THERE’S a dark and ominous scar seared into the soul of America.
Trouble is, those of us brought up across the Pond and seeing that country through the rose-tinted lens of 1950s Hollywood thought that at least some of those wounds had been healed.
How could a nation captivated by the principled decency of Atticus Finch not have united in disgust at the racist brutality which sparked the civil rights movement and permanently banished the evils of segregation and prejudice to the dustbin of history?
LEGAL ICON: Gregory Peck as Atticus Finch
But as the United States gears up to celebrate its 250th anniversary of independence in July, there’s no hiding the fact that racial intolerance is not something confined to the pages of the history books.
From the fatal shooting by an ICE agent in Minnesota that threatened to inflame an already contentious debate over immigration policy to images of an orange-hued president enjoying a round of gold with friends while American bombs fall on civilians abroad, it’s been a time when the world has had to recalibrate how it views America and its president.
And who better to explain just how dramatically the hard-won advances of the Sixties are being gleefully trashed in 2026 than journalist friend Joe Furey, a freelance specialising in longform narrative non-fiction who has been studying and writing about race in the United States for the past 30 years.
His Substack post from October 2025, Necessary Ghosts, contains some devastating insights into a country “whose power remains immense, but the symptoms of late empire are familiar: yawning inequality, paralysed politics, eroding faith in institutions”.
Prepare to be shocked: to be reminded of the thousands of lynchings that took place across this vast land, often with law enforcement lending a façade of legitimacy, along with the fact that the United States still locks up more of its own citizens than almost any other nation on earth, with Black communities still disproportionately impacted by 21st-century inequities in policing, prisons, parole and housing policies.
Joe’s 6,000-word post is not an easy read, but it is an important one. Racial injustice in America is no flashback to a distant past but a vivid reality haunting the country today, and a vivid reminder that the wealthiest nation on earth is also the one with the biggest racial wealth gap.
PERHAPS it was inevitable that Philip Strange would become a nature writer.
A scientist by training, he worked in universities for more than 30 years researching mechanisms of drug action.
Writing about his academic research was an important part of his university life, leading to numerous scientific papers and even a respected textbook on brain biochemistry and brain disorders.
FRESH START: Philip Strange moved to the West Country
But taking early retirement offered the opportunity of a fresh start and a new adventure. And moving with his wife Hazel and family to the West Country proved something of an eye-opener, awakening a new interest for him in the natural world.
“We live in Totnes and have enjoyed exploring the coast of south Devon and west Dorset, also nearby Dartmoor,” says Philip. “It has been a revelation for me as to how much there is to see, not only beautiful views but also wildlife including birds, insects and flowers.”
SEA VIEW: looking towards Prawle Point PICTURE: Philip Strange
Since he retired, writing about nature has become his principal occupation, inspired by his daily ramblings down local country lanes.
“I never fail to be moved by the beauty of the environment and the wildlife found there,” says Philip.
That new fascination has led to dozens of articles being published in print and online, along with more than 270 blog posts chronicling his encounters with local insects or wildflowers.
In a new departure, following a suggestion from his artist wife Hazel, the pair have organised three exhibitions together in a Totnes gallery over the past few years with her landscape paintings of the local coast alongside his photographs of wildlife in similar locations.
INSECT ENCOUNTER: a long-horned beetle PICTURE: Philip Strange
“I have found that there is a multitude of wildlife very close to our house, in nearby country lanes, in a local community garden and even on the edges of town centre car parks,” says Philip.
On a quiet local lane, he can hear the sound of the church bells pealing in the centre of Totnes and look over towards the hills of Dartmoor.
Ten years on, he’s still passionate about the natural world and about communicating that passion through his writing and photographs.
SPLASH OF COLOUR: an orange-tip butterfly PICTURE: Philip Strange
His blog has received more than 150,000 views, and his articles have appeared everywhere from Devon Life and Cornwall Today to The Dark Mountain Project and a range of science, nature and environmental journals.
His scientific background gives his articles heft and his painstaking attention to detail adds to their credibility, but ultimately it’s their accessibility and enthusiasm which has ensured their popularity.
RARE FIND: a long-horned bee PICTURE: Philip Strange
He can lament the loss of vital heathland habitat in an unsentimental way, explaining how such landscapes were created and shaped by human activity across the centuries or exploring how flower-rich hay meadows that were once such an important feature of the British countryside have declined so dramatically since the 1930s.
But the main emphasis of his regular blog posts lies in chronicling the bees, moths, butterflies and wildflowers he encounters on his rambles, whether that involves exploring controversies surrounding the humble ragwort or delighting in the discovery of hundreds of ivy bees.
SNEAKY MIMIC: a bee orchid PICTURE: Philip Strange
Perhaps one series of posts best sums up the enduring appeal of Philip’s blog: those tracking the changing seasons along Fishchowter’s Lane, an ancient footpath not far from his house.
With a rich history dating from at least the 12th century when it was part of the main road from Totnes to Dartmouth, the lane provides a perfect microcosm of Philip’s fascination with the local landscape.
JURASSIC COAST: the view from Lyme Regis PICTURE: Philip Strange
It reflects his ability to home in on the small details that many of us miss: a bumblee feasting on yellow archangel, perhaps, or the unexpected beauty of hedge woundwort or bramble flowers.
Accompanied by hundreds of pictures, the posts act as a veritable encyclopaedia of those local flowers and insects, a welcome reminder of how much beauty can be found on our doorsteps, if only we look closely enough.
Philip’s blog contains links to all his other published articles.
AFTER all the mist and mud of those grubby December days, the first crisp, clear nights of a New Year provide a joyful if chilly contrast.
At night, a Cheshire Cat moon smiles down on silvery woods, the stars projected with crystal clarity on the night sky, turning it into a glorious outdoor planetarium.
But it’s on those morning walks that the pleasure is most keenly felt, when the sky is aglow with orange and gold and the landscape is full of colour once more.
Countless literary works celebrate the first golden rays of the sun peeking over the horizon as a symbol of renewal and rebirth, the “mellow blush of day” banishing the fears and worries of night, and it’s easy to see why.
GOLDEN GLOW: a symbol of renewal PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Spectacular sunrises make us reach for our smartphones to capture the fleeting beauty of the moment in the same way that our ancestors searched for the right word or phrase to capture the ethereal glory that accompanies the pulse of a new day.
A symbol of hope and enlightment, beauty and illumination, dawn sees the canvas of the countryside splashed with hues of gold and pink as the landscape awakes to the promise of heat and light.
SUBTLE HUES: the countryside awakes PICTURE: Gel Murphy
And with these first sunny days of 2026 people are out in force to make the most of those all-too-brief rays of sunshine, the parks filling up with families and dog walkers eager to enjoy the novelty.
At times the colours hark back to those wonderful hues of autumn, even if the undergrowth has all died back. But that won’t last long, we fear.
Word is that there’s even colder weather on the way, so we’d better soak up those lukewarm rays while we can.
AUTUMNAL FEEL: sunlight on dead leaves PICTURE: Andrew Knight
Of course it’s not long into the new year before there’s heavy snow sweeping the country and causing widespread travel disruption.
COLD COMFORT: temperatures drop fast PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
In the Chilterns, the blizzard is brief for most: a picturesque dusting of white reminding us of Mary Oliver’s wind-bird with its white eyes summoning clouds from the north which thicken and fall into the world below “like stars, or the feathers of some unimaginable bird”.
DUSTING OF WHITE: sledgers search for a hill PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
But while we’ve been spared snowdrifts and flooding, the frosts have been cruel and uncompromising. The glitter is picturesque, but it’s the sort of bone-chilling cold that brings an icy sheen to pavements and roads, striking fear in the hearts of learner drivers and fragile pensioners.
As the sun rises, it’s enough to burn off the frosty layer and bring a deceptive appearance of warmth to those picnic tables in the park.
But it’s very much an illusion: even in the sunlight the temperature is sub-zero and we’re wrapped up warm against the freezing wind, with no temptation to linger.
BRIGHT SPOT: picnic tables in Farm Wood PICTURE: Andrew Knight
Our canine friends have no such hesitation about wanting to get out and about in all weathers, eager to sniff out news of last night’s visitors, their enthusiasm indomitable and infectious.
NO TIME TO LOSE: canine friends are eager to explore PICTURE: Gel Murphy
And however cold the morning air, there are other creatures out and about too: hungry birds searching for food, a disconsolate white egret plodding along the river bank, a dishevelled kestrel slumped on a post in the park, drizzle falling on his gorgeous feathers.
In a sunlit glade, a deer keeps a watchful eye on the morning dog walkers, wary but too comfortable to move.
On many mornings it’s still grey and drab, with little to catch our attention. It’s a bleak time of the year for those reluctantly returning to work after the holiday season, conscious of the shorter, darker days.
But on crisper mornings when there’s a renewed chill in the air after a cloudless night, the outdoors comes to life again and those colours shine rich and clear and true.
Doubtless the unpredictability of the weather contributes to the January mood swings affecting so many people, but just as unrelenting frosts still set the theme for many morning walks, glorious sunrises help to raise the spirits.
MORNING HAS BROKEN: a Chilterns sunrise PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Some writers, like the Pre-Raphaelite poet and painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti, have portrayed this time of year with a shameless idealism, recalling a mythical era of “mighty fires in hall, and torches lit” and capturing images of fellowship, silk sheets and baked sweetmeats.
For other poets it is a rawer month, where the snow “feels no pity” for RS Thomas’s wounded fox or when “every friendly stream” is frozen fast and Death “leers in at human windows” for Hilaire Belloc.
It’s a time when the harshness of the weather may accentuate our feelings of love and loss, heightening the pain of those who are grieving.
Back in 2004, psychologist Cliff Arnall even came up with a scientific formula for the January blues, identifying the third Monday of the month (Blue Monday) as the most depressing of the year, thanks to a combination of factors ranging from post-holiday blues and bleak weather to people’s debt worries and low motivation levels.
But while many charities recognise how hard it can be to remain positive when struggling with feelings of loneliness or loss at this time of year, there are plenty of rays of light in the darkness too.
As well as those glorious sunrises and sunsets we are treated to sneaky glimpses of shy animals and intriguing patterns in the icy hedgerows.
ICY PATTERNS: an extra sparkle PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Yes, there are days where the skies are bleak, the paths muddy, the hedgerows bare. But that’s when the sight of a brazen blackbird singing loudly or a red kite whistling overhead can transform our mood.
Or what about that gorgeous little vixen prancing along looking very healthy and well groomed? She’s looking very curious and brave, this formidable night-time predator, approaching close to the photographer, that intense gaze watchful but unafraid.
HEALTHY LOOK: an inquisitive vixen PICTURE: Malcolm Cridlan
Though we know foxes for their fear-inducing screams, barks and howls in the night and dog owners despair over the smell of their poo, we also know that they can be intelligent, friendly and playful, with videos capturing them bouncing on trampolines or stealing balls from gardens and golf courses.
Tame foxes are capable of bonding closely with humans and that those cute cubs play like puppies when they are in their “skulk” (a small group that typically includes a mother and her cubs).
INTENSE GAZE: a vulpine encounter PICTURE: Malcolm Cridlan
This vixen looks well fed and healthy, and her presence and proximity is enough to brighten the dullest of days.
Off she trots, ears alert for any small animals hiding in the hedgerow or high grass, an expert hunter in her element, unfazed by her human encounter.
NEW BEGINNING: a welcome sunrise PICTURE: Anne Rixon
Catching such glimpses of our local wildlife is good for our mental health, but let’s face it: few of us have ever seen a mole or weasel, stoat or vole. Britain’s wild animals can be furtive and elusive, fast-moving and hard to spot.
Even animals like hedgehogs or hares that might have seemed commonplace years ago are more difficult to stumble across than they were half a century ago. No wonder young people may tend to lose interest in spending time in the great outdoors once they’re past the Pooh sticks and conkers stage.
We know the causes of the dramatic decline in UK wildlife since the 1970s: the threats posed by plastics and pesticides, intensive farming and urban sprawl.
INTENSIVE FARMING: sheep in the mist PICTURE: Gel Murphy
But if young people find it impossible to engage with the natural world, the prospects of reversing the decline are bound to suffer. It’s a thought we ponder after remonstrating with a couple of young girls throwing their empty plastic bottles into the hedgerow.
They stare at us as if we’re insane to care what they do, never mind complain about it. And they certainly have no intention of picking up their litter.
But while it’s easy to despair at the state of the nation or bemoan the rudeness of (some) young people, things won’t improve until we can win over their hearts and minds to love and care for our countryside.
CHILLY VISTA: the January landscape PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Many young people today despair about their futures and their lack of personal agency. Priced out of the housing market and weighed down by cost-of-living and debt worries, they see a world where taxes are rising and their prospects of living a stable, fulfilling life may seem to be crumbling.
With many battling mental health worries and feelings of anxiety and despair, the disillusionment isn’t just financial, but extends to existential fears about global conflict, the climate crisis and uncertainty about the prospect of inheriting a livable planet for themselves and their children.
MISTY MOMENT: a new day dawns PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
If many youngsters feel unhappy and isolated, let down by society and struggling to find meaning in their lives, we somehow we need to convince them that nature holds solutions to their problems and is not just a sad, drab outdoors space to be avoided, despised or abused.
Thankfully there is an army of young naturalists out there able and willing to pick up the baton thrown down by the likes of Chris Packham and David Attenborough.
They won’t face an easy task. But while it’s easy to despair at the scale of the challenge, there’s no better time than in the first few days of a new year to look on the bright side of life: after all, it’s a beautiful world out there, and it’s the only one we’ve got.
WOLF MOON RISING: fire in the sky PICTURE: Anne Rixon
OXFORDSHIRE Museum has succeeded in a crowdfunding campaign to put some remarkable Iron Age artefacts on public display.
The extraordinary hoard was unearthed in the county by a metal detectorist in 2020 after having been buried almost 2,000 years ago following the Roman invasion of Britain.
It includes a beautifully preserved horse brooch described as the most significant discovery of its kind since the Polden Hill Hoard unearthed in Somerset in 1800.
RARE FIND: the ancient horse brooch PICTURE: Allen Beechey
The items were excavated and recorded in partnership with the Chilterns National Landscape’s heritage and archaeology manager Dr Wendy Morrison, who was contacted by a detectorist investigating a field in Rotherfield Peppard.
The detectorist rightly recognised the unusual nature of the artefact but had been unable to contact the county finds liaison officer because of the pandemic.
Dr Morrison realised from a photograph that the item was an extremely rare horse brooch. She said: “Seeing that picture come in on my phone, I leapt off the sofa in excitement – I knew immediately that this was a significant find.”
The enamelled brooch was part of a collection of items of value, including a rare silver Roman coin, that had been deposited into a large ceramic pot and buried at some point around AD 50 to 150.
BURIED TREASURE: the base of the pot PICTURE: Allen Beechey
The pottery urn was sealed with a quern stone made of Hertfordshire puddingstone. Such stone tools were traditionally used in pairs for hand-grinding a variety of materials, especially grains.
The items will now go on public display after the Friends of the Oxfordshire Museum succeeded in raising more £11,000 through a crowdfunding campaign that attracted more than 200 donors, including academics and local residents.
Prior to the Roman conquest, horses and the chariots they pulled were an important part of Iron Age life and the harness and chariot fittings were a way of displaying someone’s wealth, status and skill in caring for these animals.
STONE SEAL: quern stone fragments PICTURE: Allen Beechey
Dr Elaine King, CEO at the Chilterns National Landscape, said:“This case demonstrates the huge value of having archaeological expertise in our staff team. A regionally significant discovery has been preserved, along with its context, providing vital information that improves our understanding of people living in the Chilterns nearly 2,000 years ago.”
Impeccable service is even even more elusive, especially in a digital age which has fostered a respect for speed and efficiency over any authentic attempt to engender a sense of trust and loyalty among patrons.
Perhaps it’s appropriate, then, that the art deco surroundings of The Ivy Marlow Garden should reflect not just the timeless elegance of the 1920s but the attentive service we normally tend to associate with a bygone age when an expert maître d’ could make every customer feel personally known and valued.
It’s a dying art. And it’s one of the reasons behind the success of the original Ivy, opened in Covent Garden back in 1917 as an unlicensed Italian café and rapidly turning into one of London’s great Theatreland rendezvous, patronised in the 1940s by Olivier and Gielgud, Marlene Dietrich, Noel Coward and the like.
Revitalised in the Nineties, it became as popular with Hollywood stars and Royalty as it had been with the theatre legends of old, with long waiting lists for reservations boosted by the potential prospect of catching a glimpse of Madonna, Brad Pitt or Kate Moss.
Under the ownership of Richard Caring, over the past 20 years the brand has dramatically expanded beyond London’s Theatreland, with more than 40 cafes and brasseries opening around the country, including Marlow, Windsor, Oxford and St Albans.
Thankfully the passion for fine food has extended to ensuring that the elegant ambience and intimate attention to detail has not been diluted in the process of expansion, and the warm welcoming glow has an extra festive flavour when the Christmas decorations are up.
We’re here for a December breakfast treat, a chance to enjoy a little old-world luxury before facing the rigours of the high street, and we’re not disappointed.
They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day, a sacred meal, one to be savoured and embraced, full of promise and possibilities.
Where better to enjoy it, then, than in an establishment that understands how to create a memorable, multi-sensory experience which never feels pretentious, stuffy or uncomfortable.
This is the sort of meal which conjures up the characters from an Evelyn Waugh or PG Wodehouse novel, a leisurely moment of respite from the outside world where all the senses are engaged, from the feel of linen and heavy hotelware to the taste of well-cooked fresh ingredients, elegantly presented.
At around £60 for two, breakfast at The Ivy is perhaps double the cost of an equivalent full English at your local greasy spoon, but the cheaper option is likely to be a lot less memorable.
Like an affable colonel in an Agatha Christie mystery, we linger over the toast and marmalade before emerging onto the high street replete, mellow and ready to cope with the challenges of the day ahead. And it’s pretty hard to put a price on that sense of wellbeing.
ON a chilly sunny morning in December, it’s the sheer tranquillity of the Savill Garden at Windsor Great Park that makes the biggest impression.
The sun glints off a series of interlinked lakes, the wildfowl bustle about on the water but there’s little else to disturb the morning calm.
A handful of couples meander along the paths that link the different parts of this 35-acre haven of gardens, woodland and seasonal displays, mainly older visitors taking a close interest in the inspiring range of unusual planting ideas featuring both native and exotic species.
A hidden gem on the eastern edge of the 4,800-acre expanse of Windsor Great Park, a stone’s throw from Englefield Green and Virginia Water Lake, the gardens were commissioned by King George V and established in the 1930s by Eric Savill.
They opened to the public in 1951 and the new Crown Estate visitor centre with its shop and dining areas dates from 2006, acting as a busy focal point for families taking advantage of all the facilities the Great Park has to offer.
But the additional entry price to Savill Garden tends to keep the crowds at bay, and the fact that dogs and picnics are not allowed here may be another deterrent to more boisterous family groups, leaving the gardens to those seeking a quiet stroll in the chilly winter sunshine.
Although the different gardens are planted to make the most of different seasons, it’s a muted palette at this time of year.
In April and May, the rhododendrons, magnolias and woodland perennials of Spring Wood will come to life in a blaze of colour.
In summer it will be the turn of the huge drifts of hydrangeas and flowering shrubs in Summer Wood and the Summer Gardens.
But for now it’s the turn of the Winter Gardens, where colourful dogwood willows and heavily scented Himalayan daphnes help to bring a splash of colour to the landscape.
At this time of year the statuesque gunneras which dominate the wet ground in summer have been cut and placed upside down to create rows of distinctive vegetable umbrellas to repel the winter downpours and insulate against frost.
But if the colours are subdued and some of the branches bare, this is a month when it’s all about textures: the exotic woodland is a treasure trove of rare and beautiful trees and those bark patterns and ridges are as intriguing as they are varied.
Like the more extensive Valley Gardens established on the north side of Virginia Water Lake in the 1940s, Savill Garden is a showcase for plants and trees donated by gardeners from all over the world.
That makes it a magnet for dedicated horticulturalists, but you don’t have to be an expert to appreciate the beauty and variety of the glorious vistas here.
If you book in advance, younger visitors can head for the adjoining hand-crafted wooden adventure playground for a two-hour session exploring the fascinating network of walkways, slides, tunnels and sculptures.
The play area is set over multiple levels with lots of little wooden houses to explore and a mixture of sand, water and music play to keep all ages amused, with carvings of an owl, squirrel and mice to indicate the different abilities the equipment is suitable for.
But like the cafe and restaurant here, a visit doesn’t come cheap: a family of four won’t expect much change out of £50 for a play session, though parking is free for those paying for access to the play area or the garden.
Savill Garden offers a chance to connect with decades of royal history, with Queen Elizabeth II having opened several of the key attractions, a reminder of her lifelong love of Windsor, where the castle was a cherished private retreat during her lifetime, and especially after Philip’s death.
A safe haven during the war years, Windsor Castle served as a family home as well as the centre of her official life, hosting numerous state banquets and diplomatic receptions.
Indeed after Queen Elizabeth II passed away in 2022, 100,000 gathered on The Long Walk to pay their final respects as the funeral cortege brought her home to Windsor on her final journey before a service of committal in St George’s Chapel.
Looking out over those serene ponds and rippling streams that trickle their way down to Virginia Water, it might be an appropriate moment to reflect on the importance of the Windsor landscape not only to Queen Elizabeth II, but its significance in the lives of earlier monarchs too.
The Castle itself is the oldest and largest occupied castle in the world, continuously inhabited for almost a millennium and encapsulating centuries of royal history, from William the Conqueror’s love of deer hunting to Charles II’s fascination with French architecture and Queen Victoria’s picnics at Virginia Water.
That means there’s plenty to explore beyond the confines of the garden – but there could hardly be a more peaceful starting place for your Windsor adventure.
To visit Savill Garden, book your tickets online up to 9am on the day of your visit.
IT’S hard to conceive just how terrifying it must have been to stay at Baddesley Clinton four hundred years ago.
These days the moated manor house looks serene and idyllic in the autumn sunshine.
But in the closing years of the Tudor period, life was anything but serene in this corner of Warwickshire.
SERENE?: the manor house at Baddesley Clinton
With high infant mortality and a country rife with regular epidemics of flu, dysentery and tuberculosis, life in Tudor England was always dangerous – and to add to the casualties, thousands were executed for crimes ranging from theft and robbery to murder and treason.
TYRANT: Henry VIII portrayed by Hans Holbein around 1537
Rebels and insurgents were mercilessly punished, and as Henry VIII proceeded to seize convents, abbeys and monasteries across the country during the English Reformation, abbots, monks and friars in their habits would be among the hundreds to be hanged.
We remember the reign of Elizabeth I as a time of extraordinary enterprise as the known world expanded through maritime exploration and trade, cities grew in size and the economy boomed.
GLOBAL POWER: the Armada Portrait of Elizabeth I at Woburn Abbey
But though it was known as an era when the arts and theatre flourished, it was also a time of widespread poverty, food shortages and hardship for most ordinary people.
As law and medicine prospered, the publishing industry thrived. But while the Church of England was becoming securely established and much of the country had come to embrace the Protestant faith, English Catholics began to face increased surveillance, stricter laws and persecution because of fears of foreign plots against the Queen.
PLACE OF WORSHIP: the chapel at Baddesley Clinton today
More than half a century had passed since Henry VIII’s momentous decision to defy the Pope and marry Elizabeth’s mother, Anne Boleyn, and most Catholics wanted simply to remain as loyal subjects while practising their religion.
But the decision by Pope Pius V to excommunicate the English Queen in 1570 effectively gave papal approval for her Catholic subjects to rise in rebellion, confirming the worst fears of her chief advisors.
PLACE OF REFUGE: Baddesley Clinton
The laws targeting Catholics were increasingly tightened. Fines for failing to attend Church of England services rocketed.
Any priest found in England was to be found automatically guilty of treason and would receive the death penalty. And it was also made a capital offence to shelter a priest.
UNDER SIEGE: sheltering a priest was a capital offence
Despite the terrible penalties, wealthy families provided secret support and colleges in Europe trained English Jesuits who were smuggled back to keep the faith alive – which takes us back to Baddesley Clinton and a run-in with the priest-hunters, or pursuivants, in October 1591.
Secret worship had become the norm for England’s besieged Catholics, and Baddesley Clinton was one of a underground ‘resistance’ network of safe houses set up to welcome – and if necessary, hide – any visiting priests.
SAFE SPACE: England’s Catholics were under siege
Its owner, Henry Ferrers, was working in London and in 1588 rented his home to Anne Vaux and her sister Eleanor, daughters of a devout Catholic peer who had himself been imprisoned and fined for harbouring the Jesuit priest and martyr Edmund Campion, who was hanged, drawn and quartered at Tyburn in 1581 – one of more than 120 missionary priests to be martyred in Elizabeth’s reign.
