideas for recipes to cook outdoors on a fire. Try our Frying Pan Calzone to get you started.

Join a woodland working party

If you’d like to make a real difference at the same time as having fun, you could think about volunteering. Organisations such as the Woodland Trust have openings for adults to get involved in looking after woodlands local to them but you may well find your local common, national park or National Trust property offers something similar. You might learn anything from hedge-laying to charcoal making to general woodland management skills, all while meeting like minded people. 

And what’s the first rule of Grown-up Forest School? (No, it’s not that you do not talk about Forest School, you at the back there.) It’s that no one can tell you when it’s time to go back indoors. Hurrah to that. 

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Folklore | Hag stones

The weird and wonderful stories behind stones with holes in

There’s all kinds of treasure to be found at the seaside, from pretty shells and mermaids’ purses, to sea glass and pebbles. But there’s a particular joy in finding a stone with a hole in and holding it up to spy the sea through. 

Hag stones, as they are properly called, have been enchanting the folk of Britain for centuries, often literally. They’ve often been believed to have magical properties and to be able to mysteriously ward off witches and other ne’er-do-wells. 

It’s all in the hole, you see. The theory goes that only good things can pass through a hole, so while good fortune and good wishes will find you through a hag stone, bad luck and evil thoughts are too big to be able to pass through the hole and become stuck in the middle. This belief may be bolstered by the centuries old belief that magic cannot work on moving water. So, since the hole in a hag stone was created by moving water, it works as a sort of ‘shield’ against spells and the like. 

If you visit the coast soon, keep your eye out for a hag stone of your own.* And when you’ve found one, take it home as protection. Here are a few uses for the hag stone in your life. 

• Hang it above your front door or over a window to keep evil spirits out. 

• If you’re a sailor, tie one with rope to your ship to prevent witches clinging to your vessel, and to swing in the wind to help break up storm clouds. 

• Wear it around your neck on a string to ensure good health and to heal any minor ills. 

• Nail one above the door of your barn to stop witches souring your herd’s milk or taking your horses for a gallop in the night. 

• Attach a hag stone to your bedpost to keep bad dreams away. 

• Tie one to your keys so they will never be lost again. 

• Use them to help you conceive a baby. (We’re not quite clear on exactly how this is done. Perhaps just have one about your person…)

• Enter Fairyland through it (apparently the hole is a portal). Again, we’re unsure about how to do this, but it can’t hurt to just have a peer at Fairyland through the hole. 

*Only ever take one at a time though, and only for yourself. The stones are said to find you; you don’t find the stones. And they only work for the person they found. Plus, you’re not really meant to remove things from Britain’s beaches, but we think the very occasional hag stone is probably ok. 

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Magic | Willows

What’s that whispering in the breeze? Could it be elves? 

There’s something rather magical about a willow and the way they’ve insinuated themselves into cultures across the globe, waving breezily on the banks of the river in Kenneth Grahame’s stories of the riverbank one moment, and standing beautiful and blue on Willow Pattern plates the next.  

Go as far back as ancient Greece and you’ll know that Orpheus was said to have gained his gifts for music and poetry by touching the willow trees in a grove sacred to Persephone. Shakespeare featured willows frequently, too, though by then they were getting rather a bad press, with Viola begging an unrequited love to “make me a willow cabin at your gate”, Ophelia falling to her death from a broken willow branch, and Desdemona having her death foretold by a song about the trees. Shakespeare’s heroines don’t have a great experience with willows, all told.  

In Japan ghosts are said to dwell where willows grow, while in British folklore willows are believed to be capable of uprooting themselves and stalking travellers.  

But despite this, the trees have also been strong symbols of good fortune and positive magic.  

European folklore told that the sound a weeping willow makes in the breeze is the sound of elves whispering. Perhaps they were begging the wood to reveal the secrets of those who have told their innermost thoughts to a willow, to have them bound safe forever in its wood, as the story goes. As any Harry Potter aficionado will tell you, willow makes for the most magical of wands (and the strongest of broomsticks - well, if it’s good enough for cricket bats…) 

Meanwhile, Native Americans tied willow branches to their boats in order to protect them in a storm.  And if all that is not protection enough for you, folklore tells that if you knock on the trunk of a willow it will disappear your bad luck for you, which is where the superstition of knocking on wood was born.  

Superstition aside, willow bark has been used for thousands of years both as a pain killer and an anti-inflammatory. The Native Americans sometimes referred to it as the Toothache Tree. They were likely onto something there, as willow bark contains salicin, a natural form of aspirin. Magic indeed, when your wisdom teeth are giving you trouble and knocking on wood has done you no good.  