HOME FROM HOME: the Vaux sisters rented the manor house
Aged about 25, Anne dedicated much of her life to sheltering and protecting Father Henry Garnet, the Jesuit Superior in England, who was a very high profile target for those protecting the Protestant faith.
At a time when the priesthood had all but been wiped out, Garnet, in his early thirties, was in charge of mentoring newly arrived young priests who lived in constant fear of capture, torture and execution.
SOCIAL NETWORK: Baddesley Clinton belonged to Henry Ferrers
Posing as his sister under the false name ‘Mrs Alice Perkins’, Anne travelled around the country with him via the network of safe houses which her brother had helped to set up.
An equally loyal assistant to Father Garnet was a young apprentice joiner called Nicholas Owen who would become the country’s foremost designer and builder of hiding places for priests.
WITHIN THESE WALLS: Baddesley Clinton
For nearly 20 years, Owen crafted sophisticated priest holes and elaborate hiding places for ritual Mass items that could fool even the most persistent and ingenious hunters.
And it was at Baddesley Clinton that he would fashion a variety of such hiding places, including a sizeable refuge which could several men by repurposing a sewage outfall tunnel leading to the moat.
SECRET TUNNEL: Owen’s hide could accommodate several men
With the entrance craftily hidden behind an old toilet shaft, it was to prove a life-saver in October 1591 when Father Garnet convened an important Jesuit gathering at Baddesley.
Separate accounts captured the full drama of the dawn raid that saw the manor house surrounded by priest-hunters with drawn swords hammering at the front door demanding to be let in and intent on tearing the place apart.
As the servants and mistress of the house played for time, the priests frantically rushed to hide the trappings of Mass, their vestments and boots, as well as smoothing over bedspreads to hide the presence of so many guests.
PANIC STATIONS: Mass trappings had to be hidden
Anne was no shrinking violet, challenging the men: “Do you think it right and proper that you should be admitted to a widow’s house before she or her servants or her children are out of bed?
“Why this lack of good manners? Why come so early? Why keep coming to my house in this hostile manner? Have you ever found me unwilling to open the door to you as soon as you knocked?”
When she was finally forced to let them in, they raged around the house for four hours, shining candles into the darkest corners, furiously pounding the walls, shifting tables and turning over beds.
DAWN RAID: the priest-hunters finally gain access
Trembling underground, bent over and standing in water, the priests must have feared the worst. But Owen’s craftmanship and Anne Vaux’s bravery were to save their lives.
The lady of the house was forced to endure the final ignominy of inviting the pursuivants to breakfast and, as the law decreed, even paying them 12 gold pieces for their ‘trouble’ before the household could heave a collective sigh of relief, waiting for the searchers to be some distance off before finally summoning the priests from their hiding place in the bowels of the manor.
It’s hard to conceive the level of courage required to endure harrowing ordeals of this kind. Anne’s status and sex did not guarantee her safety – three women were executed during her lifetime for the harbouring of priests – and although Father John Gerard and Nicholas Owen both escaped the raid in Warwickshire, the pair were seized in 1594 at another raid in London.
FAMILY HOME: the Ferrers lived at Baddesley for centuries
It seems unlikely that any of those present during the traumatic dawn raid of 1591 would ever forget it, but the manor house itself continued to be a place of refuge for the Ferrers family for the next 12 generations, and the best part of 500 years.
After spending time in prison, Owen’s many adventures saw him helping with the extraordinary escape of Father Gerard from the Tower of London in 1597.
But he was later captured in one of his own priest-holes and would himself die on the rack in the Tower in 1606, the same year that saw Father Garnet executed for high treason. He was canonized in 1970.
HISTORY LESSON: Baddesley speaks across the centuries
Anne Vaux was also arrested in 1606 and later released, though her faith never wavered. She would be convicted of recusancy in 1625 and, when she founded a school for boys from Catholic noble families, the Protestant authorities tried to shut it down in 1635.
Baddesley passed into the hands of the National Trust back in 1980, and many of its rooms chronicle the stories of its different inhabitants across the centuries. But none of those tales is quite as frightening or memorable as that dawn raid when the priest hunters almost found their men.
A YEAR ago, we spend two months quietly chronicling daily life in the Chilternsat the tail end of the year.
Those precious “mindfulness moments” were inspired by the glorious photographs of our regular contributors and provided a welcome opportunity for thoughtful reflection about the natural world around us.
Our hectic lives offer few such chances to allow our minds to wander away from the cares and tribulations of our daily routines, and our December reverie allowed us time to consider the glorious plumage of kingfishers, the supposed slyness of foxes and the cleverness of goldfinches and pigeons.
Amid the bare branches of winter trees or traversing flooded footpaths, there was time to contemplate forest law in the era of the Norman kings, reflect on why the sky appears so blue and explore the extraordinary history of the prickly teasel, which once played such a central role in the nation’s cloth production.
PICTURE POSTCARD: dawn at Coleshill PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Against the warm yellow backdrop of ancient cottage windows, December days offer a range of moments to cherish: the smell of woodsmoke drifting across the fields, the lure of a roaring fire in a friendly pub or the cawing of rooks on a dusk walk along a darkened country lane.
From elegant egrets and colourful jays to chattering parakeets and territorial robins, there are plenty of feathered friends around to distract our attention while we ponder about the talents of ancient Babylonian stargazers, misty legends in foggy forests or the traditions associated with the winter solstice…
IT’S not every day you get the offer of having your portrait painted – especially when you’re a dog.
But thanks to the kindness and generosity of talented artist friend Julian Renouf, Teddy the labrador now has an intimately observed hand-painted record of one of his disarming and very familiar expressions.
HARD STARE: Teddy the labrador PORTRAIT: Julian Renouf
This is not so much a look of love or affection, you understand, but more akin to Paddington Bear’s disapproving “hard stare”.
Except that it Ted’s case it’s not a direct criticism as much as a plea for attention, a reminder that once again our priorities appear to be misplaced.
Instead of instantly responding to his unspoken request for a walk, meal or game, we are selfishly pursuing our own agenda: eating, reading or watching TV without reacting to that unspoken demand.
The subtle twitch of an eyebrow indicates an extra nuance of urgency. It’s time. Time for that walk in the woods or extra portion of kibble…
Since his second birthday, Ted has calmed down a lot. He’s still easily excited by new faces, but there’s been slow and steady progress towards becoming more trustworthy off the lead and around other dogs, walkers and joggers.
CALMING DOWN: Teddy at two years’ old
Just as the double-click harness and Halti were game changers in getting him to walk politely, being able to use a slip lead has helped make it quicker and easier to get out of the car and start enjoying a taste of freedom in the woods.
It would have been impossible to use when he was younger and more boisterous. At 40kg, he was too powerful to control on one, even aside from the danger of any damage to his neck.
FREE SPIRIT: off the beaten track in Bledlow
But of course it’s a process that’s not without its setbacks. There are still those occasional nightmare moments when he’ll subbornly refuse to obey any instructions or takes a muddy lunge at an unsuspecting stranger.
AUTUMN COLOURS: off the lead in the woods
Yet there are many more good days than bad days, with darker nights and worsening weather reducing the number of hazards on regular walking routes, allowing us to normalise and reinforce those good habits, like the willing return to peep of a whistle or the contented leap into the back of the van at the end of a wander.
GOOD HABITS: learning the ropes
Of the various trainers who have encounted Teddy in his short life, Leah, a very competent local obedience trainer and registered veterinary nurse, has been the most supportive and consistent in helping him mature, and we’ve been very grateful for her advice and practical help– even if it means he can’t help going absolutely beserk with delight when she comes to the door.
GROWING UP FAST: Teddy on his best behaviour
Leah’s training walks have been paying off in terms of recall, although of course there’s nothing as interesting as a new face and their alluring treats. Mum and Dad tend to appear a lot less interesting by comparison, and far easier to ignore.
Other owners are reassuring about these moments of selective hearing or apparent disobedience. Totally normal, we’re told. And of course later on, when someone’s back home, on their best behaviour and butter wouldn’t melt, it’s easy to forgive those temporary setbacks.
INNOCENT LOOK: the model citizen
Without doubt, the best part of any day is the chance of a runaround with Ted’s favourite friend, the one-year-old springador who lives opposite. But how to make sure those playful romps are a reward for good behaviour, rather than encouraging the pair to learn bad habits?
It may be a delicate balancing act, but the sheer delight they take in each other’s presence is a joy to behold.
Amid the snuffling and grumbling, the high-speed chases and play-fights over sticks, this is a love affair on a whole different scale, and one that’s totally unique. There’s no other furry friend that generates this sort of reaction from Ted.
He has friends he’ll chase or nuzzle briefly, and even one amorous Jack Russell terrier whose advances he’ll suffer with good-humoured patience.
AMOROUS: Jack the terrier
But Buddy the springador is in a leage of his own, with both dogs collapsing exhausted and contented after a high-speed chase around the park.
The added bonus is that they tend to be so preoccupied with each other that it’s easier to distract them from any passers-by or other hazards.
TOP DISTRACTION: playing with friends is a favourite pastime
Which brings us back to those wonderful brown eyes, and that winning stare.
At 28 months, Teddy is still far from being the model citizen. He’s slightly overweight, he’s very bouncy and he still gets so excited on occasion that he can hardly contain his excitement, which can be worrying if you have 40kg of black labrador heading towards you at high speed.
But we wouldn’t have it any other way. Thank you, Julian, for giving us a permanent and very personal memento of such a special time in a young labrador’s life. It’s very special!
THE EYES HAVE IT: Teddy tries to influence decisions
A YEAR ago, inspired by the work of our extraordinary photographers, we set about documenting daily life in the Chilterns over the space of two months in autumn.
For 61 days between Halloween and New Year’s Day, diary entries recorded the changing sights, sounds and smells of the local landscape.
From frosty mornings to chilly nights, the daily forays provided an opportunity to take time to savour the small delights we so often take for granted: cobwebs glinting in the sunlight, fabulous fungi lurking in the leaf litter or glorious sunsets bathing the fields in pinks and purples.
Lazy rambles were a chance to listen out for rutting deer and hooting owls, contemplate the eyeshine of foxes or reflect on some favourite poetry about the natural world.
From fog over the heath to the “smoky smirr o rain” amid the trees, November is a time of mists and mirk, first frosts and chilly moonlit nights.
It’s a month of poppies and fireworks too, of peak leaf fall, the wonders of “leaf peeping” and the simple pleasure of wrapping up warm to guard against the plummeting temperatures.
It’s a perfect time for reflection about the outstanding natural beauty all around us, with the weathered brick and flint of ancient cottages, pubs and farmhouses providing a glorious backdrop for an autumn outing.
On these ancient paths, generations of invaders and settlers trudged across the Chilterns and built their castles, forts and palaces along the banks of the Thames.
MISTY START: Cock Marsh on the Thames PICTURE: Phil Laybourne
Beneath our feet amid the fallen leaves are those miraculous glimpses of colour and texture which have such an intriguing story to tell about life on earth.
Fungi are everywhere around us, largely hidden from view and poorly understood despite providing a key to understanding the planet on which we live through their extraordinary symbiotic relationship with plants and trees.
As local villages light up to welcome the season of advent, out in the woods the trees come alive in the gleam of a supermoon, slowly, silently walking the night “in her silver shoon”, as Walter de la Mare so memorably captured in a book of children’s poems back in 1913.
“This way, and that, she peers, and sees / Silver fruit upon silver trees” he wrote, a suitably poetic reflection on the closing moments of a glorious November day and a reminder that it will not be too long before the rosy-fingered goddess Aurora will be rising from her marriage bed to bring daylight back to us mere mortals…
SUPERMOON: November’s Beaver Moon PICTURE: Carol Ann Finch
Day by day, November in the Chilternsincludes a selection of pictures taken talented local photographers. If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to our future calendar entries, join our Facebook group page or write to editor@thebeyonder.co.uk.
ARTISTS have been telling stories with coloured glass for hundreds of years.
In churches and cathedrals across Europe, stained-glass windows recount tales from the gospels, the lives of the saints and coats of arms expressing loyalty to monarchs, lords of the manor or wealthy patrons.
GOSPEL TALES: St Michael and All Angels, Lambourn
It was a medieval art form widely used in gothic architecture, though fragments of coloured glass have been found in the UK dating back to the seventh century.
LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS: St Mary the Virgin, Hambleden
From Genesis to the book of Revelation, the bible has provided inspiration for countless designs, from tiny panels crowded with delicately drawn figures and scenes in humble parish churches to spellbinding installations in the world’s oldest and grandest cathedrals, from Barcelona’s La Sagrada Familia to the little Sainte-Chapelle in Paris or Reims Cathedral.
WARTIME SCENE: St Mary’s church in Kettlewell
But many more modern examples tell just as dramatic stories as the medieval masterpieces or gothic revival of the Victorian period.
At Pluscarden Abbey in Scotland, the Marian Window on the north wall of the north transept dates from the 1960s and celebrates the place of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to whom the monastery is dedicated, in the history of salvation.
MARIAN WINDOW: Pluscarden Abbey in Scotland
The roundel is based on chapter 12 of the Book of Revelation and symbolises the universe divided between the darkness of the dragon and the Light of Christ.
But while the abbey dates from the 13th century, all but a few fragments of medieval glass had been lost by the time monks returned to the abbey in the 1940s and established a new stained-glass workshop.
BIBLE STORY: stained glass at Stonor House
Without wealthy benefactors it may not always be possible to replace stained-glass masterpieces destroyed by wars, natural disasters or the ravages of the Reformation.
But sometimes the smallest and simplest modern works can still speak volumes, like those created by Brother Eric at the Church of Reconciliation built in the 1960s to serve the Taizé community in rural France.
SPEAKING VOLUMES: windows at Taizé
Closer to home and hidden away in the heart of legal London, Temple Church could hardly have a more dramatic history.
Built by the Knights Templar, the order of crusading monks founded to protect pilgrims on their way to and from Jerusalem in the 12th century, it was designed to recall the holiest place in the Crusaders’ world: the circular Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem.
HIDDEN GEM: Temple Church
But on the night of 10 May 1941 disaster struck. For eight months, London had been enduring the German blitz, and on that moonlit night, the river was at low ebb and water pressure was weak. Sirens sounded at 11pm and the raid lasted all night.
By morning, five livery company halls had been destroyed, the House of Commons chamber had been burnt out, Westminster Hall and the Abbey had been scarred.
At the Temple, an early bomb in Middle Temple Gardens had destroyed the water mains and at around midnight fire-watchers saw an incendiary land on the roof of the church.
SURVIVING THE BLITZ: Temple Church today
The fire was still burning at noon on the next day, the pews and choir-stall reduced to lines of ash, the organ destroyed beyond recognition.
As with other London buildings damaged in the blitz, it took years to restore the church, with a specialist architect supervising a major reconstruction of the exterior and interior over ten years from 1947.
In 1957, specially commissioned stained-glass windows were installed as the gift of the Glaziers’ Company. The East Window was designed by Carl Edwards, who was famous for incorporating fragments of medieval glass, whose rich colours can no longer be readily reproduced today.
FRESH PERSPECTIVE: Carl Edwards’ East Window design
Its subjects range from Jesus throwing the merchants out of the temple to the City of London in the blitz and the Temple church before the war, creating a mosaic of glowing colours.
Though most of his designs were for church windows, Edwards would also design 40 heraldic windows for the debating chamber of the House of Lords, and his daughter, Caroline Benyon, would be commissioned to follow in his footsteps half a century on and design the Temple Church’s South Window, formally dedicated in 2008 and echoing the same exciting intensity of colour.
Old or new, stained glass has the power to captivate our senses and capture our imagination with stories as old as time – and long may that continue.
Fashioned by 19th-century craftsmen who were among the most successful in their field, one might expect luminous biblical portraits of the sort they produced for chapels and cathedrals around the world.
Yet these commissions by Clayton and Bell depict not gospel stories but Swiss and Italian landscapes, unconventionally presented as single vistas spread over a dozen windows, following German tradition from earlier in the century.
EXTRAORDINARY: the stained-glass scenes by Clayton and Bell
The reason? These works are among a number the pair completed for William Waldorf Astor, who became the second richest man in America after the death of his father in 1890 and would subsequently invest much of his personal fortune in England.
Indeed, he was to move here with his family the following year, announcing that America was “no longer a fit place for a gentleman to live”.
And having already initiated the construction of the opulent Waldorf Hotel in midtown Manhattan, he had hardly arrived in Britain before commissioning architect John Loughborough Pearson to design a “crenellated Tudor stronghold” on London’s Victoria Embankment.
LONDON BASE: Astor’s townhouse at Two Temple Place
Two Temple Place, his eccentric gothic mansion overlooking the Thames, was completed in 1895 and was used as a London townhouse and office from which he would manage his extensive holdings.
The following year he purchased the stunning country estate at Cliveden in Buckinghamshire from the Duke of Westminster, with its far-reaching views high above the River Thames.
SWEEPING VIEWS: looking over the Thames at Cliveden
There he remodelled many of the rooms, enlarged the Great Hall and installed an East Asian themed water garden.
Having developed a love of classical sculpture during his years in Italy working as the equivalent of American ambassador, he brought many pieces to Cliveden and created the Long Garden with its topiary to display some of his Italian statuary.
MARBLE MARVEL: the Fountain of Love
When Waldorf Astor married Nancy Langhorne in 1906 and received Cliveden from his father as a wedding gift, the estate entered a glittering new era as the venue for many parties and one of the centres of European political and literary life. In 1919, Nancy would become the first woman to take a seat as a Member of Parliament.
Meanwhile in 1903, Astor had acquired the 3,500-acre Hever Castle estate near Edenbridge in Kent, including the 13th-century castle where Anne Boleyn lived as a child.
CHILDHOOD HOME: Anne Boleyn lived at Hever Castle
Here, he invested a great deal of time and money in restoring the castle, creating a lake and lavish gardens, including an Italian Garden to display his collection of statues.
GRAND DESIGN: the lake at Hever Castle
Both Cliveden and Hever Castle remain open to the public interested in finding out more about the Astor legacy, but back in London, the quirky building at Two Temple Place is perhaps less well known.
OPEN HOUSE: Heritage Open Days visitors
Popular with visitors at the annual Heritage Open Days festival each September, the Grade II* listed building is now home to the Bulldog Trust, founded in 1983 to offer support and advice to charities facing immediate financial difficulties, as well as establishing the house as a space devoted to showcasing regional museums and collections and opening up access to the arts.
Free annual exhibition, education, events and volunteer programmes have run since 2011.
The next exhibition, The Weight of Being, opens in January 2026 and explores the ways in which external pressures shape artistic expression, mental health and resilience, highlighting the power of art as a means of expression, resistance and survival.
LOOKING UP: the stained-glass skylight at Two Temple Place
FEW sounds are more cheering and comforting than the honking overhead of geese in flight.
At this time of year it’s a reminder that colder weather is on the way – and of the miracle of avian migration when millions of birds converge on the British Isles on their long-haul journeys around the globe.
ON THE WING: wild Canada geese PICTURE: Tim Melling
For bird lovers, it’s a favourite time to visit the estuaries and headlands where the migrating flocks feed and rest, escaping the freezing conditions of the Arctic, perhaps, or passing through on their way to North Africa.
For sentimental souls, it’s perhaps a time to recall a melancholy masterpiece written by a young Sandy Denny more than half a century ago which some consider to be among the saddest songs of all time.
In three brief verses, the 19-year-old managed to create an extraordinarily poignant reflection on the passage of time prompted by the sight of departing birds:
Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving, But how can they know, it’s time for them to go? Before the winter fire, I will still be dreaming, I have no thought of time.
Who Knows Where The Time Goes? featured on a number of albums, including versions with The Strawbs and Fairport Convention, and became her best-known composition, as well as the final song she would perform at a charity concert before her untimely death at the age of 31.
The song’s focus on timeless natural events provides a perfect backcloth for anyone reflecting on life and loss, and while some may find it a lament that conjures up feelings of regret and sorrow, for others the ballad may feel like a more uplifting call to savour what time we have with our loved ones, living each moment to the full.
Looking up at the geese passing overhead reminds us that September and October witness one of nature’s most amazing bird spectacles, as the seasonal migration sees millions of birds flying south, east and west around the British Isles.
For fans of Sandy Denny and Fairport Convention there’s an extra layer of emotion in the mixture of power and fragility that can be detected in the voice of a troubled young woman hailed by many as the foremost British folk-rock singer/songwriter of her time but whose legacy lives on in her haunting voice and lyrics:
So come the storms of winter, and then the birds in spring again, I have no fear of time.
For who knows, how my love grows? And who knows, where the time goes?
SAD DESERTED SHORE: Avocet Sunset PICTURE: Tim Melling
LONDON’S legal enclaves are home to some of the capital’s best-kept secrets.
The tranquil courts and squares of the four inns of court are self-contained precincts so well hidden from prying eyes that few tourists stumble across their subtle entrances.
Find the right path and wander into the peaceful oasis of Lincoln’s Inn, however, and you might stumble across a tiny, ornate structure that harks back to the era of horse-drawn traffic.
It’s easy to overlook amid the imposing silhouettes of the buildings that tower over it: like other inns of court, Lincoln’s Inn looks for all the world like an Oxford college, complete with dining room, library, chapel and professional accommodation – the traditional requirements for any formal legal training.
IMPOSING: the great hall and library at Lincoln’s Inn
It’s only a stone’s throw from the bustling thoroughfares of High Holborn, Kingsway and Fleet Street, but this is another world, eleven peaceful acres where barristers have learned their trade for centuries.
And here, amid the collegiate buildings, barristers’ chambers, commercial premises and residential apartments, stands the diminutive Ostler’s Hut, an unassuming reminder of a bygone world where horse-drawn traffic was the primary mode of transport for both people and goods.
When the hut was built in 1860, London’s streets were awash with horse-drawn traffic, from wagons and carts to horse-bus services, trams and private carriages.
And though the nearby Royal Courts of Justice had yet to be built, this tiny edifice provided shelter for the “ostler” responsible for tending the horses of the inn’s lawyers and guests.
HIDDEN GEM: the Ostler’s Hut in Lincoln’s Inn
While the advent of automobiles would eventually render the role obsolete, for half a century or so the 13ft by 10ft “hut”, with its charming fireplace, provided a welcome all-weather refuge for the horse handlers serving their wealthy legal clientele.
Noawadays it lays claim to being London’s smallest listed building (Grade II), though naturally that title is hotly contested, not least by the Lilliputian stone police box in Trafalgar Square built in the 1920s to serve as a watch-post over London’s unruly protesters and with room only for a single officer.
Armed with a direct telephone line to Scotland Yard and castle-style slits in the walls to keep an eye on any rioters, it’s said that when the officer picked up the phone to call for backup, the light on top of the tiny station would flash like a beacon to alert other nearby officers.
Whichever building actually holds the prize for having the most modest dimensions, the Ostler’s Hut should win the prize for being the prettiest, particularly since its careful refurbishment, which included meticulous repairs to the timber and brickwork.
You may not be able to hear the clip-clop of horses’ hooves echoing around Lincoln’s Inn any more, but lean up close against these bricks and you can almost imagine that you can…
IT’S Teddy the labrador’s second birthday and it’s hard to conceive what the house would feel like without him.
Our inquisitive black bundle of fun has matured into a 40kg Tigger-like high-energy presence: infinitely curious, hugely well meaning and still demonstrating a perversely independent streak at the most inopportune moments.
On the plus side, he still sleeps contentedly through the night in his den, has the gentlest of mouths and is, we are reassured by all who know him, a “sweet boy” who doesn’t appear to have a nasty bone in his body.
He’s never snarled in anger and will patiently let puppies clamber over him, children pet him and more boisterous friends nibble, pester or bounce all over him.
Despite a couple of unpleasant bites from jealous assailants before he was chemically castrated earlier in the year, he’s shown neither fear nor resentment towards grumpy or barky dogs, although it’s taken him time to learn how to take a more cautious approach towards unfamiliar canines and learn that not all human strangers want a huge black beast careering towards them at high speed determined to make their acquaintance.
There are a dozen things we should be grateful for: he doesn’t howl or bark, for example, or nip ankles, bite fingers or hump visitors’ legs.
He’s even learned not to stare beseechingly at us when we eat a meal and from a young age he’s known how to ring a bell by the door when he needs to go out for a wee or a poo.
But recall is still a challenge – despite our persistent efforts to encourage him not to race off to explore the nearest fascinating distraction, be it human or canine. From Day One, he’s demonstrated that boundless bouncy enthusiasm that labrador owners recognise only too well.
And while smaller cockapoos and poodles with their tiny paws and winning grins can perhaps get away with an audacious leap at a passing stranger, 40kg labradors cannot count on the patience and understanding of random passers-by.
Apart from the embarrassment factor, there are genuine safety risks involved when a large dog bounces at someone young or infirm, never mind smaller, older dogs with health problems.
To celebrate his birthday, we have finally graduated from his harness to a slip lead, and it’s been a heartwarming transition.
He never really approved of his smart blue body harness, but it played a crucial role in preventing him from pulling like a train on walks, the two-clip attachments limiting his capacity to yank you off your feet.
Likewise, the Halti headcollar was no silver bullet to the lead-pulling problem, but an invaluable part of the training process, particularly important with a powerful dog like Ted, who joined our family too late for those crucial initial puppy obedience classes.
Using a slip lead wasn’t possible when he was younger and would bolt like a greyhound out of a trap at any intriguing passer-by – and the prospect of neck or whiplash injuries was a serious deterrent.
But now that his loose-lead walking is so much better, the slip lead is a lot more practical: and it’s almost as if he’s proud of being trusted more. He certainly looks more excited at the prospect of a walk, and slipping it on and off is infinitely easier and less stressful than getting him into the harness.
But recall still isn’t guaranteed – and as one trainer pointed out, if you haven’t got 100% recall you haven’t got recall at all.
He’s undoubtedly making progress, though – and the number of successful stress-free off-lead outings has dramatically increased since he’s been able to use the slip lead.
Reliable canine role models are hard to come by but spending time off lead with a favourite friend is a perfect way to expend all that excess energy.
But of course the whole process is a learning curve, and back when tiny Teddy first arrived we might not have realised quite how long it would take to get to this stage.
We’re making good progress and even strangers in the park comment on how much calmer he has become since they first saw him.
Yes, there’s a long way still to go. But despite all the hard work, Teddy’s firmly part of the family now and we wouldn’t have it any other way, however long it takes to turn him into a model canine citizen.
IT’S 6am, the sun is shining and Teddy the labrador has joined me for our morning litter-pick of the local nature reserve.
It’s not a demanding task. The odd flyaway sweet wrapper, perhaps, or rogue poo bag fluttering in the undergrowth.
But it’s still worth the early morning patrol to try to keep the paths pristine, because litter has a way of spreading exponentially. And this is such a serene, special place, no one wants to see it turn into one of those litter-strewn “green spaces” that blight so many cities and towns.
It helped that we were able to scour the area properly back on those dark, dreary winter days when the foliage had died back and few people were around.
Getting the chance to clear away those larger, longer-established or half-buried bottles and cans makes it a lot easier to spot an unfamiliar glint of plastic or glass amid the greenery.
If you hate litter and fly-tipping, it’s tempting to get a little A Man Called Ove about protecting this local beauty spot, and it’s hard not to get angry with those who seem only too happy to despoil our little corner of paradise.
But although there ARE a handful of selfish souls who seem oblivious to the need to protect such pretty surroundings, it’s important to step back a little and remember just how well used the nature reserve and adjoining park are.
Literally dozens of dog walkers use these paths, along with joggers and families out for a stroll. Youngsters build dens in the woods, teenagers practise bike tricks and young couples walk hand in hand among the trees.
The park itself hosts countless football practice sessions, weekend cricket matches and floodlit tennis in the evenings. Dogs of all sizes and breeds are exercised here, and most owners are assiduous about picking up their poo.
All of which means that it’s not surprising if that odd crisp packet flies away and gets lodged in the nettles. What’s more remarkable, perhaps, is that SO many people can use the space without it being turned into a litter-strewn wastleland.
That’s no accident, of course, but the result of a combined community effort by nearly everyone who shares the space.
It helps that it’s SUCH a beautiful location, with the Wye chalkstream running alongside both the park and the nature reserve, providing the perfect habitat for swans and egrets and a glorious backdrop for an evening stroll.
Wood pigeons provide a constant coo-cooing soundscape, jays bury acorns in the woods, blackbirds rootle among the leaf litter.
But keeping the place clean depends on the football coaches and school sports day organisers too, making sure the youngsters take their litter home – not to mention the rangers from Wooburn Green and Bourne End Parish Council who do such an amazing job of maintaining the park and nature reserve, and keeping the litter and poo bins emptied all year round.
Yes, there are a handful of souls who let the side down: the couple of dog owners who let their pooches foul the footpaths or frighten the swans; the occasional drinker in the woods who leaves their vodka miniatures, beer cans and broken bottles behind; the workman who ate his chip supper right by the gate to the nature reserve and left all the wrappings swirling in the gutter, just feet from the bin.
It’s hard to understand the mentality of picknickers who would enjoy the peaceful surroundings of a beautiful bench in the woods, only to leave all the plastic trappings of their Tesco mini sausages and watermelon wedges scattered across the area.
It’s even harder to credit the motorist spotted from a distance clearing out all the debris from her car to leave it scattered across the road at the entrance to the Warren. But if it’s hard to control the seething anger such acts of selfishness provoke, it’s not the real story of the community who love this place.
Barely had the music blaring from her car windows echoed into the distance before a small group of local children had pitched up with gloves and bags to pick up her mess and deposit it in the nearby bins.
It’s a shame she wasn’t there to witness their spontaneous good deed, though I’m not sure that she would have appreciated or even understood it. But Ove would have been proud of them.
Well, when I say “bought”, I mean I’ve made the first of several dozen payments towards eventually owning the vehicle.
And it’s not that I’m amassing a collection, just that this is the latest in a long line of four-wheeled acquisitions spanning almost half a century of driving.
NEW ACQUISITION: the Vauxhall Combo Life
In some small ways it’s a motoring milestone – my first ever van-style people carrier (a grey Vauxhall Combo Life with about 15,000 miles on the clock) and perhaps the last car I will be able to buy before having to pass the government’s proposed compulsory eye tests for older motorists.
It’s also roughly the 20th car I’ve owned in the process of racking up around a million miles on the road, prompting fond memories of those earlier investments, good and bad, which play such a big part in our lives without us fully realising it.
They may be inanimate hunks of metal to many, but for millions car ownership is a hobby bordering on an obsession, spanning more than a century of motoring technology, from those first open-top tourers of the 1900s through the sleek Monte Carlo Rally racers of the 1930s and the glorious chrome-encrusted Buicks, Cadillacs and Oldsmobiles of the 1950s to the throaty roar of a 21st-century supercar.
OPEN ROAD: touring Wales in 1986
“The poetry of motion! The real way to travel! O poop-poop!” raved Toad in The Wind in the Willows.
And generations of teenagers have dreamed of the lure of the open road, the freedom that passing your driving test can offer you – presuming you have enough money to buy and run a car, given the cost of modern insurance premiums.
Our cars form a quiet backdrop to our lives, rarely taking centre stage in our photo albums but an essential part of our daily commute, weekend outings and family holidays.
QUIET BACKDROP: cars play an essential role in our lives
Repairs, breakdowns and accidents may pepper our nightmares, yet we yearn for the open road and flood across the Channel in our thousands every summer to roam the backroads and medieval towns of continental Europe.
We all have a soft spot for that very first car, of course, however humble, and mine was hard won – a light blue Austin 1100 I bought for £200 from a South African when I first passed my test in May 1979.
HSE 981H seemed to be in pretty good condition for a nine-year-old car, paid for with wages amassed during a three-month summer job on a gas pipelaying barge off the coast of Argentina.
Sadly, that showroom sparkle didn’t last long. When joyriders took it for a spin in Glasgow it didn’t take too long to track it down, but the police left it with the windows down until we were able to trek to Rutherglen to pick it up.
The carpets were drenched – and a week’s rain-soaked holiday in the Highlands meant the sodden carpets needed to be thrown out, leaving the rust-covered chassis floor bare.
Its successor was a smart-looking trendsetter built in 1975. HSA 498N was a Peugeot 304 saloon in Alaskan white with comfortable velour-trimmed seats and a spacious interior.
But a year or two spent on an Aberdeenshire farm at Udny was enough to reduce the car to a shell of its former self. The farm track to our cottage ran uphill and in winter became a treacherous toboggan run with a kink halfway up.
To reach the cottage meant attaining sufficient momentum to bounce gently off the snow walls cleared by the farm tractor and glide to the cottage door. Too slow, and you slid back down the incline and had to start again.
RAPID DEMISE: the Peugeot 304 saloon
Like many models of its era, the 304 was not designed to cope with the salt and snow of an intense Scottish winter, never mind such rough treatment. Its demise was as rapid as it was inevitable, so badly rusted that if not wedged into position the driver’s side window would drop clear through the door sill onto the road and need to be awkwardly manoeuvred back into place by hand.
Perhaps it’s no surprise that only a couple of 304 saloons survive to this day of the million that flowed off French production lines. And I’m apparently not the only owner to bemoan Peugeot’s less than impressive anti-corrosion techniques of the 1970s.
One long-standing enthusiast who tracked down a surviving 304 to restore recalls how his first ever car was almost identical to mine: “Unfortunately it turned to dust over the four years I owned it, when the cost of welding finally exceeded its worth.”
Another much-loved but ill-fated purchase came in the dramatic wedge-shaped outline of the futuristic Austin Princess, an altogether more desirable product than the much-criticised Morris Marina and Austin Allegro which would become symbols of the crisis facing Britain’s struggling motor industry in the 1970s.
In terms of cabin space and interior fittings, the luxurious 2200 HLS wedge, decked out in glorious British racing green, cut quite a dash. But British Leyland build quality and reliability ensured it would not stand the test of time.
A mixed bag of other models would replace it during the early 1980s, choices mostly dictated by price rather than desirability. The worst? In terms of driving experience, undoubtedly a horrid orange Polski Fiat 125 whose bargain-basement price tag couldn’t compensate for the car’s dated feel and achingly lacklustre performance and handling.
It wasn’t the outright cheapest acquisition, though – that honour went to a humble blue Vauxhall Viva virtually donated by a friend from the Isle of Man. Other brief acquisitions included a lumbering big old Volvo 240 estate and a blue Escort estate that thrummed like a Tube train because of problems with the transmission which were never resolved.
HOLIDAY TOAST: Portugal in 1985
By the mid-1980s, a firm favourite was a luxurious old Volvo 264 saloon from 1977 – OES 133R. Decked out in green metallic with electric windows, leather seats and bags of interior space, this was one of those rare older models that was always a delight to drive.
The bouncy ride harked back to some of the huge old limousines I’d ogled on a grand tour of North America, while the smell of polished leather reminded me of our family’s very first car, an ancient grey Wolseley 16/60 saloon I was allowed to sneak into the garage to play in as a child.
Something of a forgotten 60s classic, those Wolseley saloons boasted a huge steering wheel, burnished wood fascia and a colourful array of lights at night – not to mention the illuminated bonnet badge that was a hallmark of the marque from the 1930s.
But I digress. My beloved Volvo saloon may have been my eighth car, but in 1982 an unusual career twist saw me increasingly taking on the role of motoring correspondent for the Aberdeen Evening Express, starting with the inauspicious launch of an inauspicious car – the Austin Ambassador, a replacement for my beloved Princess of old.
The car was only produced for a couple of years, paving the way for the arrival of the Montego, and was only produced in right-hand drive and never exported, making it a relatively rare sight.
But for me it would herald the first chapter in a writing career that allowed me to drive pretty much every new car on the market over the next 20 years, on and off.
From the Manta, Orion, Uno and Prisma of those early years to Ferraris and Maseratis, I could get a taste of the best and worst cars on the road, jet-setting around the world in the process to join other motoring hacks at a succession of model launches.
ITALIAN STYLE: test-driving a Maserati in 1996
By 1986 I was in Finland with Ford, Switzerland with Rover and Lisbon with Toyota, yet away from those wonderful weekly test drives of new models, my own cars were pedestrian by comparison.
In 1988 I was driving Ford’s new Cosworth on the streets of Sicily and Toyota’s new Camry round Avignon in France – but back at home my latest acquisition was a humble silver Escort, my first car with a registration sporting the new prefix letters introduced with A in 1983 and running through to Y in 2001, when the current 01/51 numbering system was launched.
Poor old B137 KSS – someone ran into the back of it a couple of days after I bought it and it was never quite the same again.
Leaving Aberdeen for a new job with the BBC in Glasgow meant bidding a fond farewell to the other members of the Association of Scottish Motoring Writers and, for a few years, the chance to put new cars to the test.
MADRID LAUNCH: the Renault 19 in 1989
The decade had ended looking at the new Renault 19 in Madrid, the Peugeot 405 in Sardinia and the Seat Ibiza in Barcelona, but to add insult to injury, my own car was now the most unsuccessful investment of my car-buying career, a hopelessly unreliable green Fiat Regata Estate, C95 PSO, that depreciated like a stone.
Dubbed the Fiat Regreta by some other disconsolate owners, painful memories of the unfortunate vehicle take me briefly down an internet rabbit hole to forums where drivers discuss their worst-ever cars.
The language is predictably ripe in places, but making mistakes over the second biggest investment of our lives can leave indelible scars. And there are some belting reminiscences too among the unprintable abuse about heaters that won’t turn off, horrible knocking sounds, uncomfortable seats and violent shaking at more than the most modest speeds.
Or as one Metro owner recalled: “The E stood for economy. Since it didn’t really run when it was rainy, I ended up walking a few times when I had hoped to drive, which was, in a sense, economical. It was an utterly, utterly shite car.”
Vauxhall’s 1.4 Astra comes in for some stick too: “I would say it felt like a boat, but I’ve piloted and sailed boats that handle better and wallow less.”
Other contenders include the Montego automatic seven-seater estate for being “the slowest, least economical car I have ever owned” or the Datsun Sunny where “the time taken from stone chip to rust hole was actually faster than the 0-60 time”.
Some cars were damp, noisy and cold, others bland and soulless and one even spontaneously burst into flames and shut the M1. Complaints ranged from wailing wind noise to lethal cornering and woeful fuel economy.
Perhaps pride of place goes to the disgruntled Renault 19 owner who wrote: “No brakes at all, no grip, no comfort, feel, space, less luxury than communist Russia…”
Such experiences scar us for a generation – just as I could never bring myself to buy a Peugeot again, despite the rust problems of the 1980s being endemic to most vehicles of the period, I remained suspicious of Fiats long after the manufacturer redeemed itself with a series of classic designs like the reinvented retro 500, which remains one of the most recognisable shapes on the road.
Back in Glasgow, the Regata was replaced with a jelly-mould dark blue Sierra purchased from a cheery couple of chaps who resembled the Mitchell brothers of EastEnders fame.
But as luck would have it, the car was pranged on a test drive by a woman who emerged from a side street without checking – and whose husband was so abusive and scary to everyone around that the Mitchells chose not to pursue her for the insurance but to respray it themselves, at no cost.
Great in theory, but the respray appeared to have taken place in the midst of a Sahara dust storm and the car never quite recovered its pristine appearance. Unkempt but reliable, it accompanied us to Bath when I took up a new job at the Evening Chronicle in 1992 – then one of the smallest daily papers in the country and then based in Dickensian-style offices a stone’s-throw from the wonderful Abbey.
By chance, it wouldn’t be long before I was celebrating a return to motoring writing with the veteran racing driver Stirling Moss whizzing me down a Spanish mountain to mark the launch of the Mercedes SLK sports car, with its eye-catching red leather seats and white instrument panels.
SPORTING PROMISE: the Mercedes SLK in Malaga
For a few more years there would be no need to replace the pebble-dashed Sierra, this time teaming up with the western group of motoring writers to jet around Europe trying out the cars that other people will be buying.
In 1997 we’re at the Trevi fountain in Rome with Daihatsu, trying out the Move before heading off to Toulouse to test the new Megane Scenic and Malaga for the Freelander.
In truth there are too many to list or remember, though some five-star hotels are spectacular and some locations breathtaking – from the Italian lakes to ice driving in Lapland when temperatures plummeted to -50 degrees and our plane was frozen to the runway.
FROZEN SOLID: ice driving with Volvo in 1999
The decade draws to a close with another flurry of outings abroad, from Nice and Amsterdam to Palma and Bilbao, Strasbourg and Lisbon.
Back in the real world I take up a new job in Cardiff for the millennium and spend a couple of years commuting from Bath, now producing motoring copy for a series of weekly papers across the Welsh valleys from Neath to Ebbw Vale.
In 2001 I inherit my father’s faded red Nissan Micra, M145 LWN and manage to boost the mileage to over 61,000 before the abject mortification of driving such an “old person’s car” becomes too great.
Going freelance in 2002 and spending much more time on the road means having to invest in a more modern and reliable car that can cope with daily forays up and down the M4.
A series of car finance deals will see me take the wheel of some brand new cars of my own for the first time – starting with a grey Ford Focus Chic, WV52 WKT, in 2002.
A year and 11,000 miles later and I can switch to a black Ford Focus Ink, WU53 RZK, which will rack up over 41,000 miles in the next three years. A brace of silver 2.0 litre mid-life crisis Hyundai Coupes follow between 2006 and 2008 – RJ05 NFD and EO06 0EB – putting another 40,000 miles on the clock.
But then it’s time to settle down a bit. Having moved to London, I no longer need to be on the motorway all the time, and “Henry” is an amenable Hyundai i10 1.2 litre hatchback which will become my trusted steed for the best part of a decade.
TRUSTED STEED: “Henry” stands the test of time
My sister will find such a humble car a bit of a comedown for a motoring writer, but RJ58 RXH survives my move from Maida Vale to Buckinghamshire and racks up a pretty respectable mileage in the process, without complaint.
My wife Olivia’s white Seat Ibiza Toca has proved a similarly sound investment, still going strong more than a decade later with some 90,000 miles on the clock.
But with both cars showing their age and fully paid off, it’s perhaps time to upgrade before Henry finally collapses with exhaustion.
At this point a switch to Skoda proves a successful decision, with a pair of Karoq SUVs offering several years of rewarding driving between them. LR68 FYK and LS71 KXV are a delight to drive, the latter decked out rather majestically in a striking dark blue.
DRIVING DELIGHT: the Skoda Karoq
By this point I’ve long since stopped writing about new cars, but the opportunity to get behind the wheel of so many different vehicles over the years has been both an honour and a privilege.
Never a true petrolhead like many of my journalist colleagues, I was always conscious that my readers were often more concerned about the practical realities of owning the car in question, rather than the Top Gear obsession with roaring engines and 0-60mph times.
And owning and running so many un-exotic models myself helped to ground those test drives in reality: living with a vehicle all year round facing the daily challenges of rising fuel prices, poor handling or frequent breakdowns is a very different experience from the razzamatazz of an international car launch, with its pristine models polished and primed by a team of valets and engineers.
Climate change concerns too were impacting on the industry, along with a growing awareness that the idea of flying a couple of hundred journalists to an exotic foreign location to test drive a new model might not generate the good publicity one might wish for.
It was also never a full-time job for me, making it a luxury to dip into that high-octane world occasionally rather than face an exhausting marathon of international flights between launches and motor shows on a daily basis, dogged by inevitable delays and flight diversions.
But of course it was a delight to get the chance to drive a brand new car in the Mediterranean sunshine without having to worry about fuel costs or breakdowns: to spend a day or two in Sicily or Sardinia out of season, perhaps, or pootle round Seville, Gerona or Madrid.
From driving a gleaming Alfa Romeo on desert roads in Morocco to exploring Rome, Milan or Copenhagen, or zig-zagging through the mountains above Salzburg or Baden-Baden on a summer’s day, those snapshots crowd in on the memory.
SEASIDE RENDEZVOUS: with Alfa Romeo in Morocco
So why now, in 2025, the switch to Vauxhall, and what is at heart a van design, with twin sliding doors? The answer lies in our four-footed black labrador and the one big drawback of the Karoq as far as dog owners are concerned, that the rear seats don’t fold completely flat.
Step in the Combo Life – perhaps our last chance to snap up a petrol model before the electric revolution that is sweeping car showrooms but hasn’t extended to our street, where there is no access to easy home charging. For now, petrol wins the day – and after a couple of thousand miles, the little Vauxhall has been ticking all the right boxes.
Enormously spacious, it’s soaked up furniture deliveries and trips to the tip. But most of all, it’s proved popular with our indomitable hound. Is it stupid to buy a car based on a labrador’s needs? Maybe – but then, try fitting 40kg of black lab into a small hatchback and the decision doesn’t seem so daft.
SITTING PRETTY: Ted the labrador
There we are then – the 20th car I’ve owned, at a rough count, and so far one that’s definitely brought a smile to our faces. The flexible seating is a definite plus and its performance has been lively, with the ride nothing like as van-like as we might have expected.
Just as well. We won’t be trading this one in any time soon, so here’s hoping it lives up to its early promise and becomes a car we want to remember, adding some more cherished memories of motoring adventures to the many that have gone before . . .
IN South Stoke near Goring-on-Thames in Oxfordshire you will find a foopath known locally as The Postman’s Path. It heads from South Stoke in a determined straight line to the village of Ipsden.
It is one of probably hundreds of paths throughout Britain known as ‘postman’s paths’. They are a memory of a golden age when rural postmen and postwomen strode out on foot (and sometimes bike) to deliver mail to even the most remote farms and homes.
STRAIGHT LINE: the path from South Stoke to Ipsden
My journey to find out about these paths and the people who walked them began in 2019 when a farmer advised I take the postman’s path back to the village of Caldbeck in Cumbria.
I am a lover of footpaths, particularly those with a tale to tell. I have written in the past about corpse roads, lonnings, smugglers’ paths, vicar’s walks, beggars’ trods and many other examples of Britain’s wonderful walking heritage. But until 2019, I had never come across postman’s paths.
The farmer explained it was a path that the rural postman used to shortcut between farms. The delivery routes are now all covered by van but the farmer said the path and its name had remained – along with the postman’s steps installed into the drystone wall to help the postman clamber over.
WALK THIS WAY: postman’s steps
I was intrigued and a quick Google showed they were indeed ‘a thing’. Many villages had their ‘postman’s path’, including South Stoke, although sadly most locals could not recall precisely why they had that name or who was the postman or woman who had walked it.
My five-year search for their history has resulted in a new book, The Postal Paths, published by Monoray – and it will hopefully inspire ramblers and historians to research further their local examples.
VALLEY VIEWS: walking the postal path at Shap in Cumbria
I discovered the village short-cuts were just small stretches of the longer daily routes walked by rural postmen. These routes were 10 or 12 miles long but I came across many which stretched to 20 miles or more.
That is 20 miles walked each day, six days a week in all weathers for a postman often in service for much of his or her working life. I have even found a couple of paths nudging 30 miles a day. Most, of course, traverse some of Britain’s most beautiful countryside.
FOND MEMORIES: Stuart Lewis, the last postman to walk the 15-mile Shap route in 1976, with the leather pouch he carried to sell stamps and postal orders
Many were circular – starting and ending at the village post office but others were linear, the postie resting at the end of the route in a simple corrugated shed known as a postman’s hut, which contained a wooden bench and pot-bellied stove. Fewer than a dozen of these huts are still standing.
Why not just head back straight away? Well, it was custom for the postman to deliver letters in the morning, then for people to write a reply and catch the postman on his return in the afternoon to give him their letters containing the replies. The postman sold them stamps, weighted parcels and even blew a whistle or rang a bell to let villagers know he was available to take their mail.
SPECIAL DELIVERY: author Alan Cleaver posts a handwritten letter
Postmen walked the existing footpaths and roads where possible but created – officially or unofficially – the shortcuts that became known as postman’s paths in order to shave a mile or two off their route.
Vans took over in the late 1960s and early 1970s and the paths ceased to have any purpose, although in one or two places – notably Scotland – they have been turned into tourist trails commemorating the public servants who walked hundreds of miles each year ensuring we received our mail.
REMOTE ROUTE: the postal path to Rhenigidale on the Isle of Harris
Most of the rural posties are sadly now dead but a few survive and they kindly shared their routes and tales with me. Sadly, official records of the routes are as rare as hen’s teeth.
SHARED STORIES: postwoman Mary Hunter served the Staffordshire village of Flash in the 1940s. She died in April 2025
It would be wonderful if other paths were rescued before they vanish through the floorboards of history. So, if you’re looking for a good excuse to go walking or a chance to preserve some valuable social history, seek out your local postal paths and I’ll add them to my growing database.
Alan Cleaver is a journalist and author living in Whitehaven, Cumbria. He spends his spare time walking the footpaths of Britain, particularly those that have a good story or legend associated with them. Postal Paths was published in April 2025
WE’RE in rural Buckinghamshire but the station is frozen in time, taking us back to Cambridgeshire in the 1960s.
There’s the unmistakeable sound of a steam train puffing up the incline, but passengers wandering along the platform can also spot the odd emu or wallaby and hear the cry of a peacock.