In our March issue, we meet some real people who perform magic with willows; the mother-daughter team at Willow With Roots willowwithroots.co.uk/, who weave their homegrown willow into everything from lampshades and magic wands to sculptures and garden hideaways. Now, if they’d like to make us a willow cabin at anyone’s gate, we’d probably be happy to forget all about unrequited love. Read more on page 60. 

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Nature | Seaweed Weather Forecasting

When there’s little else to forage, seaweed is still plentiful. But as well as being good to eat, did you know it can also act as your very own Wincey Willis? 

Hang some seaweed outside and if it feels dry to the touch the weather should be fine, whereas if it feels damp rain be on its way. It’s not a completely failsafe forecast, being based only on the fact that if there’s moisture in the air it may indicate rain soon to come. If it’s VERY wet, it may simply be that it’s actually raining already. But it’s a bit of fun. 

Here are a few more ways you can tell the weather without switching on the radio or TV.

• Have a look at the dandelions. If they’re closed it will be clouding over. 

• See if you can spot any bees. They don’t tend to leave the hive when rain is on the way. 

• Notice what leaves are doing. Those with soft stems will go a little limp when there’s stormy or blustery weather on the way to allow wind to blow them about without snapping them.

• Arrange a very elaborate picnic. Around 20 seconds after you’ve spread the blanket on the ground, it will almost certainly begin to rain.

Discover more about seaweed, how to forage it and eat it in our January issue with our feature A Winter’s Tale. It starts on page 36.

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Make | A Pumpkin Bird Feeder

Make pumpkins less scary and more carey for a variety of garden birds

As well as being delicious to eat at this time of year, pumpkins provide the basis for some simple crafts, too. In our October issue, we have a few fabulous ideas for things to do with pumpkins (other than carve them into scary faces). There are lots more ideas here on our website too. Pumpkin beer keg, anyone?

In the meantime, get started with this really easy-to-pull-off make.

You will need:

Small pumpkin or squash (we used a ‘Red Onion’ squash)
Knife, a spoon and a skewer
2 twigs, each about 12–15cm long
Twine, about 1.5m
Drawing pin
Bird seed

1 Halve the pumpkin horizontally and scoop out the seeds, leaving 2cm of flesh intact.

2 Using a skewer, make two holes, opposite each other and large enough to securely hold the twigs. Stick a twig into each hole.

3 Cut the twine in half. Holding the two pieces together, tie a knot in the centre. You should now have four lengths of twine, joined by a knot.

4 Turn the pumpkin upside down and secure the knot of your twine to the bottom of the pumpkin with a drawing pin. Turn up the right way and adjust the lengths of twine so that the pumpkin sits straight. Knot the four lengths together at the top.

5 Fill the pumpkin with seed and hang it outside for the birds to feast on.

Find the rest of the pumpkin craft ideas on p50 of our October issue.

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Nature | Tree tunnels

Walk through a tree tunnel near you and feel like you’re entering fairyland

Those moments when you walk (or sometimes drive) through a tunnel of trees are a bit special, giving you at once a feeling of being hidden from the world and also transported somewhere magical. Of course you know that at the end of the tunnel the world will be much as it was on the side you entered it, but the strangeness of being cocooned by trees brings, just for a moment, that feeling that anything is possible and at the end of the tunnel might lie an entirely different world. 

Some tree tunnels are partially ‘man’made’, with trees planted in avenues to offer a shady walk in summer and a canopy of silhouetted branches in winter. Others are formed naturally, when a path is formed through trees by either footfall or vehicles and the branches meet in the middle overhead, never able to grow lower than the tallest person who regularly passes through. 

We think a good tree tunnel is a very fine focus for a good autumn walk, so we’ve listed a few of our favourites around Britain and Ireland. We hope you can find one near you. Send us a postcard from Fairyland!

Halnaker, West Sussex

Halnaker (pronounced ‘Ha’nacker’) is just north of Chichester and this tree tunnel walk (pictured above) follows the ancient Roman road, Stane Street. The woodland path has worn down over the years, giving the whole tunnel a circular effect and the look of a Tolkien novel. 

Kilham, East Yorkshire

Immortalised by David Hockney, who painted this tree tunnel in various seasons (they were exhibited at the Royal Academy for some time), this tunnel is between the villages of Langtoft and Kilham. Hockney painted them outside, rather than in his studio, and it’s worth familiarising yourself with the pieces before you visit; you get the feeling of stepping around Hockney himself seated at his easel as you approach.

The Dark Hedges, County Antrim

Created by more than 150 beech trees planted along the Bregagh Road between Armoy and Stanocum by the Stuart family as an entrance to Gracehill Manor, this tunnel is so spooky it’s been featured in films and TV series including Game of Thrones. It’s seriously spooky, with branches that look terrifyingly like they might just reach down and pluck you off the road. 