FROZEN IN TIME: waiting for a train at Fawley Hill
Like Alice in Wonderland, you could be forgiven for feeling a little disorientated by the unexpected and slightly surreal surroundings, but that’s quite a common sensation among guests to Fawley Hill outside Henley.
Once described by Country Life magazine as the most bonkers estate in Britain, it is home to a restored Victorian railway station, the steepest standard gauge railway track in the world, a railway museum and more than 20 animal species.
SURREAL: the surroundings can be disorientating
It all began as a “small-scale” hobby of the late Sir William McAlpine, great-grandson of the engineer and construction company boss Sir Robert McAlpine. “Bill” had been given a plot of land on his father’s estate in 1959 and the company’s architect set about designing Fawley Hill, which was built in 1960.
Back on the platform at Somersham station a small tank locomotive has pulled in with a couple of brake vans for the short trip down the hill that will give visitors a better idea of the scale of the whimsical realm created by Sir William and Lady McAlpine.
ROUND TRIP: a steam train at Somersham
Along the route are landmarks ranging from massive station facades (from Broad Street and Ludgate Hill), station arches from Waterloo and even a huge England-Scotland border sign.
The half-mile trip also provides a chance to meet some of the extensive menagerie of animals which roam the estate.
DOWNHILL TRIP: the Hill Line from Somersham
You pass under a footbridge from the Isle of Wight, a Midland Railway signalbox and a circle of columns which once graced the undercroft of St Pancras station. There’s a stone frontage from a parcels depot in Cardiff and an ornate cast-iron crest from Blackfriars Bridge in London.
For train enthusiasts, it’s a veritable treasure trove. Those large-scale relics in the grounds are gathered from all over the UK and beyond, but it’s the museum here which demonstrates the true scale of McAlpine’s fascination with railway memorabilia.
DEPARTURE BOARD: trains from Brighton
From the huge old wooden departure board which once stood in Brighton station to countless signs, paintings, maps, coats of arms, models, clocks…it contains a truly mind-boggling array of all types of memorabilia from the heydays of Britain’s railway network.
Over more than half a century he gathered together thousands of items which might have been lost or scrapped, playing a major role in rescuing the Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway in Kent when it was in danger of closing, as well as the Ffestiniog and Dart Valley Railways.
He also saved the famous LNER Flying Scotsman locomotive 4472, buying the engine, paying off creditors and repatriating it from the United States two years after an ill-fated American tour had bankrupted its previous owner and led to it being impounded in San Francisco.
TREASURE TROVE: a model railway in the museum
He and his second wife, Lady Judy, married at Somersham station in 2004 and the self-styled “mad redhead” has continued to make it possible for guests to explore his cherished collection since his death in 2018, helped by a small army of enthusiastic volunteers who are clearly devoted to her.
Our visit is on one of the regular open days organised for volunteers to show their families and friends what they get up to at Fawley Hill and there are smiles everywhere, as my neighbour points out.
“It’s a happy place,” he says as we survey the cheerful throng milling around the museum and station yard. “Whenever you’re here you see people smiling.”
HAPPY PLACE: Fawley Hill is staffed by volunteers
The enthusiasm is infectious. He stumbled across the estate while out walking, when he was bemused to hear the sound of a steam train puffing up a gradient, and on discovering the existence of Fawley Hill, immediately signed up as a volunteer.
Days on the estate start with the feeding of the assorted animals which live here, from meerkats and lemurs to sika deer and playful emus.
“To see so many different animals milling around you, being remarkably polite to each other and to you, is surreal,” admits Lady Judy.
Bill became involved with the Zoological Society of London (ZSL) when he built the narrow-gauge railway at Whipsnade, and started taking surplus zoo animals soon after.
With zoos constantly moving animals around to prevent inbreeding and conserve species which are dying out in the wild, there comes a point where “spare” animals need to be housed, which is when Fawley Hill may be able to help.
“Here they live virtually wild,” says Lady Judy. “We feed each day and there are plenty of houses and shelters but none are allocated and no one makes the animals ‘go to bed’ at night.”
The house itself is hidden away from prying eyes, though we know from articles in Tatler and elsewhere that it is every bit as disarmingly eccentric as the rest of the estate.
It boasts a hall hung with dozens of hats, a dining table dominated by a miniature train track with a tiny locomotive that delivers condiments to guests and a playroom stacked with every imaginable toy, not to mention a life-size Elvis and a folding floor that is a gigantic map of England.
FANTASY LAND: Fawley Hill Railway
Back at Somersham station, there’s time to take a final survey of the surreal surroundings before heading back to the outside world and reality: less colourful, entertaining and smile-inducing than the exotic fantasy land of Fawley Hill.
FOR railway enthusiasts visiting the Fawley Hill home of the late Sir William McAlpine, some of the most striking exhibits in his extraordinary collection line the trackside of the garden railway that grew to be the centrepiece of life on the estate.
HIDDEN TREASURE: the Fawley Hill Railway
When in 1965 Bill bought the last remaining steam engine owned by the construction company founded by his great-grandfather, there was only a short stretch of track for it to stand on.
All that was to change over the next few years with the laying of tracks along the valley floor linking to a new “Hill line” with a remarkable 1 in 13 gradient up to a station area where a platform was being built.
RELOCATED: Somersham station
The station buildings comprise a waiting room and offices from Somersham station, which stood on the St Ives to March line in Cambridgeshire and was once part of the Great Eastern Railway network.
Somersham became a junction in 1889 with the opening of a new line to Ramsey and it’s thought the buildings at Fawley date from that period, the station having closed to passengers in 1967 and fallen into disrepair.
In 1977 the buildings were carefully taken to pieces for painstaking rebuilding and restoration at Fawley Hill, although sharp-eyed visitors will notice adornments from Clapham Junction, Cardiff Riverside and Liverpool Street stations.
STORE: the tunnel at Somersham
The tunnel at the end of the short platforms was constructed in the 1960s as an engine shed and now acts as a store for rolling stock after a purpose-built shed was completed in the yard.
Everywhere you look there’s a sign or other artefact to grab your eye.
PLEASING PROSPECT: the view from the platform
We’re waiting for our train to arrive, and today it’s a guest engine on temporary loan from the Foxfield Railway in Staffordshire, a little tank engine owned and lovingly restored by Jack Dibnah, son of the celebrity steeplejack and TV personality Fred Dibnah.
SPECIAL GUEST: Jack Dibnah’s saddletank
It’s a temporary replacement for Fawley Hill’s resident Hudswell Clarke 0-6-0 saddle tank, No 31, the first steam engine to arrive here back in 1965, which is currently undergoing a major overhaul.
Built in 1926 by Kerr, Stuart & Co to shunt coal wagons for a gas works at Etruria in Stoke-on-Trent, the tiny visiting saddletank no 4388 was sold on to a local foundry and when rail traffic ceased there in 1962 lay in a corner of the yard for 20 years before being sold to the Foxfield Railway.
GAS WORKS LOCO: 4388 was built in 1926
It was restored to steam and ran until 1999, when it needed a full overhaul. Bought in 2020 by Jack Dibnah, the engine feels very much at home at Fawley Hill, alternating or pairing up on trips with the resident BR Class 03 diesel shunter no D2120.
RESIDENT DIESEL: BR shunter D2120
The 0-6-0 diesel-mechanical shunter is one of 230 built at Swindon and Doncaster between 1957 and 1962. Entering service in 1959, it spent its working life in the Swansea area of South Wales before being withdrawn in 1986.
It arrived at Fawley Hill wearing the standard BR rail blue livery and its new 1974 number 03120 but has since been repainted in early BR green with its original number and loco shedplate of 87C (Danygraig), the depot where it entered service.
ORIGINAL LIVERY: restored to early BR green
Even before you leave Somersham station for the short trip downhill, there’s a lot to take in.
Isn’t that the old station sign from High Wycombe station harking back to the days before the link to Marlow closed to passengers in 1970? And behind it the little crossing box which once stood at Cheshunt station?
THE WAY WE WERE: High Wycombe’s old platform sign
Volunteers starting out as guides here for the Fawley Museum Society have a lot of facts to get their heads around. The footbridge we are passing under comes from Brading on the Isle of Wight; on one side is a weighing machine from Ashford Works in Kent, and there’s even a “wig-wag” crossing sign from the Sante Fe railroad in America.
STEPPING UP: the footbridge from Brading
In the station yard stands the first building to come to the Fawley railway: a 1905 Midland Railway signalbox originally erected at Swadlincote East outside Burton-on-Trent but later moved to the sidings controlled by the brewers Bass, Ratcliff & Gretton at Shobnall Maltings.
BREWERY SIDINGS: the Midland Railway signalbox
Bass expanded its malting and ales stores in the 1870s and the eight miles of private track needed a signalbox to control train movements. The Swadlincote box was moved there in 1955 and remained until the line closed in 1968, arriving at Fawley the following summer.
And so the journey continues: on to Broad Street, Blackfriars and Waterloo, down the hill towards tiny buildings gathered from the length and breadth of the country, from a Newton Abbot lamp hut to part of Invergordon North signalbox, north of Inverness.
DOWNHILL TRIP: the LSWR Waterloo station arches
Even on this trip, we’re only scratching the surface of a collection that’s vast in its scale and intriguing in its scope: from wagons and coaches to models and maps, paintings and horse brasses.
Sir William’s lifelong love of railways and his construction industry connections allowed him to spent more than half a century amassing his extraordinary private museum, rescuing artefacts, buildings, preserved railways and locomotives along the way.
LASTING LEGACY: the Fawley Hill Railway
When he was alive, he would often be found walking his dogs around the estate discussing new acquisitions with the volunteers.
You get the feeling he would be delighted to see those volunteers out in force today, and so many smiling faces still getting so much pleasure from his legacy.
The museum and railway are open on a limited number of days during the year and admission is only by prior application and invitation. See the museum’s events page for details.
WITH descriptions on the cover like “haunting” and “heartbreaking” you are under no illusion that Kenneth Grahame’s life story is going to make for easy reading.
Accomplished biographer Matthew Dennison deftly and poignantly
portrays an awkward, bookish bachelor dogged by personal tragedy who retreated
into his own imagination from an early age.
His lasting legacy, of course, was the book he published in 1908 which became one of the greatest children’s classics of all time, The Wind In The Willows.
And as Dennison explains, the Thames Valley appears to have given Grahame the inspiration for his writing – as well as providing a place of sanctuary and escape from the harsher realities of life.
Born in Edinburgh in 1859, Grahame was only five when his mother died, and his father, who had a drinking problem and was overcome by grief and self-pity, gave the care of his four children to their grandmother, who lived in Cookham Dean in Berkshire.
PLACE OF SANCTUARY: the Thames Valley
There they lived in a higgledy-piggledy but dilapidated home in extensive grounds by the River Thames where they would be introduced to the riverside and boating by their uncle, David Inglis, the local curate.
Although they would later have to move to Cranbourne before the young Kenneth attended school in Oxford, it was at The Mount in Cookham Dean that the author became a “doodler and a dreamer”, exploring the adjoining Quarry Wood and the Thames beyond during a golden two-year interlude that would provide him with his most vivid and intense memories.
‘DOODLER AND DREAMER’: Carol Singing Mice ARTWORK:Chris Dunn
An unexpected bonus of his schooldays at St Edward’s School in Oxford was that the pupils were free to wander the city’s cobbled streets alone, imbuing in him a fascination for the city that he hoped to further explore as a university undergraduate there.
Unfortunately his sensible Scottish uncle had different ideas about his future prospects, and his appointment as a bank clerk in London was to pave the way for a respectable banking career that would immerse him in City life but leave him free to day-dream about riverside adventures and leave him free at weekends to return to the Thames.
Still in his twenties, he began to publish light stories in London periodicals and in the 1890s started to write tales about a group of parentless children whose circumstances sounded remarkably similar to his own childhood days at Cookham Dean.
By the mid-1890s, Grahame had tasted success in both his banking and writing careers, but Dennison reveals a bookish bachelor more comfortable with his pipe, a solitary ramble or male colleagues than in female company.
Nonetheless Grahame was to marry Elspeth Thomson in 1899 when he was 40 after a pursuit by her characterised by Dennison as “single-minded and unwavering”. But the marital relationship was emotionally sterile and both appeared to find it disappointing and unfulfilling.
Their only son Alastair (“Mouse”) was born blind in one eye and was plagued by health problems. Tragically he would later take his own life on a railway track while an undergraduate at Oxford University a few days before his 20th birthday in 1920. And yet it was Grahame’s bedtime stories for Alastair that formed the basis for The Wind In The Willows.
BEDTIME STORIES: Mole in the Wild Wood ARTWORK:Chris Dunn
‘Mouse’ was about four when Grahame started to tell him stories and on the author’s frequent boating holidays without his family he would write further tales of Toad, Mole, Ratty, and Badger in letters to Alastair.
The four animal friends provided the basis for the manuscript for the book which would secure Grahame’s reputation, published in the year he took early retirement from the Bank of England, by which time he had moved back to the Thames, initially to Cookham and later to Blewbury.
Despite its success, he never attempted a sequel, although the book gave rise to many film and television adaptations and Toad remains one of the most celebrated and beloved characters in children’s literature.
CHILDREN’S FAVOURITE: Toad of Toad Hall
Indeed the Julian Fellowes 2017 stage adaptation — filmed at the London Palladium, and starring Rufus Hound as Toad, Simon Lipkin as Ratty and Craig Mather as Mole — was offered free online when theatres closed as the coronavirus scare spread in the UK, with a small donation requested to help support theatre workers.
The pastoral tale of riverside camaraderie seemed to reflect the author’s fascinating with “messing about in boats” and is celebrated for its evocation of the Thames Valley.
RIVERSIDE CAMARADERIE: Walking Through The Village ARTWORK: Chris Dunn
But as Dennison explores in a sensitive and nuanced account of his life, both the literary and real-life riverbank escapades may have provided a necessary escape from darker emotions.
It also warned about the fragility of the English countryside and expressed fear at threatened social changes that became a reality in the aftermath of World War I.
Grahame’s life was not without adventure. He met many of the literary greats of the period and was even shot at in 1903 when a gunman opened fire at the Bank of England.
But when he died in Pangbourne in 1932 it was for one thing that he was remembered – as his cousin and successful author Anthony Hope had engraved on his gravestone in Holywell Cemetery, Oxford: the fact that he left childhood and literature “the more blest for all time”.
Matthew Dennison has published a number of works of biography and writes for Country Life and the Telegraph. Eternal Boy: The Life of Kenneth Grahame was published in 2018 by Head of Zeus Ltd at £8.99
Chris Dunn graduated in 2008 with an illustration degree from Bath Spa University and began working life as a freelance illustrator producing portraits and conceptual illustrations mainly for editorial clients.
“The commissions were varied in style and content, however, they were not in the traditional watercolour style that I wished to pursue,” he says. “I set about entering open competitions that specialised in representational art, preferably with a watercolour bent.”
HOME FROM HOME: Badger’s Kitchen ARTWORK:Chris Dunn
The process was a valuable groundwork for his career, but his big break came in 2013 with a large commission from Galerie Daniel Maghen in Paris.
“Until that point I was illustrating for magazines and producing private / gallery commissions while working part-time in a Bath gallery,” he recalls. “Soon after beginning work for the gallery I was offered a chance to teach a children’s book illustration course at a local summer school.
SEASON’S GREETINGS: Carol Singing Mice ARTWORK:Chris Dunn
“I had an inkling The Wind in the Willows would be a perfect story for students and myself to illustrate, so I picked up a copy, made notes as I read and thought one day I’d like to illustrate the unabridged version for a publisher.”
Galerie DM approached him with an offer to paint a series of watercolours based in the world of The WInd In the Willows and his love affair with all things Ratty, Mole, Badger and Toad was cemented.
The paintings successfully exhibited in Paris in 2016, followed by another Galerie DM series commission, this time to illustrate Willows properly.
“I finally became a full-time artist specialising in traditional children’s book watercolour illustration,” says Chris.
The publisher Caurette had strong links with Galerie Daniel Maghen and it made sense to work together to produce a book and an exhibition of the originals to coincide with the book launch.
TASTE FOR ADVENTURE: Mole in the Wild Wood ARTWORK:Chris Dunn
Unfortunately the grand exhibition and book launch never happened due to the coronavirus lockdown and everything was launched and sold online. But Chris’s career was firmly established.
Since then he has worked on a variety of other children’s books and an animal retelling of The Night Before Christmas.
But Ratty and Mole have a special place in his heart, allowing him to explore the world on the periphery of the riverbank sometimes hinted at by Grahame.
WOODLAND FRIENDS: Walking Through The Village ARTWORK: Chris Dunn
“It was a rich seam to mine illustrating an imaginary (alas) world of woodland animals interacting at home, in the trees, city, sea coast, school and even in the air,” he recalls.
Chris has given permission for his pictures to be used on The Beyonder to illustrate some blog entries and our review of Matthew Dennison’s biography of Grahame.
His galleries and shop can be found at his website.
IT’S 1937 and Alfred Hitchcock’s latest crime thriller has hit UK cinema screens.
Coming two years after his successful spy thriller The 39 Steps, based on John Buchan’s novel and starring Robert Donat, there’s plenty of interest in his latest crime drama about an innocent man on the run from police.
But for Buckinghamshire cinemagoers there’s an extra appeal to Young And Innocent, because many scenes are filmed in and around Pinewood Studios at Iver Heath.
The film opens on a stormy night in Cornwall where a successful actress is arguing with her husband. By the morning her dead body washes ashore on a beach to be discovered by writer Robert Tisdall, who rapidly becomes the prime suspect.
When the evidence starts to look overwhelming, our hero goes on the run, aided and abetted by the daughter of the local chief constable – and for audiences in the Chilterns, that’s when the surroundings begin to look strangely familiar.
ON THE RUN: the fugitive arrives in Hambleden village
From Hambleden village the couple head to Heatherden Hall, the Grade II-listed Victorian country house in the grounds of Pinewood Studios which nowadays acts as wedding venue but which has featured in so many classic films and TV series.
FAMILIAR SIGHT: Heatherden Hall at Pinewood
They also almost get stopped outside the Swan on West Wickham High Street and the police chase later hots up around Twyford station, although there may be other local locations which the enthusiasts haven’t been able to place yet.
Although not in the same league as The 39 Steps or the 1938 mystery thriller The Lady Vanishes – the pair are ranked among the greatest British films of the 20th century – Young And Innocent was praised as a crisply paced romantic thriller in which numerous small touches showed Hitchcock’s penetrating observation and knowledge of human nature.
CLOSE CALL: the high street in West Wickham
By the end of the decade the director had won international acclaim and had been lured to Hollywood.
If you fancy your chances at spotting any other missing locations, or have up-to-date pictures of what the locations look like today, the Reelstreets website has 24 screen captures to test your knowledge.
SOMETIMES you need a little help to capture your favourite wildlife on camera.
Hiring a hide for a morning could be one way of getting up close to fast-moving kingfishers, for example, which so often fly at lightning speed low over the water.
Even those living beside chalk streams often struggle to see more than a fizzing flash of turquoise that disappears round the bend and out of sight, giving the merest glimpse of those unmistakable blue and orange colours.
TURQUOISE FLASH: a kingfisher on the Chess PICTURE: Carol Ann Finch
Knowing a favourite hunting perch could be another way of capturing the birds at rest, and young Hertfordshire photographer Will Brown favours the wetland reserve at RSPB Rye Meads beside the River Lee, which is a firm favourite with birdwatchers and photographers thanks to its many trails and hides.
Down on the Chess at Sarratt, Carol Ann Finch and friends enjoyed a relaxing morning beside the river watching a colourful friend on the lookout for minnows, sticklebacks and small insects, using an Olympus camera with a 70-300mm macro lens to capture the action in close-up.
HUNTING PERCH: on the lookout PICTURE: Carol Ann Finch
Kingfishers can’t swim, so they tend to favour slow-flowing rivers or motionless water, making picturesque chalk streams like the Wye and Chess the perfect environment for a spot of fishing.
The birds hunt from riverside perches, occasionally hovering above the surface before diving at high speed into the water with their wings open and eyes protected by transparent eyelids. Once the fish is caught, it is taken back to the perch where the kingfisher usually stuns it before swallowing it head first.
MONDAY, DECEMBER 2
ARE foxes really as sly and cunning as they’re painted? It’s a pretty persistent stereotype that seems to date back millennia.
Foxes epitomise trickery and deceit in Shakespeare’s plays but references to their artfulness can be found much earlier, including repeated mentions in the fables collected by Aesop, a slave and storyteller living in ancient Greece centuries before Christ’s birth.
In medieval European folklore and literature foxes in general have the same dubious reputation and the specific character of Reynard is a legendary anthropomorphic red fox portrayed in some two dozen tales deceiving and outwitting his adversaries.
Doubtless much of the reputation is based on close observation of these highly adaptable, opportunistic animals. We know the common fox, vulpes vulpes, is a rapid learner, remembers where food is stashed and has adapted well to the presence of humans.
They appear bold around our cities, thrive in urban environments and farmers know them to be resourceful and ingenious in their hunting techniques, which probably helps to give the impression that they’re using their wits to get ahead.
But rather than being elborate tacticians, it’s their versatility that has been the key to their evolutionary success, allowing their survival in such substantial numbers despite being persecuted by hunters throughout history for spot, as a pest or for their fur.
Elegant, ingenious and much maligned, foxes know a thing or two about survival. Or as Chris Packham puts it: “I like foxes because they are widespread, beautiful and successful. It’s always a treat to see a fox dashing through some rusty bracken.”
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 3
IT’S hard to believe that at one time a third of the land area of southern England was designated as royal forest, including whole counties like Essex.
The recollection is prompted by a chance morning encounter with a few skittish deer. These days ramblers and dog walkers are probably pleasantly entertained by such brief meetings, usually at dawn or dusk, before the shy animals slink off into the undergrowth.
But estate managers have no such affection for the growing deer population that poses a real threat to our woodlands, while motorists have different reasons to fear the animals, of which more than 40,000 die in collisions on our roads every year.
Current exact numbers are not known, but the figure is probably at its highest for a thousand years and could even top two million.
Flash back across the centuries, and William the Conqueror’s arrival marked a whole new era of forest law designed to proect game animals and their forest habitat, as we discovered last year on a visit to Epping Forest.
The Norman kings were enthusiastic hunters and huge tracts of the country were designated as hunting areas reserved for the monarch and his aristocratic guests, with deer parks like those at Stowe, Langley and Whaddon equipped for the management and hunting of deer and other wild animals to provide a constant supply of food throughout the year.
The narrative of an evil foreign tyrant disrupting prosperous settlements and evicting tenants to create space for his leisure pastime featured prominently in the folk history of England, and one vitriolic poem written in 1087 on the king’s death lambasted him for his greed and cruelty.
Forest law was designed to protect the ‘noble’ animals of the chase like deer and wild boar, along with the greenery that sustained them, with verderers policing poaching and illegal felling while overseeing the rights of locals to take firewood, pasture swine, harvest produce and cut turf.
HUNGRY MOUTHS: there are six types of deer in the UK PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Today there are six types of deer to be found in the woods: the two native species, the red deer and roe deer, along with the fallow deer introduced by the Normans and three species of deer introduced from the Far East: the sika deer, Chinese water deer and the small and mostly nocturnal muntjac.
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 4
BARE branches allow us a clearer view of our feathered friends than we normally get, and none is a more cheering sight on a drab December day than the gorgeous goldfinch.
A colourful finch with a bright red face, black cap and yellow wing patch, it’s a very sociable little bird with a delightful twittering song and a fine beak that allows it to extract otherwise inaccessible seeds from thistles and teasels which other birds can’t reach.
Routinely trapped in Victorian times to be kept as cage birds, they also like lavender, dandelions and niger seeds.
In English a group of goldfinches is collectively known as a ‘charm’ from the Old English c’irm, referring to the tinkling noises produced by a flock. In Irish and Scots Gaelic their name lasair choille is equally appropriate, translating as “flame of the forest”.
Some UK goldfinches migrate as far south as Spain in the winter, but many “thistle-tweakers” will stay here throughout the winter months, adding a welcome splash of colour to the undergrowth with their superhero masks.
SYMBOLIC: the robin PICTURE: Carol Ann Finch
Both the red cheeks of the goldfinch and the red breast of the robin were accorded weighty religious symbolism in medieval minds, and the goldfinch featured in hundreds of Renaissance paintings.
The colours in both birds’ plumage was said to have been acquired while trying to remove Christ’s crown of thorns in an act of mercy.
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 5
ON dreary December days, it’s easy to mourn the loss of colour in the landscape: those dull, monochrome hours where the woodland tones are shrouded in rain or mist.
Thankfully there are still plenty of glimpses of sunlight to remind us that the glow of autumn is not quite a thing of the past.
Deep in the woods at Penn the weak sunshine lights up the russets and golds again and the breaks in the cloud remind us of the real beauty of autumn leaves.
GOING FOR GOLD: autumn leaves PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
But it’s not an easy time for ramblers. Apart from the unpredictable temperatures there’s widespread flooding and over at Hedsor, wildfowl have reclaimed the footpath.
UNDER WATER: a Hedsor footpath PICTURE: Andrew Knight
The gulls seem in their element here, but as dusk falls there’s a distinct chill in the air and the Thames is flowing fast, with many fields and gardens around Cookham and Bourne End under water.
On a bright spring day, this section of the Berkshire Loop of the Chiltern Way is a delight, a wander past churches which have been holy places for a thousand years or more, picturesque cottages in brick and flint and deserted lanes where the sound of birdsong echoes above the wild garlic.
DAMP PROSPECT: flooded fields PICTURE: Andrew Knight
But with light fading as we cross the bridge at Cookham, there’s a gloomier feel to the muddy Thames Path towards Bourne End, the smell of diesel in the air as boat owners hunker down for another cold night and the river fast becoming an inky black snake in the darkness, powerful and forbidding.
As night closes in, this is an aspect of life on the river that summertime strollers don’t see, when the Thames looks deep and cold and scary and the Christmas lights of those large riverside homes a lot more appealing than spending the night on the water.
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 6
YET more wind and rain leaves our local chalk stream cloudy and the footpaths transformed into sticky mudbaths.
Yet although it’s slippery welly-boot-wearing weather for walkers, it’s still possible to stumble across a little dry land in the woods, and the skies are nothing if not unpredictable.
On our evening walk, one minute those clouds are scudding across the sky, the treetops rustling like waves on the shore…the next, there’s a clear sky overhead and the stars are shining clear and bright over our path through the trees.
It’s the sort of weather when a casual glance out of the kitchen window might deter you from the thought of venturing out into the afternoon downpour…yet taking the risk and emerging from the cosy warmth of our homes can bring immense rewards, especially when the sun finally breaks through the cloud and dazzles us with one of those wonderful December surprises we might have otherwise missed.
ANOTHER day, another named storm: this time Storm Darragh, complete with ominous red weather warnings about possible loss of life and with winds gusting over 90mph in places.
We wake to lashing rain, swaying trees and birds being buffeted across the sky.
PICTURE POSTCARD: dawn at Coleshill PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
But the calm before the storm was a time to savour across the Chilterns, from dawn vistas of sleeping villages to sunlight glinting through the trees.
December days may be short and unpredictable, but there are still those all-important moments to cherish: the smell of woodsmoke drifting across the fields, the lure of a roaring fire in a friendly pub on a freezing day or being able to curl up with a good book with your pets snoozing around you.
MOMENT OF PEACE: the calm before the storm PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Inside or out, the serenity may not last for long, but it’s good to make the most of all those little things that make life worth living, including the sound of raindrops on wet leaves and the pleasant earthy scent of the woods once the worst of the storm clears.
For now, it’s time to get the wellies on and slip-slide our way along those muddy footpaths while Darragh blows itself out, leaving closed motorways, railway lines and airports in its wake.
WINTER WARMTH: watching for the sun’s return PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
But hopefully it won’t be too long before a little calm is restored to the countryside and the sun returns to warm the winter landscape.
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 8
DAWN breaks and the wind is still whistling, whining and howling around the house.
Around town, great oaks and cedars are shaking themselves like wet dogs and local paths and roads have been blocked with the debris of a stormy night.
In the woods, the “night has been unruly”, but not quite with such an ominous overtones as in Macbeth, despite the speed of the storm clouds scudding across the sky or those strange hues they sometimes cast over the countryside.
STRANGE LIGHT: the sky appears yellow at times PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
The Met Office tells us that the sky appears blue to the human eye because the short waves of blue light are scattered more than the other colours in the spectrum, making the blue light more visible.
Light from the sun is made up of a spectrum of many different colours, as we see when they are spread out in a rainbow, with different colours all having different wavelengths, from the shorter ones of blue and violet to red light, which has the longest wavelength.
ORANGE BALL: the sun sinks over Amersham PICTURE: Gel Murphy
When the sun’s light reaches the Earth’s atmosphere it is deflected by tiny molecules of gases like nitrogen and oxygen in the air with the amount of scattering dependent on the wavelength.
This effect is known as Rayleigh scattering after Lord Rayleigh, the eminent physicist who first discovered it.
Shorter wavelengths (violet and blue) are scattered the most strongly, so more of the blue light is scattered towards our eyes than the other colours, although it tends to be the most vibrant overhead and paler towards the horizon.
Rayleigh scattering also causes the sun to appear red at sunset, when the sun’s light takes a longer path to reach the horizon, so more of the shorter wavelengths are scattered out. This leaves mostly red light, which is why the sun appears red.
SETTING SUN: light through the trees PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Storm clouds can create some unusual effects in the sky, as can dust, pollen and smoke in the atmosphere, creating eerie yellow, green, red and purple hues.
MONDAY, DECEMBER 9
“DECEMBER afternoons do something to my heart,” writes Melissa Harrison in The Stubborn Light of Things. “Perhaps it’s the early dusk combined with approaching winter: a sense of drawing in, of lighting the lamps early, and the fire…”
It’s also the warm yellow glow from windows of ancient cottages, the cawing of rooks straying back to their ancient rookery, the dusk walks along darkened country lanes, the scatter of cottages round a Norman church.
WARM GLOW: December afternoons are special PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
“At their best,” she writes, “rural villages bear witness to a lasting partnership of people, place and nature, and to me there is something deeply moving – almost sacred – about that.”
As so often, the Suffolk-based nature writer is spot on in summing up the importance of buildings feeling part of the landscape. The same is true of our wonderful old Chilterns towns, of course, where the buildings are intimately woven into the fabric of the surrounding countryside.
It could be the most humble cottage, or an imposing country house. But good architecture adds soul to communities and speaks to our senses and emotions in ways we may not fully understand.
LASTING LEGACY: an ancient church PICTURE: Gel Murphy
It’s perhaps part of the reason why we stare at ancient buildings with awe, or feel so much at home in cosy pubs or country houses that have survived the ravages of the passing years.
These buildings have protected and outlived their inhabitants, transcending the impermanence of human existence to become a lasting feature of the local landscape.
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 10
COULD there be a more comforting and contented sound that the cooing of wood pigeons on a summer’s evening?
Conversely, there are few sounds more frantic and frenetic than the fluster of pigeons disturbed from their roost at night on these chilly winter nights.
The contrast is brilliantly summed up by Daphne du Maurier in her 1938 Gothic novel Rebecca:
Once there was an article on wood pigeons, and as I read it aloud it seemed to me that once again I was in the deep woods at Manderley, with pigeons fluttering above my head. I heard their soft, complacent call, so comfortable and cool on a hot summer’s afternoon, and there would be no disturbing of their peace until Jasper came loping through the undergrowth to find me, his damp muzzle questing the ground.
Like older ladies caught at their ablutions, the pigeons would flutter from their hiding-place, shocked into silly agitation, and, making a monstrous to-do with their wings, streak away from us above the tree-tops, and so out of sight and sound.
Of course there are plenty of folk driven to distraction by the cooing of pigeons and numerous pest control sites awash with suggestions of how to make the birds less happy, secure and comfortable.
EXTRAORDINARY: pigeons became wartime heroes PICTURE:Nick Bell
They have played a vital role in medicine and saved countless lives in wartime carrying vital messages over long distances when other methods of communication were impossible.
When you drive down Park Lane, there always seems to be an old lady surrounded by a crowd of hungry pigeons, reminiscent of iconic Feed the Birds song from the 1964 Disney film version of Mary Poppins, filmed on the steps of St Paul’s Cathedral.
Perhaps there’s more to that scene than meets the eye: despite being so much maligned, we’re told that those “small blue busybodies” are not just smart but have bags of character and can be extremely loving.
With so many pigeons around, we tend to take these most humble of birds for granted, oblivious to their beauty and their many talents. Time to look at our feathered friends in a fresh light, perhaps.
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 11
HUMANS will spend billions of pounds this year immersing ourselves in high-tech virtual reality worlds, from virtual concerts and art galleries to hyper-realistic video games.
But who needs virtual reality when the real world is so spectacular? With some teens already spending up to eight hours a day on screens, it’s no surprise this may be associated with higher anxiety and depression and a lower overall quality of life and academic achievement.
Screen time overloads the sensory system and fractures attention, making it harder to process one’s internal and external environment and sometimes leading to explosive and aggressive behaviour.
Getting out and about on a windy day helps to root us in reality and remind us of the importance of real-world experiences and relationships.
Plus, how do we expect young people to be able to relate to the natural world (and want to protect it) if they don’t experience it at first hand?
COMMUNITY SPIRIT: Christmas lights PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Generations of teenagers have baulked at the idea of being forced to participate in “family time” or engage with other adults in the community, but perhaps there’s never been a time when it’s been more important for young people to become more aware of their surroundings and fully understand what’s real and what isn’t.
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 12
YOU might not give the brown spiky seed heads of the teasel a second glance if they weren’t so beautifully backlit by the morning sunlight.
But familiar as these striking prickly wildflowers are, it’s easy to forget what a central role cultivated versions of the teasel once played in cloth production in Britain.
Popular with bees and butterflies in summer and seed-eating birds like the goldfinch in winter, they are less popular with gardeners, who find weeding them a wet and painful businesses.
STRIKING: teasels in the morning light PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
But take a trip back in time and the teasel played a central role in the textile industry as well as its extracts proving important components of the medicine chest in past centuries.
A cultivated sub-species has bristle tips shaped like tiny hooks which were used to ‘tease’ out the nap of cloth, explaining why teasels were grown as a cash crop in Britain from early times and even have a place in heraldry: the 1530 coat of arms of the Worshipful Company of Clothworkers depicts a golden teasel head.
As Robert McMillan explores, they were once cultivated on a huge scale to supply the country’s booming woollen mills and the process of fulling (or tucking or waulking, depending where in the country you live) helps to explain why Fuller, Walker and Tucker are such widespread surnames.
FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 13
LIVING beside a chalk stream means you’re never quite sure who you might encounter on your morning ramble.
Ducks and moorhens are commonplace. For months, a quintet of cygnets were getting their life instructions on a nearby stretch of water.
And today, to brighten the dullest of mornings when the sky is white, the footpaths sodden and the air distinctly chilly, a glorious little egret stands on the opposite bank staring balefully into the dark, fast-flowing water.
The small white heron is an elegant character with beautiful white plumes on its crest, back and chest, a black bill and black legs with strikingly yellow feet.
It lacks the height or statuesque prehistoric-looking appearance of the grey herons which can also be sometimes spotted contemplating their next meal on these banks, but both birds share a love of the minnows, sticklebacks and brown trout that thrive in healthy chalk streams.
Once a very rare visitor from the Mediterranean, little egrets are now a common sight in the Chilterns. They first appeared in the UK in significant numbers in 1989 and after first breeding in the UK on Brownsea Island in Dorset back in 1996, they have been expanding their range northwards ever since.
Today, it’s perhaps those amazing yellow feet that grab the onlooker’s attention as the bird strides rather self-consciously along the bank, lifting each leg high in the air like an avian John Cleese.
But ironically, the glamorous little bird had an important role to play in the RSPB’s history, as the organisation was founded by ladies campaigning against the use of feathers in the hat trade. Those long white neck plumes were once more valuable than gold and populations plummeted until laws were put in place to protect them.
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 14
THE colder and damper is gets outside, the more we crave a little light and warmth.
Wandering far from home in mid-December in The WInd in the Willows, Ratty and Mole patter through a little village on soft feet over a first thin fall of powdery snow.
Around them, “little was visible but squares of dusky orange-red on either side of the street, where the firelight or lamplight of each cottage overflowed through the casements into the dark world without”.
FAR FROM HOME: Walking Through The Village ARTWORK: Chris Dunn
The small backlit vignettes they witness – a cat being stroked, a small child being picked up and huddled off to bed, a tired man knocking out his pipe on a smouldering log – give the spectators a wistful feeling at the thought of their own homes being so distant.
We may experience just the same longing for a welcoming lantern or fire, for carols by candlelight or the warm glow of a welcoming homestead. And of course at this time of year there’s the added appeal of festive lights, from the twinkling welcome of a humble cottage to the grand displays of our largest stately homes.
We know that bright lights and colours trigger happy hormones and may even help to boost energy levels and happiness. For many, of course, Christmas is a magical time of nostalgia, a time of celebrating innocence and joy as well as a time of spiritual reflection.
Like Ratty and Mole we don’t just crave the warmth of those welcoming lights and fires, but the camaraderie and conviviality they symbolise: the opportunity to spend quality time with family and friends, the prospect of feasting and merriment.
The converse, of course, is equally true. If our wintry walk through the woods is blessed by the prospect of returning to a cosy hearth and home, it reminds us of the bone-chilling loneliness experienced by the homeless at this time of year or the millions facing hunger and misery in bombed-out buildings and refugee camps as conflict, the climate crisis and economic shocks drive more and more communities around the world towards starvation.
FESTIVE MOOD: a feast for the senses PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
It’s not just in war zones that people are struggling over the festive season, though. Those battling to cope with bereavement, health or money worries may feel every bit as lonely and isolated over the holiday period, especially faced with all those images of carefree families and friends spending time together.
Christmas is a wonderful time of year, but it’s challenging for so many who feel left out in the cold.
COLD COMFORT: Christmas can be challenging PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 15
AFTER days of white and slate-grey skies, there’s finally a break in the clouds and some welcome rays of sunshine to brighten the spirits and restore a bit of colour to the countryside.
But with so many trees stripped bare by the recent storms, those wonderful multi-coloured falling leaves of November are rapidly turning into a dark brown mulch.
Footpaths are awash with mud and the undergrowth looks drab and damp – it’s time to seek out some evergreen solace among the conifers, mosses and lichens of a favourite local wood.
SOLACE: evergreen hues PICTURE: Andrew Knight
Here the ferns and bracken may have died back but the trees soar high into the sky, there are patches of holly everywhere and a patchwork of different greens to provide a welcome contrast to all the December murk.
It’s the perfect therapy after those depressing days of drizzle and darkness.
The sunshine may be weak and fleeting, but it’s enough to bring the woods alive with shadows and put a new spring in our step as we try to make the most of the available light.
THERAPY: sunshine after the rain PICTURE: Andrew Knight
By the time dusk falls, there’s steam rising from the river and a mist over the park, with the temperature dropping fast and December’s cold moon casting a silver sheen through gaps in the clouds.
It will clear later to expose the heavens, including the shooting stars of the Geminid meteor shower, which has just reached its peak but will be visible for a few nights yet.
While most meteor showers are associated with comets, the Geminids are caused by debris from an asteroid, with particles vapourising as they enter our atmosphere at speeds to up to 150,000mph, creating multi-coloured streaks of light in the night sky because of elements such as sodium and calcium found within the celestial debris.
WELCOME RAYS: the woods come to life PICTURE: Andrew Knight
They were first observed in 1862 and according to the Royal Observatory in Greenwich they are thought to be intensifying every year.
Just before dawn the cold moon is still bright in the sky, making the Wye look like a grey satin strip rippling across the fields. It’s a welcome reminder that even on the dullest days or darkest nights, there’s plenty of beauty to be discovered in our ancient landscape.
MONDAY, DECEMBER 16
WHY not banish those Monday morning blues with a little colour therapy from the natural world?
We started December looking at the turquoise flash of kingfishers and last week celebrated the elegant plumage (and striking yellow feet!) of the little egret, but today it’s the turn of one of Britain’s loudest, most colourful and recognisable birds, the ring-necked parakeet.
Nowadays its cheeky chatter has become familiar to a couple of generations of Londoners, but how did an ‘interloper’ unknown in the UK a century ago and still relatively rare as recently as the 1990s become quite such a familiar sight up and down the country?
Tim Blackburn, professor of invasion biology at UCL, explained something of the bird’s back story earlier this year in The Guardian, concluding that the bird’s presence in such large numbers may stem from a parrot flu health scare in the early 1950s when fears about catching psittacosis from pet birds prompting owners to liberate their beloved birds into the London skies, where they settled and flourished.
CHEEKY CHATTER: the ring-necked parakeet PICTURE: Jane Jasper Merry
Though the capital remains their stronghold, they have spread across the country and their raucous cries and long-tailed silhouettes are increasingly common in the Chilterns.
Should we fear their spread in the way we have worried about other invasive species? Blackburn concludes that we probably should be concerned about their negative impacts on other birds and bats, given that they compete with them for food and nesting sites.
They also have a voracious appetite for flowers, fruits and seeds which might eventually pose problems for Britain’s soft fruit and growing wine businesses.
But for now, we’re celebrating the cheeky appeal of a colourful character that’s popping up on bird tables across the land.
Talking of colourful characters, perhaps it’s also a good time to toast a much shyer bird which has been hiding in our woods for a lot longer than the parakeet.
Jays are the most colourful members of the crow family, known for their screaming calls, love of acorns and glorious plumage.
GLORIOUS PLUMAGE: the shy jay PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Instantly recognisable by their brilliant blue wing patches, jays eat invertebrates like caterpillars and beetles and spend the autumn hiding away precious nuts and acorns to enjoy later in the winter.
While jays clearly have a remarkable memory for where they store their acorns, some will inevitably remain buried, meaning that many of Britain’s oak forests are thought to have been planted by the birds.
Suffolk bird lover and writer David Tomlinson provides us with a marvellous description of the bird, making us pause to consider more closely not just that rare splash of Maya blue in its plumage but a forehead which looks as though combed with boot polish, ear-coverts suggestive of ruddy squirrel ears and two black thumbprints either side of the beak which some call a moustache.
The subtlety of the bird’s colouring is not perhaps matched by its raucous cries (although they are excellent mimics) or its behaviour, with some gardeners lamenting its pilfering from fruit trees and unscrupulous egg-robbing habits.
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 17
IT’S the week of the winter solstice, a time when ancient peoples feasted to mark the shortest day and longest night of the year, the first day of winter in the astronomical calendar.
And while the run-up to December 21 is often a gloomy or chilly period, the solstice had great symbolic importance in many ancient civilisations, where it was seen as a time of renewal and hope, symbolising the return of longer days.
SHORTEST DAY: a time of renewal and hope PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
For Neolithic people who were farmers growing crops and tending herds of animals, winter may have been a time of fear as the days grew shorter and colder.
People must have longed for the return of light and warmth and marking the start of this yearly cycle may have been one of the reasons that they constructed Stonehenge – a monument aligned to the movements of the sun.
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 18
IT WAS only natural that the earliest hunter-gatherers, shepherds, farmers and fisher folk would scan the skies with fascination and, sometimes, fear. After all, their very lives and livelihoods depended on the heavens.
Some 6,000 years ago, the ancient Babylonians were avid stargazers, erecting watch towers to scan the night sky, mapping the stars and visible planets, and recording their observations on clay tablets.
Their meticulous data provided the foundation for the first calendars, used to organise the growing and harvesting of crops and the timing of religious ceremonies.
But although their vision of the universe was based on mythological beliefs, their astronomical observations were astoundingly accurate, enabling them to track and predict the movements of the sun, moon, Mercury and Venus.
CAREFUL OBSERVATION: ancient astronomyPICTURE: Anne Rixon
They accomplished extraordinary feats of knowledge without the benefit of telescopes, satellites or computer technology but through careful observation, generational record-keeping, pattern recognition and early mathematics.
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 19
THE dawn chorus won’t begin until spring, but that doesn’t mean our woods and gardens are completely silent in December.
One bird which sings all year round is the robin, which despite its apparents tameness and demure appearance is a fiercely territorial bird, with an estimated 10% killed each year in fights with other robins.
ON SONG: robins defend their territory PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Territories are marked by singing and posturing to rivals, and if these actions fail to dissuade an intruder, fighting may ensue.
The resident bird will begin by ruffling its feathers, craning its head and dropping its wings before striking at an intruder with blows from the feet and wings. If the intruder doesn’t back down, both birds may roll around kicking and wing-beating each other, with fights recorded to last anywhere from a few seconds to well over an hour.
Robins are so territorial they have even been seen attacking stuffed robins!
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 20
AFTER clear night skies, it’s a frosty start and the fields glitter a greeting to the pale sun.
There’s a rustle in the hedgerow as crisp leaves betray the paw of a careless mouse or vole.
CHILLY START: frost sparkles in the fields PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
The palette may be wintry, but there’s a freshness to the morning air that inspires optimism, or perhaps a thoughtful moment, as Coleridge found:
The Frost performs its secret ministry Unhelped by any wind. The owlet’s cry Came loud—and hark, again! loud as before, The inmates of my cottage, all at rest Have left me to that solitude, which suits Abstruser musings
THE shortest day of the year may feel a little bleak and brief, but the winter solstice is traditionally a time of renewal and rebirth, of hope and optimism.
For weeks we have looked to the skies to celebrate those glorious sunrises and sunsets that remind us of the importance of light in our lives.
WINTER SOLSTICE: a time of renewalPICTURE: Anne Rixon
With fewer than eight hours of daylight, the shortest day is less than half the length of the summer solstice, so it’s not surprising that we welcome the prospect of the days getting gradually longer from now on, even if there’s still a long way to go until the end of the winter and the prospect of the spring equinox in March, by which time day and night hours are around the same length.
From Scandinavia to the Far East, the shortest day is traditionally a time of celebration and feasting, of fires being lit to symbolise the heat and light of the returning sun, of ceremonies to placate ancient gods.
RETURNING SUN: celebrations mark the solsticePICTURE: Anne Rixon
Advent candles in our churches symbolise the four themes of hope, peace, love and joy associated with the arrival of Jesus and around the world, all the great winter holiday celebrations focus around light.
ADVENT THEMES: hope, peace, love and joy PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
For early civilisations, the celebrations paid homage to the “invincible sun” that plays such a central role in our daily lives.
And as we enjoy the candles being lit for Christmas carols, the twinkling festive lights or the warmth of fires and lanterns in welcoming windows, we might recall the words of Buckinghamshire-born children’s author Susan Cooper in The Shortest Day:
And so the Shortest Day came and the year died And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world Came people singing, dancing, To drive the dark away.
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 22
WITH the winter solstice behind us it feels as if there can only be brighter times to come.
The problem, of course, is that the return of the longer days is a slow, incremental process, at least during the next few chilly weeks of winter.
EARLY RISERS: dawn at Coleshill PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Sunrise remains after 8am until mid-January and doesn’t creep forward to 7am until late February.
Nonetheless we do notice the days getting gradually longer all the time, hitting nine hours in late January and 10 hours by mid-February.
WINTER SUN: a chill in the air PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Meanwhile we’re relying on those festive lights for much of our light, along with the flickering candles at Christmas carol services and a weak winter sun trying to inject a little warmth and colour into the surroundings.
A trio of red kites are circling and crying overhead, and while the temperature is only four degrees and the wind distinctly icy, but the sky’s finally turned blue. Time to savour the moment: sunset is due just before 4pm today, so there’s not a moment to lose…
MONDAY, DECEMBER 23
ON A bright crisp frosty morning, colourful birds and berries tend to catch the eye.
And berries don’t come any more spectacular than the distinctive purple ones of the callicarpa bodinieri shrub ‘Profusion’, often planted by gardeners for a welcome splash of winter colour.
TASTY TREAT: a blackcap visitor PICTURE: Nick Bell
Trouble is, those purple berries look particularly tasty to birds like blackcaps and blackbirds, so that impressive winter display could soon be looking a lot sparser, as wildlife photographer Nick Bell discovered when a pair of blackcaps spotted his shrub and started to visit several times a day.
SEASONAL SNACK: a chill in the air PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Red berries are a little more familiar on our woodland wanders, and equally popular as a food source for our feathered friends.
In the winter months, birds can struggle to find enough food to get by and berries offer welcome sustenance when other sources are scarce and the ground is too hard to hunt for burrowing insects.
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 24
MIST cloaks the fields this morning and dog walkers loom out of the pale damp veil.
Possibly the Chilterns’ most iconic bird of prey, red kites often to be seen circling overhead on the thermals and their distinctive mewing call nowadays once more echoes across the landscape after years of persecution saw them hunted to extinction.
COMEBACK CRY: the red kite’s distinctive callPICTURE: Carol Ann Finch
Odd to think that these magnificent and distinctive birds, with their fanned forked tails and reddish-brown bodies, were actually protected by royal decree in the middle ages because their scavenging abilities helped keep the streets clean.
That was when they were a common sight across towns and villages in medieval England, regularly diving down into busy markets and streets to snatch up scraps of food and rodents.
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 27
A FIRST random pub quiz question for 2025: who or what connects the gorgeous cascading flowers of wisteria with the nighttime bark of a small deer in the woods?
The answer lies in the name of John Reeves, a keen English amateur naturalist working in China in the early 19th century as a tea inspector for the British East India Company.