Laburnum tunnel, Bodnant Garden, Conwy

This 55m-long laburnum arch was planted in 1880 at Bodnant Garden, now owned by the National Trust. It’s believed to be the longest and oldest in Britain and is best visited when the flowers are in full bloom and hanging down into the tunnel at the end of May and the beginning of June. 

Yew Tree Tunnel in Aberglasney Gardens, Camarthenshire

It’s difficult to date yews. Experts originally thought this tunnel to be a thousand years old but in the 1990s dendochronologists (tree-daters to you and I) decided it was probably only a quarter of that age and guess it was planted in the 1700s. It proved enormously popular in the Victorian era. Victorians went mad for yews, apparently. 

Gormanston College Fairytale Tree Tunnel, County Meath

The cathedral-esque curves of this tree tunnel in the grounds of Gormanston College near Dublin makes for a spooky walk with a quiet reverence about it. 

Untamed tree tunnel, Kilsyth, North Lanarkshire

Some of the best tree tunnels are the slightly wild ones you just happen across. Kilsyth has one in the Burnside area, close to the sportsground. As haunted-looking as some of the most famous tree tunnels but a bit rougher round the edges and more ‘real’, this is a joy to find as you turn into it. 

Rhododendron tunnels, Sheringham Park, Norfolk

Paths and tunnels weave through the rhododendrons at Sheringham Park. They’re at their colourful best in Spring and perfect for a game of hide-and-seek, no matter your age. 

Hollow Way, Monksilver, Somerset

Hollow Way is the perfect moniker for this sunken Lane which creates a perfectly round tunnel through the trees. We recommend a stop off at the Notley Arms Inn on the way back to rest weary legs. https://www.notleyarmsinn.co.uk/en-GB

Yew tunnel, Easton Walled Garden, Grantham

Another yew tunnel, but they really do make for the best tunnels. And if it gives you a taste for the labyrinthine, the gardens also have a turf maze to enjoy. Visit in late winter or early spring to enjoy the woodland snowdrops, too. 

Do share your favourite tree tunnels with us in the comments, and turn to page 17 of the October issue to read more about understanding your walks from outdoor guru Tristan Gooley.

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Folklore | Blackberries

This beautiful blackberries image is from our August issue, where we’re celebrating the beginning of blackberrying season.

Make the most of them now, though; folklore has it that you shouldn’t eat blackberries after Michaelmas Day (September 29th).

When St Michael, for whom the day is named, battled Lucifer and kicked him out of heaven, Lucifer landed in hell, on a thorny blackberry bush. So angry was he, that he cursed the blackberry bush and ensured its berries would taste foul from St Michaelmas Day onwards.

We’re unsure why the poor blackberry bush suffered the blame for Lucifer’s thorny and sore behind rather than St Michael, but it sounds like a good reason to us to get picking your blackberries now. Don’t forget to freeze a few so you can make them into a blackberry pie for St Michaelmas Day and stick it to Lucifer with your delicious early autumn blackberries.

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Nature | Peripatetic Peregrines

How some country-dwelling birds moved to the big smoke

We live in strange times and the beasts among us that are adaptable are those that will likely emerge the strongest.

Take the peregrine, for example; just a few decades ago, this magnificent cliff-dweller was dwindling in number in the UK, due to the (now banned) pesticide DDT. But now they’re back, and they’ve moved upmarket, taking up residence in some of the most sought-after buildings in our cities.

When Battersea Power Station was renovated and became luxury flats the first family through the door was a pair of peregrines. Unfortunately, they chose to nest in one of the chimneys that was about to be taken down and rebuilt. Peregrines are no respecters of a rising housing market. The development company had to - at a cost of £100,000 - build a mast next to the chimney with a nesting box and pray that the birds would relocate there for their next nesting season. Fortunately the peregrines acquiesced - perhaps Sarah Beeney had a word - and they’ve remained there since. 

City slicker peregrines have been spotted circling St Paul’s, diving for prey from cranes and generally cavorting all over the city. The cathedrals, cranes and chimneys from which they nest and hunt are their new cliff faces. And they’re enjoying city life very nicely, thank you. It’s thought the rise in numbers is accounted for by the large numbers of feral pigeons available for them to eat. 

But it’s not just in London that peregrines are settling down to city life. They’ve also nested successfully for many years in Norwich Cathedral spire, at St John’s in Bath, in Manchester skyscrapers, on Nottingham Trent University and even on a phone mast in Southampton. 

If you live in a city and are a lover of large birds, just look up, up, up. You might just find a peregrine looking back at you, beady of eye.

If you like the feathered chap above, you might be interested to know he was made entirely of paper and is the work of Zack McLaughlin os paperandwood.co.uk. You can see more paper birds from page 20 of our June issue.

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