Over a period of almost 20 years he developed a notable collection of Chinese drawings of animals, fish and plants, and was responsible for the introduction to the UK of a number of garden plants, including Chinese wisteria, chrysanthemums and azaleas.
CHINESE IMPORT: Reeves’ muntjac PICTURE: Malcolm Cridlan
By 1816 he was chief inspector of tea in Canton, where he obtained a pair of cuttings from the garden of a merchant and despatched them on two ships to the Horticultural Society of London.
Reeves returned to England in 1831 and was honoured by having his name, reevesii, applied to nearly 30 species of animals, including a variety of reptiles, a colourful pheasant he brought to Europe and Reeves’ muntjac (Muntiacus reevesi).
At least seven species of muntjac are known around the world, but the one that set up home in Britain is the Reeves’ muntjac, a small stocky Chinese deer introduced to the country not by Reeves himself but almost a century later by the then Duke of Bedford, who brought some to Woburn Abbey in Bedfordshire and later released them into the surrounding woods.
Other deliberate releases doubtless helped in the spread of the shy but voracious browsers, which are a russet brown colour for most of the year, turning to a dull grey in winter.
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 28
MISTY mornings and drizzly evenings aren’t conducive to great photographs, but there’s something immensely atmospheric about those damp grey days when the mist drapes itself around the trees and muffles the senses.
Strange shapes loom out of the ethereal haze: a twisted tree stump or startled muntjac, perhaps – or in Bushy or Windsor Parks, the rather more statuesque silhouette of a huge stag.
STATUESQUE: a stag in Bushy Park PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Some sounds seem deadened, but the birds are still on song, and as dusk falls the hoots of owls calling to each other in the woods sound distinctly eerie.
ON SONG: a blackbird in the mistPICTURE: Carol Ann Finch
For a moment the mist lifts in a clearing and the line of the footpath is suddenly visible again. But the illusion of clarity does not last long before the clammy tendrils thicken and merge, and the trees start to recede back into the invisibility cloak.
CHILLY PROSPECT: deer at Amersham PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
On an unknown path fog in the forest at night time could be scary and disorientating, but these woods are friendly and familiar and there’s a mystical beauty to the scene as night descends on our homeward journey through a damp fantasy land of moss-covered trunks and dripping branches.
From Tolkein’s hostile forests of Middle-earth to the dreaded Wild Wood, foggy forests play havoc with our imaginations with their ominous shadows and strange noises.
Hazy days saturate the colours around us and blur the edges of everything, lending an extra air of mystery and ambiguity to the most mundane surroundings.
Deep in the woods, those feelings are dramatically heightened. Woodland is often portrayed as a place of danger, wild and untamed, awash with fearsome creatures lurking in the shadows waiting to pounce on unsuspecting travellers.
But they can be a place of refuge too, of shelter and sanctuary, an opportunity to confront our demons and overcome the fears and challenges that stand in our path.
And as the mist clears, the colours return and the small details stand out sharp and clear again, dispelling any doubts and worries we may have had.
Once again, the woods are a place of magic and mysticism, of connection and immersion with the natural world, monsters and predators banished from our thoughts with the last vestiges of mist.
BRIGHT BERRIES: colours return to the woods PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
MONDAY, DECEMBER 30
AS the light starts to fade, the wood erupts in a veritable cacophony of sound.
Tonight it’s not just the pheasants whirring and crowing in the trees, but the cawing of crows and the wavering ‘hoo-hoo’ of a male tawny owl echoing through the branches.
The mist has lifted but there’s been no real sunlight to penetrate the deeper sections of the wood and the air is cold. But for all that it’s a peaceful, serene place to walk as darkness falls like a curtain along our route.
CACOPHONY OF SOUND: evening in the woods PICTURE: Andrew Knight
The evergreens here are towering, but there’s nothing sinister or forbidding about this place. Mirkwood it is not.
“The woods are lovely, dark and deep” wrote the American poet Robert Frost back in 1922 (he of The Road Not Taken fame):
The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep…
We do not have far to go, and Teddy the labrador rustles along in the undergrowth in companionable silence, oblivious to the whirring, cawing and hooting. By the time we leave the trees behind us and pad quietly along unlit country lanes towards the welcoming lights of the village, the birds have fallen silent again.
There’s talk of wilder weather to come in the New Year, but for now the night is blissfully calm and we feel blessed.
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 31
ON A cold winter’s night with storm clouds gathering, the sinuous black snake of the river could hardly look less inviting.
Surely this can’t be the same river which provided such idyllic surroundings for lazy picnics and other aquatic adventures in The Wind in the Willows?
In the timeless children’s classic, it acts as a catalyst for Mole’s coming of age, a place of freedom and independence. For Ratty the water vole, it’s home: a refuge of stability and familiarity where he finds peace.
And for generations of children, it became a place of intrigue and excitement, a joyous celebration of nature, camaraderie and loyalty that still feels fresh more than a century after it was penned.
IDYLLIC SETTING: Tranquil River ARTWORK:Chris Dunn
For many it would pave the way to their first experience of live theatre, with older readers perhaps recalling a visit to one of the many West End Christmas shows staged in the 1960s.
And for artist Chris Dunn, whose artwork is featured here, Ratty and Mole played a crucial role in establishing his career as a full-time children’s book illustrator.
Tonight, the river looks dark and cold, a far cry from those heady days of summer, despite New Year’s Eve fireworks casting an array of dancing colours across the rippling surface.
But since this is a night of hope, joy and optimism about the year to come, perhaps we’re allowed a glance ahead to sunnier days ahead when the grey skies are behind us and the prospect of messing about on the river will once again sound appealing.
For now, with the wind getting up and a night of rain and gales forecast, it’s perhaps a night to hunker down with friends and stay close to home, But wherever you end up at midnight, Happy New Year! And thank you all for your support, friendship and encouragement throughout 2024…
As always, we’re enormously grateful to the talented photographers who have been out and about in all weathers to chronicle the changing seasons and who have allowed us to publish their pictures throughout the past year. If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to our regular calendar entries, join our Facebook group page or write to editor@thebeyonder.co.uk.
MISTY mornings and damp evenings often set the tone for November, so it was perhaps unsurprising that after all the hi-jinks of Halloween, many local photographers found haunting and atmospheric shots felt the most appropriate way to welcome in the new month.
Our calendar entry for November includes more than three dozen shots across the five counties which comprise our extraordinary Chilterns landscape, capturing the wildlife, flora and sunsets that help to make it such a magical time of year.
SEA OF GOLD: cobwebs at Princes Risborough PICTURE: Anne Rixon
In the run up to Halloween, a field of cobwebs near Princes Risborough caught the eye of Anne Rixon, transformed into a delicate sea of gold.
But a glorious picture which seemed to capture the magic of All Saints’ Day was Sue Craigs Erwin’s misty woodland scene which got widespread exposure through the Chesham Wildlife group and the Oxford Mail and Watford Observer camera clubs.
SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 2
FOR Graham Parkinson, there’s nothing to beat the glorious autumnal colours of our fabulous fungi, and his macro lens captured an array of stunning shapes and textures during a trip to Davenport Wood at Marlow.
It’s hard to pick a favourite from the selection, but few fungi are more startling than the bright yellow coral-like branches of the stagshorn.
The beautiful inedible fungus jumps out of the leaf litter, looking like a freshly set fire emerging from conifer stumps or roots, and is also known in the States as jelly antler fungus.
The enduring fascination of fungi lies in their enormous variety, with thousands of different species offering an unlimited array of shapes and colours to be detected among the foliage.
Not that the uninitiated will want to get too close, perhaps: some of them are deadly and boast spine-tingling names like the destroying angel, funeral bell and death cap.
SUNDAY NOVEMBER 3
FOR some, getting out and about in nature is all about the wildlife, even if so many of our native creatures are quite difficult to spot.
LYING LOW: deer in Bushey Park PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
The undergrowth may be barer at this time of year, but that doesn’t always help, and the abundant leaf litter provides plenty of hiding places on the ground.
But larger mammals stand out against the bracken and even familiar farmyard friends can have their own beauty in this autumnal landscape, the sheep looking well insulated against the chillier of the season’s winds.
MORNING GLOW: deer in Bushey Park PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
And when the skies oblige, there’s nothing like an early morning glow to lend a mystical feel to the most comfortable of silhouettes.
MONDAY NOVEMBER 4
IT’S the tail end of the deer rutting season, when stags are fighting for territory, and that can mean some pretty dramatic displays by competing males pumped full of testosterone.
CALL OF THE WILD: the rutting season PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
The rut begins in September and lasts until around early November, during which time stags engage in a series of behaviours aimed at showing off to the hinds and establishing their dominance.
If they’re not roaring fiercely or stamping the hround, they could end up literally locking antlers to fight for the right to mate with all the hinds in a “harem”.
WINNER TAKES ALL: the victor gets mating rights PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Fights are ferocious and decisive and the winner takes all, but although the rut can be an amazing natural spectacle to witness, visitors to local deer parks are warned not to get too close to the competing stags.
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 5
AT one point in The Essex Serpent, Sarah Perry writes: “A vixen drew near and turned her gaslight eyes upon him, then drew back and sat surveying him a while.”
“Gaslight eyes” is a gloriously poetic phrase to capture the extraordinary stare of a curious fox and that remarkable bright amber glow we associate with the mammals.
Perhaps it also has echoes of the “eyeshine” we associated with noctural creatures whose glowing eyes may be the first thing we see reflected in a torch or headlight at night.
The tapetum lucidum is a layer of tissue immediately behind the retina which reflects visible light back through the retina, increasing the light available to the photoreceptors.
When light shines into the eye of an animal having this “bright tapestry”, the pupil or the eye, appears to glow, emitting a range of colours from white and yellow to red, blue, pink and green.
This unique adaptation allows for excellent night vision for nocturnal predators.
According to the Walking Mountains Science Center in America, generally mountain lions and bears have eyeshine in the yellow-to-red range. Deer and elk eyeshine is white, but moose eyeshine tends to be red. Rabbits and pikas have red eyeshine. Blue eyeshine is seen in other mammals, including horses. Foxes and domestic cats and dogs usually have green eyeshine, but cat eyeshine can also be orange to red.
WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 6
LONDON poet and journalist Thomas Hood was no fan of November, it seems.
CLEAR VIEW: a Chilterns stream PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Back in 1844 at the conclusion of his poem No! he penned the words:
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, No comfortable feel in any member— No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds,— November!
But perhaps we need to remember that Hood was more familiar with the all-encompassing London smog of the mid-19th century rather than the clear air of the Chilterns: and indeed he was to die there from dropsy the following year.
So to combat his vision of a landscape with “No sky—no earthly view— No distance looking blue”, we’re published a trio of November views which rather give the lie to the idea of the month being one of smog and gloom!
LIGHT FANTASTIC: an Amersham sunset PICTURE: Gel Murphy
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 7
IF Thomas Hood preferred to conjure up a somewhat bleak portrait of November, one Georgian poet had a distinctly more upbeat vision of the natural world.
Elizabeth Craven’s fascinating life was full of travel, love-affairs and scandals. Born into the upper class, she was pushed into marriage at 16 to Lord Craven and became a celebrated society hostess and beauty, as well as mother to seven children.
She went on to write a variety of poems, stories and plays, moving from Berkshire to France following separation from her husband in 1780 and living in seclusion there before travelling extensively all over Europe.
Later she went to live in Germany as the companion and eventually second wife of the Margrave of Ansbach before returning to England and mixing with the more rakish of the Regency set.
CLOSE OF DAY: blooms at sunset PICTURE: Gel Murphy
In her old age, she moved to Naples where she passed her time sailing, gardening and writing her memoirs, though a number of enigmatic gateposts at Hamstead Marshall near Newbury in Berkshire still stand as a reminder of the Craven family’s estates in the area.
But what’s all this got to do with the Chilterns countryside, you ask? Perhaps because we know Elizabeth Craven best for her most famous poem, one which remains popular at funerals today.
FAITHFUL EYES: Teddy the labrador
It’s a song of gratitude which begins:
I thank thee God, that I have lived In this great world and known its many joys: The songs of birds, the strong sweet scent of hay, And cooling breezes in the secret dusk; The flaming sunsets at the close of day, Hills and the lovely, heather-covered moors; Music at night, and moonlight on the sea, The beat of waves upon the rocky shore And wild white spray, flung high in ecstasy; The faithful eyes of dogs, and treasured books, The love of Kin and fellowship of friends And all that makes life dear and beautiful.
Even on the bleakest of November days, it’s easy for us to relate to the “many joys” of which she writes and perhaps add our own favourites to her list of things that make life “dear and beautiful”.
FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 8
MIST and fog get a bad press in literature, and we have dozens of words capturing the dank, dreary and drizzly associations of such weather.
Around the country we get mizzle and mirk, smirr, fret and haar: and none of them sound particularly healthy.
In many novels, not least Susan Hill’s The Woman In Black, fog and mist roll in to warn us of impending doom. Her fog creeps in and out of alleyways and passages, “seething through cracks and crannies like sour breath”, a yellow, filthy, evil-smelling fog, menacing and sinister, disguising the familiar world and confusing the people in it.
BLIND MAN’S BUFF: en route to Widmer PICTURE: Carol Ann Finch
For her, it’s as if people were “having their eyes covered and being turned about, in a game of Blind Man’s Buff”, whereas Dickens in Bleak House envisions people on the bridges peeping over the parapets into a nether sky of fog, with fog all round them, as if they were up in a balloon and hanging in the misty clouds.
SENSE OF FOREBODING: fog among the trees PICTURE: Anne Rixon
But if authors like Dickens have helped us to associate such images with the smog of Victorian London or the bleak expanses of the Kent coast or Essex marshes, other writers paint a gentler and more kindly picture of such weather conditions.
In his 1948 poem The Smoky Smirr o Rain, George Campbell Hay writes evocatively:
The hills aroond war silent wi the mist alang the braes. The woods war derk an’ quiet wi dewy, glintin’ sprays. The thrushes didna raise for me, as I gaed by alane, but a wee, wae cheep at passin’ in the smoky smirr o rain.
Unlike the fog’s sinister associations in The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, Hay’s morning mist drifts gentle down, cool and kind and whispering, till land and sea disappear and all becomes “still an’ saft an’ silent in the smoky smirr o rain”.
Much as we love the delicious shiver of darker associations and images, of Gothic novels where the grey pall recalls the wild moors of Wuthering Heights or the chilling howl of the Hound of the Baskervilles, we can relate to Hay’s softly silent world too.
When the edges of the landscape close in on us in a fine grey blur, sounds are muted and the air is damp, it may be that we feel blissfully calm and at peace with our silent surroundings, rather than fearing an approaching monster in the mist….
SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 9
SOMETIMES a sneaky snapshot of a cheeky squirrel is enough to brighten the greyest of days.
CHEEKY SMILE: a squirrel poses for the camera PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
This ubiquitous woodland mammal may not be universally loved, but their incredible agility and cheerful demeanour often endear them to photographers struggling to capture more fast-moving, elusive or nocturnal wildlife, like weasels and stoats, bats and owls.
November’s glorious autumnal colours provide a spectacular backdrop on a sunny day, of course, but even some of our largest wild animals can blend into the background quite convincingly, and are alert to the sound of approaching footsteps.
Wildlife photographers rely on a subtle combination of patience, skill and luck to produce their most spectacular shots, but for Phil Laybourne, one particular animal has been at the top of his bucket list for some time: the European polecat (Mustela putorius), part of the weasel family.
Detested by poachers and persecuted to the brink of extinction, polecats are roughly the size of their domesticated cousins, ferrets, but are nowadays a protected species in the UK under the Wildlife and Countryside Act 1981 and have been making something of a comeback in recent years.
BUCKET LIST: the European polecat PICTURE: Phil Laybourne
Part of the mustelidae family which includes species such the stoat, weasel, pine marten, otter and badger, as Phil’s startling portrait shows, polecats have a distinct bandit-like appearance, with white stripes across their dark faces.
They boast a two-tone coat with dark brown guard hairs covering a buff-coloured underfur, with a short, dark tail and rounded ears. Living in lowland wooded habitats, marshes and along riverbanks, they prey particularly on rabbits and have one litter a year in early summer.
SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 10
NOVEMBER is a month of remembrance, of poppies and poppy-strewn memorials, of old soldiers and wreath-laying ceremonies, of sombre thoughts of past battles and lost loved ones.
And in the wake of all the noise and light of bonfire night celebrations, Remembrance Sunday events across the world recall Armistice Day 1918, the end of hostilities in World War I.
LEST WE FORGET: poppies in Amersham PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
In countless brief, non-religious commemorations, wreaths are laid, the Last Post sounded and two minutes’ silence observed.
At the heart of these Royal British Legion events lies the reciting of the Exhortation, the best-known stanza of a poem written by British poet Laurence Binyon and published in The Times in 1914:
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning We will remember them.
REMEMBRANCE: recalling the fallen PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Down on the North Cornish coast a couple of plaques commemorate the spot near Pentire Point, north of Polzeath, where Binyon composed the poem while sitting on the cliff-top looking out to sea a few weeks after the first British casualties of the war, at Mons.
In 1945 the second Sunday of November was adopted as a day of remembrance for both World Wars.
SILENT REFLECTION: the Amersham display PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Over time, despite concerns at the occasion being hijacked by politicians and others to justify or promote military engagement, Binyon’s words have been claimed as a tribute to all casualties of war, regardless of state, with the events, wreaths and memorials offering an opportunity for silent personal reflection about all that is lost in times of war.
MONDAY, NOVEMBER 11
AFTER all the noise and light of bonfire night and diwali celebrations, as the plaintive Armistice Day notes of the Last Post die away it’s time to get out into the damp woods and soak up the sights and sounds of nature’s most spectacular fireworks show of the year.
For this fortnight in mid-November our woodlands are at their finest, clothed in a glorious array of yellow, gold and russet hues before the bright colours begin to fade and a spate of windy weather strips the branches bare.
It’s at this time of the year that our beech woods come into their full glory, with the gold and yellow foliage standing out against the wrinkled textures of the bark and littering paths in a riot of wonderful tints.
Mosses, lichens and intriguing fungi begin to disappear among the leaf litter, while youngsters and puppies rustle along the paths and more curious souls perhaps try to spot the difference between the leaves of the oak, hazel, birch or field maple.
Is that a lime or hornbeam, elm, larch or sycamore? Even if leaf fall occurs earlier than usual, as in 2010, 2015 and 2020 when there was a sudden rush of colour at the end of October, some foliage may still last till late November or even December.
COLOUR CURTAIN: dozens of shades PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Of course when it comes the realisation that autumn colours are gone and the leaves are bare is always a sombre moment. But for now, it’s time to make the most of that glorious fireworks display, when even on a cloudy day the trees themselves seem to be radiating light and dozens of different shades of colour delight the senses.
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 12
AFTER so many dark, dank, dreary November days, clearer skies and plummeting temperatures can offer a dramatic change of perspective.
And what better way of boosting our spirits than watching the sun come up?
In a world where staring at our mobile phones takes a huge toll on our physical and mental health, escaping into nature to watch the sun rise can be a transformative experience, helping to boost our mood and immune systems, not to mention inspiring us with a feeling of awe and helping us to see the world in a different light.
Sunlight is good for our soul, they say: and perhaps setting the alarm a little earlier could be just the boost we need to help banish those November blues.
WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 13
WHEN the skies finally clear of mirk and smirr, there’s no sight more cheering than a red kite soaring on the thermals against a deep blue sky.
Beloved by poets, ramblers and dog walkers but detested by gamekeepers and once persecuted to the brink of extinction, today their shrill, distinctive whistle has become synonymous with country life in the Chilterns.
The graceful wings and distinctive forked tail cast a familiar shadow as they turn to catch the wind, several of them at a time wheeling effortlessly above the ridge, russet bodies catching the sun, sharp yellow bills glinting as those eyes scan the fields and hedgerows far below.
The poet David Cooke captures their place in history in the first stanza of Red Kites:
Plague birds, exquisite and focused, who scavenged Shakespeare’s unspeakable streets, they have drifted back from the borderlands of extinction on tense, splayed wings.
Given that they generally prefer scavenging for carrion, including roadkill, rather than hunting, the persecution seems even more misguided and unnecessary, but many are grateful that they are back in our skies again, soaring and serene, and in such numbers.
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 14
NOWHERE does the past feel more vividly present in our daily lives than on the banks of the Thames.
The pattern of the river we know today would have been familiar to settlers thousands of years ago, and generations of invaders and settlers built their castles, forts and palaces along its banks.
MISTY START: Cock Marsh on the Thames PICTURE: Phil Laybourne
Phil Laybourne’s glorious portrait of Cock Marsh by Cookham lies far from the Roman city of Londinium, but this National Trust-owned land is a perfect place for a circular wander through a picturesque and unspoilt landscape of meadows and grassland slopes with panoramic views over the valley.
Here, shrouded in early morning mist, it’s easy to recall how the terraces above the Thames were colonised by nomadic hunter-gatherers of the Old Stone Age tens of thousands of years ago.
Habitation here has continued ever since, evident from Bronze Age tumuli and huge amounts of Roman pottery removed from the foot of Winter Hill in 1906, which is thought to have once been the site of a ferry across the river.
FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 15
IT MAY lack the scale and sheer spectacle of New England in the Fall, but autumn in the Chilterns lacks none of the vibrancy or splendour of displays “across the pond”.
Here, in countless woodland settings from Burnham Beeches to Penn and on towards the Vale of Oxford and the Cotswolds, or sleepy villages in Hertfordshire and Bedforshire, the annual display brings an extraordinary range of colours to the landscape.
In America, the leaf fall attracts travellers from across the world to the pretty villages and rugged landscapes of Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine and parts of Massachusetts.
There, they call it “leaf peeping”, when the crowds descend to view and photograph the dramatic colour changes in the autumn foliage, or set off on hiking trips to capture the colours at close hand.
In Japan, there’s a similar tradition called momijigari of going to visit scenic areas where the maple leaves have turned red in autumn.
We may not have a specific word for such outings in the Chilterns, but perhaps there should be.
LEAF PEEPING: autumn foliage at Burnham Beeches PICTURE: Andrew Knight
We are blessed to live in an area of outstanding natural beauty which pretty much epitomises quintessential English countryside, the weathered brick and flint of ancient cottages, pubs and farmhouses providing a perfect backdrop for an autumn walk.
But then again, perhaps it’s just as well the crowds haven’t cottoned on to the seasonal beauty of the Chilterns.
In the States, fuelled by Instagram and social media influencers, some areas are inundated with bumper-to-bumper traffic, with hiking routes becoming dangerously overcrowded and locals complaining of inconsiderate tourists littering beauty spots and overunning small communities.
Whisper it quietly, then. When the skies clear, get out and savour the woodsmoke and simple pleasures of dogs and children rustling their way through the fallen leaves. We don’t need crowds to remind us just how beautiful our local landscape is.
SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 16
EVEN deep in the dark woods, the bare branches and piles of leaves are bathed in silver.
Overhead, the skies are clear, the air is cold and the final supermoon of the year is casting its glow into the furthest recesses of our footpath through the trees.
SUPERMOON: November’s Beaver Moon PICTURE: Carol Ann Finch
Our breath hangs warm in the chill evening air and the full Beaver Moon is now high in the sky, the last of four consecutive supermoons to brighten our night skies since August.
Teddy the labrador nuzzles among the leaf litter unaware. A startled muntjac thumps off through the bushes, unimpressed by our intrusion.
DISTANT MEMORY: golden afternoon hues PICTURE: Gel Murphy
The gleam seems surreal, the gold and russet hues of the afternoon a distant memory now that the moon “walks the night in her silver shoon”. This is the world of which Walter de la Mare wrote:
A harvest mouse goes scampering by, With silver claws and a silver eye; And moveless fish in the water gleam, By silver reeds in a silver stream.
It’s called the Beaver Moon, probably because beavers are particularly active at this time of year as they prepare for the winter months ahead before sheltering in their lodges, or because this is when Native American fur trappers would set beaver traps before the swamps froze to ensure a supply of warm winter furs.
Supermoons occur when the moon is at its closest point to the Earth, when it appears bigger and brighter than usual, providing a treat for stargazers and photographers alike.
The next supermoon does not occur until October next year, so it could be worth catching it over the next night or two while we can.
SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 17
THOUGHT the fungi season was over? Think again.
They may be lurking under leaf litter and hidden from view, but those metabolic marvels are definitely out there, using cocktails of potent enzymes and acids to break down some of the most stubborn substances on the planet.
METABOLIC MARVELS: mushrooms in the woods PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
They come in all shapes and sizes and a startling of array of colours and textures, but it’s only in recent years that we’ve begun to realise quite how remarkable these extraordinary life forms are.
Merlin Sheldrake helped to open our eyes to that world in his book Entangled Life, introducing us to a hugely diverse kingdom of organisms that support and sustain nearly all living systems.
When we think of fungi, we probably think of mushrooms. But mushrooms are only the fruiting bodies of fungi, where spores are produced and dispersed.
Fungi are everywhere around us, but largely hidden from view, undocumented and poorly understood despite, as Sheldrake argues, providing a key to understanding the planet on which we live.
Perhaps it’s time to give those intriguing life forms a second glance, then. They may not look much lurking among the leaf litter, but they have a genuinely intriguing story to tell about life on earth.
MONDAY, NOVEMBER 18
ANOTHER day, another wet wander in the woods, another stunning range of fungi to delight the senses.
This time it’s the wood-rotting turkeytail, a bracket fungus which comes in a glorious array of colours and takes its name from its similarity to turkeys’ fan-like tail feathers.
Watching the dogs snuffling among the fallen leaves may make us wonder what wonderful scents they are discovering.
But then our own powers of smell are quite extraordinary too, even though we tend to take it for granted that we can tell the difference between, say, mustard and coal, or different fruits, herbs and flowers.
It’s said we have the capacity to detect a trillion different odours and can split complex mixtures into their constituent chemicals. But animals, plants and fungi do the same, changing their behaviour in response to the scent signals around them.
Truffle fungi use chemicals to communicate to animals their readiness to be eaten, for example, and the huge sums paid by top chefs for ripe truffles ensure that truffle hunting is a business steeped in dark tales of skulduggery.
So valuable are those white truffles of Piedmont or Perigord black truffles that all kinds of crimes have been committed by unscrupulous souls eager to cash in.
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 19
THERE are flakes of snow falling and the temperature has plummeted, but there’s a final chance to reflect on the magical properties of those extraordinary organisms under our feet.
MAGICAL PROPERTIES: the humble mushroom PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
The rich autumn colours are still vibrant in the Chilterns, but cold air from the north is sweeping across the country and schools across Scotland, Wales and the north are closing in preparation for the anticiated snowfall.
There’s just time to savour some of those remarkable fungi before they disappear beneath the falling leaves, not to mention any potential snow and slush.
It’s at this time of year that Merlin Sheldrake takes us to the hills around Bologna at the height of the truffle season to find out at first hand about the secret world of those spore-producing organs.
Closer to home, we meet a dog walker deep in the woods using a ball coated in truffle oil to practise scent work with his faithful companion. Truffle hunting may be big business in France and Italy, but across the UK there are training workshops and experience days for those wanting to discover more about the subtle art.
For Sheldrake, part of the fascination of mycorrhizal fungi like truffles is not just the symbiotic relationship between fungus and plant roots, but the way this involves understanding the importance of subtle variations in soil, season and climate: a intellectually stimulating mix of disciplines from agriculture and forestry to microbiology, ecology and climate change.
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 20
THE frost is penetrating and we walk under a canopy of branches where yellow leaves fall like rain.
A pair of blackbirds, brazen as ever, rootle among the crispy leaf litter oblivious to the proximity of our huge, curious black labrador.
SANTA’S HELPER: the humble robin PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Back at the kitchen door, a robin cocks his head expectantly. Folklorists recall a variety of superstitions surrounding Britain’s favourite garden bird, used by generations of parents as a warning to children that “Santa’s robin” was keeping a watchful eye over their behaviour in the run-up to Christmas, reporting regularly back to the North Pole.
Tame and friendly, the birds have had a place in our hearts for centuries, prompting one aggrieved magazine writer in the early 18th century to ask why people had “so good an esteem of this bird” given that the robin was “as malicious and envious a bird as any that flies”.
Yet the common belief was that of all wild birds, the robin was not to be harmed. As A E Bray put it in 1838: “Very few children in this town would hurt the redbreast, as it is considered unlucky to do so; this bird being entitled to kindness… above every other.”
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 21
IF plummeting temperatures bring an icy chill to the Chilterns countryside, the cold also lures wildlife into closer contact with their human neighbours.
CHILL WIND: the first snowfall of winter PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Clear skies bring out the sun, offering photographers the prospect of capturing better portraits of more elusive garden visitors like nervous muntjac or a hungry red-legged partridge.
GARDEN GUEST: the red-legged partridge PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Pictured against ice-covered fields or snuffling through the fallen foliage, this is the time to catch a glimpse of an elusive fox or badger hunting for food, an owl swooping low at dusk or hungry birds silhouetted against bare branches.
A GLORIOUSLY clear night sky may have been a delight for stargazers, but bone-chilling temperatures meant many ramblers were content to gather round the fire rather than venture out into the frosty fields to survey the heavens.
The correspondingly icy start meant slippery footpaths and chilly looking wildlife until the weak afternoon sun brought a little warmth and light back into the landscape.
COLD COMFORT: horses enjoy a nuzzle PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
The autumn colours are still evident, but the frosts have taken their toll on the trees and much of the colour is now on the ground, in great drifts of crisp leaves. And with storms forecast, we have perhaps now passed the peak days for “leaf peeping”.
BROWN CARPET: fallen leaves in the woods PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
As dusk falls amid the trunks of a soaring conifer plantation we hear the reassuringly rasping “koch koch” calls of a dozen pheasants taking refuge among the trees.
Our evening stroll is punctuated by their brief moments of panic: one male rushes out of the undergrowth in his chestnut tweed suit, white silk scarf and big red cheeks, jinking and twisting down the path like a ridiculously overdressed sprinter trying to avoid a hail of gunfire.
LIGHT FROSTING: a frozen track PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
In the trees above, the mumbling and grumbling continues, punctuated by an occasional unearthly crow of alarm and drumming of wings as another victim is flushed and neighbours echo the call of alarm.
We leave them to their peace, roosting in the chilly branches as night falls fast, draining all remaining colour from the woods.
SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 21
AT DAWN, there are only the most modest signs that Storm Bert is on the way: grey clouds scudding across the sky and some ominous waving of upper branches.
The temperature is milder than it’s been of late, in the Chilterns at least. But from the north come warnings of heavy snow, strong winds and blizzards, with the prospect of flooding and widespread travel disruption.
CALM BEFORE THE STORM: high winds are forecast PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
By mid-afternoon the deluge is well and truly under way and the winds are getting up, with country parks and Burnham Beeches closed because of the dangers of falling branches. It won’t be a great day for pictures, but luckily we have yesterday’s to remind us of just how cold we’ve been. . .
WARMING UP: temperatures are rising PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 24
STORM Bert is still rustling its way through the Chilterns woodlands, but while this windy weekend is stripping much of the natural colour from our trees, there are villages and towns across the region lighting up with Christmas trees and seasonal decorations.
Traditionalists may despair that the switching on of Christmas lights marks the start of a secular spending spree in the run-up to the holiday period, but for Christians Advent, which begins next Sunday, is the start of the liturgical year, a four-week-long period of reflection on the coming of Christ into the world at his birth.
Advent candles symbolise the four themes of hope, peace, love and joy associated with the arrival of Jesus and mark a time of shared meditation and prayer in Protestant, Roman Catholic, Orthodox and other Christian traditions.
TIME OF PRAYER: All Saints, Marlow PICTURE: Phil Laybourne
MONDAY, NOVEMBER 25
AFTER the ravages of Storm Bert, what a delight to see the sun again and realise that the golden glow of autumn is not a distant memory quite yet.
All trees rely on leaves to capture carbon in the form of carbon dioxide from the atmosphere through photosynthesis and scientists are still finding out just why trees have evolved leaves of so many different shapes and structures.
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 26
WHY do conifers have thick needle-shape leaves whereas deciduous trees like maples have thin, flat leaves? Why are some leaves thicker than others?
CLEAR SKIES: colour contrasts outside Amersham PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
We don’t know all the answers but it’s partly about capturing carbon as efficiently as possible according to local conditions.
In recent decades, scientists have discovered that leaf longevity is the cornerstone of two distinct strategies for trees: slow return on investment versus fast return.
CARBON CAPTURE: harnessing energy PICTURE: Gel Murphy
In harsher environments, where nutrients are scarce and the growing season is short, those thin evergreen needles acquire carbon over the long term and improve nutrient conservation, whereas short-lived leaves favour rapid carbon acquisition
Where resources like sunlight, water, and nutrients are plentiful, deciduous species generally thrive and outcompete evergreens, growing quickly and shedding their leaves once the growing season ends.
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 27
CHALK streams are fascinating. A distinctive feature of the Chilterns landscape, they are important habitats for wildlife and support a massive range of species, including some of our most threatened plants and animals such as water vole and brown trout.
IMPORTANT HABITAT: the Misbourne PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Of all the world’s chalk streams, 85% are in Southern and Eastern England, making them one of the world’s rarest habitats, the most diverse of all English rivers and home to a profusion of invertebrates, fish, birds and mammals.
Despite being such rare ecosystems of global significance and having an intriguing history, supporting many thriving industries in the past, they are also under threat from a variety of dangers, from over-extraction to pollution, population growth, the HS2 project and invasive species.
WILD ON THE WATER: birds on the Misbourne PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Of the 283 English chalk streams, nine are in the Chilterns, among them the Wye, Chess and Misbourne, flowing south-eastwards down the chalk escarpment towards the River Colne and the Thames.
From ancient times, permanent settlements began to emerge clustered around the chalk streams and industries of all types have thrived over the millennia along the banks, from watercress beds to dozens of mills turning grain into flour and rags into paper.
RIVERBANK LIFE: a thrush looks for food PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Waterside locations have also been used for spiritual and religious activity since prehistoric times, from the Bronze Age burnt mounds on the Chess to Roman shrines and temples on the Ver and Hamble Brook.
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 28
FROM wind and rain to chilly nights and frosty mornings, November can be a fickle month. But when the sun finally breaks through the clouds or dawn breaks on a clear day, there’s nothing more uplifting.
Sunlight shapes how we feel about the world, and it bathes our landscape in a range of glorious colours, from the lilacs and oranges of a misty morning ramble to the rosy glow of a mid-afternoon outing.
ROSY GLOW: a goldfinch poses for the camera PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
And if it’s great for our health and wellbeing, even during winter, it’s good for our photography too, giving depth and contrast to our portraits of local wildlife.
DIFFERENT LIGHT: sunlight gives portraits depth PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Access to natural light during the day helps to improve our sleep, productivity and mood, but it seems we are spending longer and longer indoors: up to 90% of our days, according to one recent study. And as jobs become more automated and computer-focused, we are becoming even more severed from our natural environments.
How energising then to be out on the banks of a chalk stream on a frosty morning watching the mist rise on the water, escaping our screens and embracing the light.
FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 29
THERE’S nothing to beat a glorious sunrise when it comes to boosting our spirits.
It may be bitterly cold outside, but when dawn banishes the dark, it brings a promise of hope and anticipation, of new beginnings and fresh adventures.
Back in Homer’s day, dawn was personified by the rosy-fingered goddess Eos (Aurora in Latin), rising from her marriage bed to bring light to us mortals.
But whether this is a moment for quiet reflection, joyful thanksgiving or thoughtful preparation for the day to come, lacing up our boots for that dawn outing can be good for the soul, as well as our health.
VAPOUR TRAILS: the skies over Amersham PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
It’s a chance to soak up the sights and sounds of nature in a very intimate and personal way, while our neighbours are still asleep and the countryside has not yet woken to the busy thrum of morning traffic or the pressures and time constraints of the school run.
EARLY SWIM: Rickmansworth Aquadrome PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Wrapped up warm against the frost, walking in nature clears the mind of busy thoughts, each step part of a gentle rhythm keeping us in touch with the earth and alert to the sounds and movements of the wildlife braving the elements alongside us.
SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 30
LIGHT cheers us up in times of darkness. It reminds us that winter won’t last forever, and the sun will someday return.
Across ancient Europe, pagan peoples like the Anglo-Saxons celebrated the solar solstices and equinoxes, while the Celtic peoples marked the four midpoints between them.
CHEERING SIGHT: Christmas lights PICTURE: Phil Laybourne
Around the world, all the great winter holiday celebrations focus around light, and from the 1800s Christmas lights were added to the mix of candles, lamps, fireworks and roaring yule logs, reminding us of the divine connotations of the holiday season.
For early civilisations, the celebrations paid homage to the “invincible sun” that plays such a central role in our daily lives.
Hanukkah is also known as the festival of lamps and recalls how, following the reclaiming of the Temple of Jerusalem, a tiny cask of oil was made to last eight days — a token that God was still present with His people.
The Hindu festival of light, Diwali, is a time of music, feasting, family time and new beginnings while across the Pond, the seven candles in the kinara represent the seven principles of Kwanzaa, the holiday celebrated by African Americans, and people of the African diaspora, since 1966.
For Christians, the Star of Bethlehem may have inspired the custom of placing lights in Christmas trees, while Advent Sunday marks the start of the liturgical year, with advent candles symbolising the four themes of hope, peace, love and joy associated with the arrival of Jesus.
At a time of war and suffering, light represents the presence of divinity or enlightenment, a reminder of the first Biblical miracle recounted in Genesis, Chapter 1, Verse 3: “And there was light.”
We’re enormously grateful, as always, to the talented photographers who have allowed us to publish their pictures this month. If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to our future calendar entries, join our Facebook group page or write to editor@thebeyonder.co.uk.
IT’S hard to imagine the problems of getting around the Chilterns before the age of motorised transport and properly surfaced roads.
And it’s a thought that often comes to mind a lot around Holtspur and Beaconsfield, for a variety of reasons.
Not least it’s the awareness that transport has played such a seminal role in the growth and prosperity of the town across the centuries, and how much has changed since the heyday of horse-drawn travel.
HISTORY LESSON: the Royal Saracen’s Head in Beaconsfield
Today, the constant thrum of traffic barrelling along the nearby motorway and clogging the other main local arteries is a reminder of just how much of a transport hub this town has always been.
But back in the 17th century it must have been an innkeeper’s dream. Having grown up around the crossing between the London to Oxford and Windsor to Aylesbury roads, as stagecoach traffic expanded, the town found itself perfectly placed for overnight stops.
Towards the end of the 18th century coaches were heading through to Oxford and beyond: Woodstock, Banbury, Bicester, Cheltenham, Gloucester and Shrewsbury.
But we have short memories, it seems. Our familiarity with horses spans so many centuries, yet for modern generations the thought of life before the motor car is hard to even visualise.
Glimpses into past times like period dramas on television may remind us of that lost reality, but even faced with scenes from Downton Abbey or a Jane Austen film, we may still struggle to grasp what it actually felt like to rely on horses for so many different purposes.
Horses had been used in transport and battle by the end of the Iron Age, and Caesar encountered thousands of war chariots when he invaded in 55BC. They would remain the primary source of power for agriculture, mining, transport and warfare until the arrival of the steam engine hundreds of years later.
Nowhere would that have been more evident than around these parts, but we tend to forget that our ancestors needed to travel too, and for centuries that would have involved horses.
LONG HISTORY: the humble horse
There are dozens of different names for horse-drawn carriages, from carts and wagons to broughams, hansom cabs, charabancs and landaus. And there are dozens of jobs that were once reliant on horse-drawn travel too: not just the riders and grooms, but the blacksmiths, wheelwrights and coachmakers, farriers and saddlers.
Long into the railway era horses were still required to pull trolleys and omnibuses, carriages, delivery carts and brewery wagons.
And right up to the end of the 19th century, families around the world were dependent on the horse, with cities dominated by thousands of horse-drawn vehicles, as well as being swamped in urine and manure.
CRUCIAL ROLE: horses were integral to the economy
A glance through some old pictures of this part of the Chilterns at the dawn of the 20th century proves the point.
The Bourne End Residents Association published a collection of old photographs from their archives in 1985 called The Way It Was, with views of the parishes of Wooburn, Little Marlow and Hedsor.
From the baker’s cart to the doctor’s carriage or brewer’s dray, the years at the start of the 20th century show the last years of horse-drawn traffic before cars really start to take a hold.
LONELY BYWAY: a flashback in time
Even today it’s possible to find deserted byways across the Chilterns where it would not feel out of place to see a pony and trap appearing round the bend.
But of course the transport revolution was impossible to resist, on both sides of the Atlantic, and when Henry Ford revolutionised the cost of motoring in 1913 with the Model T, there was no going back.
When madcap motorist Toad of Toad Hall burst into our imaginations in 1908 with the publication of The Wind In The Willows, it was clear that cars were here to stay.
TRANSPORT REVOLUTION: roads were of poor quality
The mass production of automobiles gave the middle classes as well as the wealthy the opportunity to savour the appeal the open road, even if there were few adequate roads on which to drive them.
Looking at the gruelling 1 in 10 gradients that characterise the narrow roads leading down into the Wye Valley from Flackwell Heath, Hedsor and Cliveden, it’s hard to imagine a horse showing much enthusiasm at the prospect of such an ascent, however light their load.
Perhaps it would look like the old nag portrayed by Thomas Hardy in the opening pages of The Woodlanders, “whose hair was of the roughness and colour of heather, whose leg-joints, shoulders and hoofs were distorted by harness and drudgery from colthood”.
HORSE SENSE: modern horses are well cared for PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
But we also know that even ancient peoples took good care of their horses and saw them as prized and valuable assets.
Whatever the reality of life on the backroads of Buckinghamshire at the tail end of the 19th century, we can guess such journeys were time-consuming and often far from comfortable, if a lot less unsafe than they were in the age of marauding highwaymen.
But even today on those Chilterns back roads, it’s not hard to imagine the clip-clop of hooves taking the path in a previous century during the age before the motor car where horses really did reign supreme.
ATMOSPHERIC: a farm path near Hedgerley
Melissa Harrison captures the apparent immutability of the horse-drawn era in her evocative novel All Among The Barley when her youthful narrator writes:
“We would bring each golden field home in the wagon and I would ride atop the last one bearing a green bough like Demeter, in triumph, Moses and Malachi ringing their harness bells proudly as they hauled the final load home.
“Then the rick-yard would be full of wheat and barley, Father would be himself again and we would sit down all together for a harvest meal. In autumn we would plough and harrow and drill once more, and when the steam tackle came we would thresh, and afterwards sell the piles of bright grain.
“No more harm would ever come to us, and so it would go on forever, world without end: the elms always sheltering our old farmhouse, the church looking out over the fields. For the fields were eternal, our life the only way of things, and I would do whatever was required of me to protect it. How could it be otherwise?”
Not only can they sniff their way round one of the friendliest parks in the Chilterns, but footpaths lead off in virtually every direction across the valley offering the prospect of more adventurous outings.
WELCOMING: Wooburn Park
All credit to the local parish council for making Wooburn Park so welcoming to different sectors of the community.
For somewhere that’s so busy with four-legged friends of all shapes and sizes, it’s kept remarkably clean and litter free.
From young footballers to weekend cricket matches and floodlit tennis, it’s not just dog walkers who are catered for here, but somehow the different needs are met with the minimum of conflict.
DIFFERENT NEEDS: the park caters for various sports
In any major city, the sheer number of users would quickly see such a substantial park rapidly becoming a mess. But it helps that as well as regular patrols to empty the litter bins, the locals are happy to chip in too.
There aren’t any statistics to prove just how many people own a dog round here, but it sometimes seems as if there’s a four-legged friend on every street corner, and certainly all breeds are represented at Wooburn.
They’re a considerate bunch too: it’s rare to see someone not bothering to clean up after their pooch and organisers of those football clashes are also good at making sure their young charges don’t leave their rubbish behind.
Bins are well used, with local litterpickers helping to sweep up any odds and ends that may get blown into the undergrowth.
OPEN ASPECT: the footpath to Flackwell
Other well cared for open spaces range from Hervines Park at Amersham to Gold Hill Common in Chalfont St Peter and Gerrards Cross common.
But Wooburn is not only bigger than most but also well fenced in and in a glorious location, with views over the valley opposite and the Wye chalkstream running cheerfully down one side.
And at one end of the park lies the Warren Nature Reserve, a delightful enclave of woods and wildflowers by the river, which provides the perfect habitat for many wildfowl and other birds, from herons and kingfishers to swans, ducks and geese.
WOODED ENCLAVE: entering the nature reserve
Once home to a medieval manor house with chestnut trees lining the main path, today the 5.7 acre reserve boasts an array of English woodland trees and a picturesque wildlife pond, as well as a number of paths winding through the ashes, oaks, limes and elms.
NATURE RESERVE: swans on the Wye in The Warren
Back in the days of the Domesday Book, the manor boasted a couple of dozen households. Before the Norman conquest it was owned by Earl Harold; afterwards it was confiscated by William the Conqueror and split between two of his supporters.
At that time, the picturesque River Wye generated enough power to drive 20 mills and in later centuries the Wye Valley became a major centre for papermaking.
WILDLIFE POND: in The Warren
Soho Mill opposite the Old Bell closed in 1984 and Glory Mill was the last mill to close in 1999, part of the building now preserved at the Chiltern Open Air Museum.
Back in the park, there are cheerful shouts from the children’s play area while a dozen different breeds chase balls and each other until energy levels start to flag.
PICTURESQUE: the church in Wooburn Town
Perched on the edge of Wooburn Town, where the picturesque church of St Paul’s has been a holy place for over a thousand years, the park is as welcoming as it is bustling, a green space in the heart of the village catering for visitors of all ages, whatever the weather.
AS PRETTY country parishes go, Wooburn has a lot to recommend it.
Following the curving valley of the River Wye chalkstream from near Loudwater until it joins the River Thames near Cookham, this was always a place where the rich soil was easily worked and the meadows and woodlands made it a desirable place to live.
VALLEY VIEWS: looking down from Farm Wood
Sweeping views across the valley reveal a plethora of green spaces to explore, among them the delightful wildlife haven of Farm Wood, much enjoyed by dog walkers but easily overlooked by anyone passing through the village on the main road to Bourne End.
WILDLIFE HAVEN: Farm Wood
One of a number of open spaces cared for by Wooburn and Bourne End Parish Council, it lies just off Broad Lane at the top of Wash Hill, so anyone accessing the wood from the village has a reasonably stiff climb ahead of them.
UPHILL JOURNEY: the footpath to Farm Wood
But a small car parking area off the main road provides an easier starting point for dog walkers, and a level bridleway leads off towards the pretty hamlet of Berghers Hill and on to Mill Wood.
YOU ARE HERE: a guide to the local wildlife
This level route is popular with ramblers, being easily built in to a circular route encompassing Hedsor and Littleworth Common, or a more challenging 5km circuit encompassing the tougher gradients to be found in both woods.
CIRCULAR ROUTES: the wood is popular with ramblers
At the Broad Lane entrance, a parish council sign points out some of the main wildlife attractions to watch out for, including woodmice and tawny owls, slow worms and weasels.
PICNIC SPOT: benches for families
Picnic benches at both ends of the bridleway can be glorious on a summer’s day, although some of the paths can get muddy in winter.
SPLASH OF COLOUR: rhododendrons in bloom
Bluebells, rhododendrons and foxgloves add a splash of colour in the spring and there are plenty of mature trees to add to the appeal of this little oasis.
OPEN ASPECT: the outlook from Farm Wood
Towards the lower end of the wood a footpath cuts diagonally across open fields towards Wooburn Park, with views across the Wye Valley – perfect for anyone dropped off at the top of the ridge and wanting an easy downhill saunter into the village.
WOODLAND WANDER: mature trees soar around the rambler
More tables clustered around a small pond offer another picnic venue in the depths of the wood, with additional information boards for nature-conscious visitors.
POND AREA: another picnic venue
It’s not huge, but Farm Wood is well cared for and a perfect place to unwind, hidden away from the busy main roads that criss-cross the area.
PEACEFUL: a footpath near Berghers Hill
Berghers Hill is a picturesque conservation area which was the home of Kate Frye (Mrs Kate Collins), an Edwardian actress, suffragist activist and diarist whose home was at Hill Top from the latter part of the First World War.
As recounted by the suffrage historian Elizabeth Crawford, it was there that Kate chronicled when war ended in November 1918 and there too, perched on the ridge above Wooburn Green, that she recounted the drone of German planes overhead for hour after hour in September 1940, along with “a great red glow over London”.
TAKE A BREAK: picnic tables at Berghers Hill
Thankfully the paths around the settlement are a great deal quieter today, perhaps the perfect place to take a seat in the sun and catch up with Crawford’s painstakingly researched biography of Kate Parry Frye, whose diary ran from the late 1890s to 1958.
Alternatively, carry on walking to WIndsor Hill and you find yourself in Mill Wood, a relatively narrow strip of land above Wooburn Green bordered by busy roads.
LEVEL PATH: Mill Wood
It’s not as picturesque or peaceful as Farm Wood, but the flat main path towards Holtspur is popular with dog walkers and those wanting to tackle some more testing gradients can loop up and down through the ferns and foxgloves towards the valley bottom.
POPULAR: Mill Wood is a favourite with dog walkers
Depending on the wind direction, it’s not always possible to escape the roar of traffic from the nearby motorway and busy A roads, and on a bad day locals are none too happy about the “foul stench” emanating from the landfill site at Springfield Farm Quarry.
CALM SURROUNDINGS: an old tree in Mill Wood
But despite such distractions, paths through the private wood offer a calming space where echoes of modern life can quickly fade away, especially on a spring morning when the sound of birdsong is at its peak.
heading up into the wood
Most dog walkers park at the top of Windsor Hill and opt for the easy path, but those wanting a more challenging circuit can loop round to the bottom of the valley and head back across the fields, or take one of the circular rambles mentioned earlier.
Another option is to head the other side of Farm Wood and pick up the Berkshire loop of the Chiltern Way towards Hedsor and Cookham.
WALKING ROUTE: the Berkshire Loop
The Berkshire Loop is a 28-mile walking route diverging from the Chiltern Way south of Penn, crossing the Thames at Cookham Bridge and taking in Winter Hill, Ashley Hill and Remenham Hill before re-crossing the Thames at Henley Bridge to rejoin the Chiltern Way in Harpsden Bottom.
DELIGHTFUL: foxgloves line the path in May
Off this well-trodden path lies a delightful private wood much treasured by locals where you can get permission to walk on request.
WILD FRAGRANCE: among the evergreens
It’s such an oasis of calm that its precise location is worth protecting, but contact details are on the gate for those happy to respect the peace of the place, which remains gloriously free of litter, poo bags and the other detritus that can plague public parks.
WILD FRAGRANCE: among the evergreens
Here, amid the glorious fragrance of soaring evergreens, a basic figure of eight loop gives joggers and dog walkers a chance to find a place of calm away from the hustle and bustle of the modern world.
SPLASH OF COLOUR: rhododendrons flower in May
As in other local woods, bluebells carpet some of the dells in April, foxgloves line the paths in May and rhododendrons add to the splashes of colour against the backdrop of greens and browns.
To complete the full circuit involves some challenging gradients for those less fleet of foot, but to be deep among the trees as dusk starts to fall is to find a very special place of solace and respite, of refreshment and renewal.
WALKING ROUTE: back on the Berkshire Loop
Back on the Berkshire Loop towards Hedsor and the Thames, or returning to Farm Wood, Wooburn locals can relish the fact that their ancient valley offers so much space to roam and so much variety in its landscape.
SPACE TO ROAM: heading towards Hedsor
Slow Ways is an initiative to create a national network of paths, ways and trails designed to encourage people to leave the car at home and get back in touch with nature, on foot.
In the fields and woods around Wooburn, we have just such a network on our doorstep, and for hundreds of local families it’s a daily delight to escape into the fields and woods that make it such a special place to live.
SEPTEMBER. Suddenly, there’s a chill in the morning air.
It’s as if nature knows you have just changed the month on the kitchen calendar and wants to tell you to forget all about those long humid dog days of summer – autumn is definitely on its way.
It’s the time of year when we dust off our warmer coats and cardies and bemoan the loss of those long summer evenings.
SIGN OF THE TIMES: a footpath outside Amersham PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
It’s not as if this should be a surprise. Days have been shortening since the summer solstice. But it’s the pace of change that suddenly seems to quicken.
From late May until near the end of July, sunset in the south-east is after 9pm. But we lose around three minutes of daylight every day from August through to late November…it just may take us a little time to notice.
CHILL IN THE AIR: sunset over Chesham PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
That’s why, on a crisp morning in early September, we suddenly start muttering about the nights drawing in and winter being around the corner.
The children have settled into the new school year after the long holidays, universities are reopening their doors and dramatic skies are warning us of more changeable weather to come.
EVENING LIGHT: the sun casts a warm glow over farmland PICTURE: Sarah How
Even though in practice September is often a month of long hours of sunshine and relatively warmth, sunset is now before 8pm and will be almost an hour earlier by the end of the month.
Psychologically, those long sunny summer evenings are already feeling like a distant memory, especially with the children back at school after the long holidays.
The colour palette is subtly changing too, the greens gradually giving way to golds, russets and browns.
NATURAL PATTERNS: a study in textures PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
It’s still getting light early, and we’re woken by the reassuring honking of geese flying past in perfect formation – just one of some 4,000 species of birds around the world migrating in search of milder weather and more plentiful food.
It’s a friendly sound, as if the family are having a lively conversation, although scientists speculate that it is actually a way of keeping the flock together on their long flights, with those behind honking encouragement to the ones in front.
MORNING CALL: a small skein of pink-footed geese PICTURE: Tim Melling
The shape makes sense too, creating uplift for the bird immediately behind and adding much more flying range than if a bird flew on its own.
They swap positions en route, so that when the lead goose gets tired, it rotates further back in the ‘V’ and another goose heads up front.
TEAM SPIRIT: wild Canada geese in North America PICTURE: Tim Melling
Even more amazingly (and much quoted on team-building courses around the world), when a goose gets sick or is wounded and falls out of formation, a couple of other geese obligingly fall out with their companion and follow it down to lend help and protection, staying with the fallen goose until it is able to fly or until it dies; only then do they set off to catch up with the rest of the group.
The geese aren’t the only ones of the wing. The skies are hectic with criss-crossing migrants and down at the local gravel pit the numbers of gulls and cormorants will be building.
KNOTS LANDING: knots and dunlins at the Humber Estuary PICTURE: Tim Melling
Around the country from the Tweed estuary to Flamborough Head in Yorkshire and Spurn Head at the mouth of the Humber, birds are arriving in huge numbers, pausing before pushing on with their remarkable journeys.
Bats and owls are busy too, while baby birds like tits, robins, blackbirds and starlings are beginning to look a lot less scruffy as autumn approaches.
SHOWER TIME: baby blue tits get spruced up PICTURE: Nick Bell
Meanwhile in the woods, it’s conker season for pupils wandering home from school and the acorns have been dropping like rainfall.
As botanist and author @LeifBersweden puts it: “One of my favourite September activities is to sit in the sun near an oak tree, close my eyes and listen for the quiet plick-plock-thump of acorns pinballing between branches before falling to the ground. It might not sound like much, but that sound is just utterly wonderful.”
FUNGUS FORAY: many of the more colourful toadstools and berries are poisonous
Fungi are springing up on dead trees and fallen branches to the woodland floor and spiders are out in force, spinning their elaborate webs, intricate patterns glistening in the morning dew.
The foragers are out looking for mushrooms and other edible delicacies, although many of the toadstools and berries are far from safe.
Start nibbling the fly agaric, destroying angel, death cap or white bryony and you could face vomiting and diarrhoea, stomach cramps, hallucinations and even death. Maybe not such a great idea for the uninitiated, then.
Ants and hornets are busy at work building their nests in the woods, bats are swarming and the baby moorhens are skittering around on their lily pad rafts.
Hedgerows, shrubs and trees are bursting with berries, fruits and nuts, providing a welcome feast for birds and small mammals and a welcome splash of colour in the woods.
Some babies are still being looked after carefully by doting parents, while others are getting their first taste of independence ahead of the harder winter months.
MUM’S THE WORD: mother and fawn enjoy a family moment PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Some dragonflies are still on the wing too for those photographers with the patience, stealth and a zoom or macro lens for close-up shots.
ON THE WING: a migrant hawker dragonfly PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Around the country, harvest has been under way for weeks, with early finishes in some areas where the weather has allowed, and heavy rain delaying the combines elsewhere.
Normally falling towards the end of September or early October, the harvest thanksgiving festival dates from pagan times, traditionally held on the Sunday nearest the Harvest Moon, the full moon closest to the autumn equinox (September 22 or 23).
Once Lammas Day at the beginning of the harvest season on August 1 was the time of celebration, when farmers made loaves of bread from the new wheat crop and gave them to their local church for ‘loaf Mass’ to be used as the Communion bread during a special mass thanking God for the harvest.
THANK THE LORD: a prosperous harvest was a time for prayer and thanksgiving
The custom ended when Henry VIII broke away from the Catholic Church and nowadays we have harvest festivals at the end of the season which usually include singing hymns, praying, dancing and decorating churches with baskets of fruit and food.
Michaelmas Day is traditionally the last day of the harvest season: the feast of Saint Michael the Archangel on September 29. St. The patron saint of the sea, ships and boatmen, of horses and horsemen, he was the Angel who hurled Lucifer down from Heaven for his treachery.
In the past, the harvest festival differed, based on when all the crops had been brought in, and was a matter of life and death that would involve the whole community working together, including children.
LAND OF PLENTY: harvest was once a matter of life or death PICTURE: Sarah How
A prosperous harvest would allow a community to be fed throughout the potentially barren winter months and would be cause for much celebration.
As an occasion steeped in superstition, it’s no surprise that so many ancient customs and folklore pre-date Christianity but still reflect the importance of crop gathering and the reverence in which the harvest was held.
Even 150 years ago all the work was done by hand – including the cutting of cereal crops like wheat, barley and oats – and everyone was roped in to help out, including wives, children and roaming groups of migrant labourers who would seek employment from farms at the start of the season, especially in the eastern arable counties.
HARVEST HOME: hi-tech help in the fields PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Gathering sheaves into stooks was back-breaking work too and days were long, from 5am till dusk, but the compensation was extra pay, a midday meal and often all the beer or cider needed to keep a labourer going through a hot day.
After the harvest came the celebration – one of the great village festivals shared by all the local community and culminating in an evening of dancing and merry-making.
With daytime temperatures occasionally still straying up into the 20s, it’s clear that summer’s not quite over – but as September moves into October it’s the changing colours of our deciduous trees that provide one of the big natural spectacles of the year.
RICH PICKINGS: hedgerows are bursting with berries PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Coupled with the bright red flashes of the berries and fungi, the glow of those dramatic sunsets and the spectacular hues of our birds and insects, it’s the perfect time to venture back into the woods and soak up some of that autumnal sunshine before winter really takes a grip.
As always, we’d like to give a very big thank you to all the keen local photographers who have allowed us to use their work this month. If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to future calendar entries, contact editor@thebeyonder.co.uk on email or via our Facebook group page.
ONCE upon a time it was known for its cherry and apple orchards.
These days it’s easy to miss the little hamlet of Three Households, perched on the edge of a Domesday Book village with a much better known high street.
SMALL HAMLET: Three Households lies on the edge of Chalfont St Giles
Instantly recognisable as Walmington-on-Sea in the 1971 film version of Dad’s Army, Chalfont St Giles is where John Milton retired in 1665 to escape the Great Plague of London and complete his epic poem, Paradise Lost.
His cottage is still one of the main local tourist attractions, along with the pretty church, 18th-century cottages and picturesque duck pond.
LIMINAL SPACE: heading towards Hodgemoor Woods
But at the upper end of the village, Three Households is a liminal space close to the Seer Green parish border and to the impressive 250-acre expanse of Hodgemoor Woods, with its welcoming network of footpaths and bridleways.
And while it might seem almost as unremarkable as its name suggests to the casual motorist whizzing past, Three Households is a gateway to the great outdoors that locals really relish.
GATEWAY: exploring the great outdoors
Being on the edge of the village, the footpaths here skirt paddocks and fields where horses graze contentedly: a world of farms, livery stables and substantial country estates where the lights of the village instantly fall away as evening dog walkers disappear into the dusk.
EVENING LIGHT: dusk falls over Three Households
During the day, ramblers can enjoy big skies and sweeping views, a pleasant contrast to the dappled depths of Hodgemoor, where it’s only too easy to lose your bearings on a circuitous path through the ancient trees.
BIG SKIES: heading north
With little light pollution, it’s the perfect place to see the stars, or even capture the aurora borealis on one of those rare occasions when the light show can be seen in the south of England.
LIGHT SHOW: the aurora borealis at Three Households
2024 saw a number of nights when the Northern Lights were visible in the area, bright, swirling curtains of lights in the night sky that range in colour from green to pink and scarlet.
SWIRLING CURTAIN: the Northern Lights
They’re caused by charged particles from the sun hitting gases in the Earth’s atmosphere, and here those particles put on a real display, just yards from the main road.
DRAMATIC DISPLAY: changing colours
Sunsets and sunrises can be equally dramatic around these parts, and skirting along the edge of Hodgemoor Wood, it doesn’t take long to pick up the Chiltern Way north of the woods, with more dramatic open vistas to enjoy.
CHANGING VISTA: sunset at Hodgemoor
From there, ramblers can head further afield towards Coleshill, loop back round through the centre of Chalfont St Giles or head back through open fields towards the cover of Hodgemoor.
CHILTERN WAY: the Red Lion at Coleshill
Armed with a Chiltern Society handbook, you could also explore a substantial part of the Chilterns Heritage Trail, a 52-mile circular walk through the Chiltern Hills created as a millennium project and revived by the society in recent years.
OPEN FIELDS: skirting around Hodgemoor
Locally, the trail runs from the Ivy House on the Amersham Road across the fields to the edge of Hodgemoor and on to Seer Green, Jordans and Chalfont St Peter before looping back to Chalfont St Giles.
CLOUD COVER: evening light at Three Households
Back at Three Households, those wanting to linger a little closer to home can just enjoy an evening wander through the fields and take in those dramatic skies without straying too far afield.
As views go, you couldn’t ask for a better outlook.
AUGUST is a time of plenty, when gardens are in full bloom and the combines are rolling across local farmland.
TIME OF PLENTY: harvest time in the Chilterns PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
It’s ironic that in recent years Britain’s farmers have an unlikely source to thank for thousands of us watching those crops being harvested with a more knowledgable eye.
Who would have thought that Jeremy Clarkson would end up as something of an agricultural hero, introducing a whole new generation of TV viewers to the trials and tribulations of farming life?
FRESH INSIGHTS: TV viewers tuned into farming PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Yet amid all the mysterious talk about spring beans and winter wheats, moisture content and disappointing yields, four series of Clarkson’s Farm have offered some unexpectedly revealing insights after Jeremy took personal charge of running the 1,000-acre Cotswolds farm near Chipping Norton that he bought back in 2008.
And despite all the hapless bumbling and frustrated swearing at the continual setbacks, we were treated to a warm-hearted gem of a series that potentially taught us more about farming than any other agricultural programme on the box.
OPEN OUTLOOK: the view from Chinnor Hill PICTURE: Anne Rixon
From cultivation to harvest, misty dawn starts to exhausted night shifts, the series introduced us to Clarkson as we have never seen him before, in a world where failures have real emotional and financial consequences.
The whole experience has changed his outlook too, he confesses. He told monthly magazine Farmers Guide back in 2021: “I get annoyed with what people think about farming. It’s either the huge barns in Texas where they brutally grow pigs or cows, or Kate Humble with a freshly scrubbed baby lamb on a clean bed of hay. Farming is somewhere in between.
CHANGED VIEWS: out in the fields PICTURE: Anne Rixon
“Farmers are trying to fill the supermarket shelves with cheap good food, and at the same time look after the countryside.
“Every one of them I talk to is responsible and doing this all the time, despite what is going on with Covid, Brexit or idiotic political decisions.
FRIENDLY FACES: sunflowers in August 2021 PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
“We should give farmers a lot more respect. We’re all eating what they produced.”
The majority of Chilterns crops are cereals like wheat and barley, used in a variety of foodstuffs from bread, cakes and biscuits to beer and whisky and part of the farmed landscape’s familiar patchwork of seasonal shades.
But there are glorious splashes of colour too, from sunflowers to poppies, from linseed and borage to oilseed rape, with its distinctive yellow flowers and pungent aroma.
FLYING HIGH: a kestrel at Whiteleaf Hill PICTURE: Anne Rixon
Those colours form part of a rich landscape famous for its windswept downlands, ancient woods, clear chalk streams and flower-filled meadows, home to a huge array of wildlife and plants.
Stretches of chalk grassland and pockets of ancient heathland offer habitats that are both rare and fragile, where butterflies dance in the breeze and lizards and snakes bask in the sun.
JOYFUL DANCE: a common blue butterfly PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
From the purple and yellow of heather and gorse on the heath to those glorious glimpses of butterflies and moths in the woods, this is a time of year when the countryside echoes to the buzz of insects and chirrup of crickets.
And above it all, from the cherry orchards to the sundrenched vineyards, the whistles of red kites are a welcome reminder of how birds which had become virtually extinct by the end of the 19th century have become commonplace in the Chilterns again.
WELCOME RETURN: the red kite PICTURE: Martin Allen
The birds are a favourite with photographers for their acrobatics and agility, as well as their glorious colours.
In Wales, the kite is a national symbol of wildlife and was even voted the country’s favourite bird in a public poll.
FIRM FAVOURITE: the poll-winning kite PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
While the arable farmers are busy with haymaking and silage collection, insects, birds and baby mammals are abundant too, the annual wildlife population at its highest this month, even if the birds are too busy moulting to make much noise.
ON THE PROWL: a hungry fox PICTURE: Martin Allen
Lambs born in the spring are back out in the fields, baby squirrels are beginning to put on weight and fox cubs are out playing and learning how to hunt as dusk falls.
Shy deer are losing their hiding places among the ripe crops as the combines gather in the grain and there’s a definitely chill in the morning and evening air that hints at the start of a new season, even if we are hoping there are plenty of sultry September days still to enjoy.
HIDING PLACE: a startled deer PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
According to meteorologists, August 31 marks the end of summer, although it’s too early for the real golds, reds and browns of autumn.
The start of the month saw the annual Big Butterfly Count organised by Butterfly Conservation, and although it’s too early for this year’s results, there have been widespread concerns about the long-term trends.
WORRYING TRENDS: butterflies and moths have declined in numbers
As well as forming a vital part of the food chain, butterflies and moths are considered significant indicators of the health of the environment.
VITAL ROLE: the speckled wood PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
As we mentioned last month, the UK has 59 species of butterflies – 57 resident species and two regular migrants (the painted lady and clouded yellow). Moths are much more numerous, as our 2021 post explained – and they can be equally colourful.
DISTINCTIVE: the six-spot burnet moth PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
One of the most common and distinctive is the six-spot burnet moth, one of half a dozen similar species in the UK but the only burnet moth with six red spots on its long, narrow, glossy black wings.
COMMON SIGHTING: the comma PICTURE: Ron Adams
Other common August sightings include the comma, painted lady, common blue and small tortoiseshell.
But getting close enough to picture these fluttering beauties clearly poses its own challenges, of course.
UP CLOSE: the gatekeeper PICTURE: Ron Adams
Close-up photography is a must to capture the small and intricate details of insects, using a macro lens and possibly a tripod.
But it takes patience to capture that perfect moment when an insect lands on a colourful flower and stays still long enough not to be an indistinct blur.
FAST MOVER: a dragonfly at Chinnor Lakes PICTURE: Anne Rixon
Flying insects provide even more of a challenge, with photographers needing to choose a fast shutter speed or use flash to freeze the action.
Despite the difficulties, wildlife photography brings plenty of rewards too, not least the opportunity to immerse yourself in the natural world and explore new surroundings.
DELICATE: dragonfly wings PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
For some, it’s not just a technical challenge but the opportunity to capture a pose that conveys the character or behaviour of the bird or insect.
For others the excitement lies in the juxtaposition of sunlight and shadow, or a dramatic contrast in textures.
CAUGHT ON CAMERA: a contrast in textures PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
But even if you don’t have the skill or equipment to capture an elusive weasel at dusk or a restless butterfly fluttering, just getting out and about in the summer countryside with a Smartphone is bound to offer some photographic possibilities.
Those glorious sunsets and the textures of stone against the greenery, scudding clouds or the gnarled bark of an ancient tree trunk…
LOOKING UP: cloud patterns at Amersham PICTURE: Gel Murphy
September is a big month for bird migration, with the British Isles a crossroads for millions of arrivals and departures, but the first to head south are already on the move in August.
Swallows, house martins and swifts are all migratory birds that winter in Africa. Swallows and house martin arrive back in the UK in late March to early April and leave again in September to October, but the swifts are first to leave, and young swallows and house martins are honing their flying skills and enjoying the abundance of insects before joining the exodus.
FEEDING FRENZY: insects are plentiful PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Other food is plentiful too, from bilberries and crabapples to wild damsons and mushrooms, ensuring a fertile feast for many species of birds, especially those eager to gorge on berries before their long migration.
Across the Chilterns, it still feels as if summer is with us, but this is a time when the leaves are beginning to dry out on plants and trees, flowers are fading and days are becoming shorter.
LAST BLOOMS: summer is starting to fade PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Whisper it quietly, but autumn is sneaking quietly in. We haven’t had the dramatic drop in temperature yet or the growing awareness that the leaves are beginning, ever so gradually, to change colour.
But it won’t be long, so enjoy the September sunshine while you can, before autumn finally makes its presence felt.
As always, we’d like to give a very big thank you to all the keen local photographers who have allowed us to use their work. If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to future calendar entries, contact editor@thebeyonder.co.uk on email or via our Facebook group page.
The adorable little black bundle who snuffled into our lives eight months ago is now a solid and substantial 36kg teenager with massive paws and a big heart.
An inquisitive, well-meaning black shadow around the house who’s always keen to keep an eye on what we’re up to, Teddy is as affectionate as he is enthusiastic.
But while that’s a winning combination when he’s calmly posing for a stroke from an obliging passer-by, one-year-old labradors aren’t always so good at controlling their emotions.
MOMENT OF CALM: Teddy basks in the sunshine
The frantic tail-wagging joy of a family reunion can be heartwarming, of course. But those huge paws can do a lot of damage and keeping them all on the ground when meeting exciting strangers can be a challenge.
Off the lead, he has the speed of a racehorse and the sound of those thundering paws charging towards you in the gloaming would be totally unnerving for anyone unaware of his cheerful demeanour and ability to neatly sidestep human obstacles at the very last moment.
TURN OF SPEED: Teddy steps up the pace
That means training is still a top priority, especially when it comes to improving recall and damping down reactivity to other dogs.
He’s getting better all the time, though progress is not always linear and setbacks can be disheartening.
AND HE’S OFF: putting recall to the test
Without booking a training field, nowhere in the Chilterns is sufficiently remote to guarantee there will be no unexpected encounters with people, dogs or horses. And in those circumstances, recall has to be 100 per cent reliable to avoid potential disaster.
Yes, there have been plenty of tiny triumphs: of being able to ignore distractions, walk neatly past other families without lunging or jumping, and settle down more quickly around both friends and strangers.
ON THE RIGHT PATH: beside the Thames
But it’s a gradual learning curve and persistence, patience and consistency hold the key, we’re told.
For relaxed snuffles in the woods we’ll try to steer clear of other distractions.
But the desensitising process does mean exposing Teddy to more challenging environments too: busier, narrower footpaths with more obstacles, like those down by the Thames at Bourne End, along with cafes and pub gardens.
USEFUL LESSONS: Kokoni-cross rescue Yella
A major “win” sees Teddy behaving himself on market day in St Albans, even able to walk round Waterstones without mishap.
And a day out with Lucy Parks and rescue dog Yella is a chance for Teddy to learn a few lessons from an older, calmer animal and for me to pick up some tips from an owner who has written so eloquently about her own journey into dogparenting.
DOG’S LIFE: Lucy’s articles for The Beyonder
We’re not alone in our concerns about trying to get things right, of course. The dog forums online are full of worries and calls for advice about biting or barking, pulling or jumping – and an assorted range of other behaviours.
Logging on to a useful webinar about mental stimulation and enrichment, it’s a surpise to find hundreds of other owners looking in, all with their own specific concerns about their pets, which come in all shapes and sizes.
CHILLING OUT: Teddy takes it easy
Perhaps it’s indicative of the post-Covid generation that there are more older dogs who were not properly socialised during lockdown or who suffered anxiety when their owners had to go back to work.
Maybe we’ve also become more aware of our pets’ needs. But in the unregulated world of dog training, there’s a LOT of conflicting advice. And in online forums, the exchanges can get pretty heated about the competing merits or drawbacks of harnesses and head collars, slip leads or training lines.
CAFE SOCIETY: learning how to stay calm in company
Teddy is getting there slowly, we think. And hopefully he’s enjoying the process as much as we enjoy having him in our lives.
There’s still a long way to go, but practice makes perfect: and we have plenty of lessons to learn too about how to provide the perfect home environment for a contented pet.
FEW writers have captured the mood of midsummer quite as colourfully and evocatively as the poet and novelist Laurie Lee.
We may not live in Gloucestershire but Lee’s portrait of summer still resonates just as strongly here in the Chilterns, especially after a month of warmer days and long golden evenings.
SCENTS OF SUMMER: hay bales outside Amersham PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Lee’s portrait of the country lanes of sleepy Gloucestershire at the tail end of the First World War was already a history lesson by the time his famous Cider With Rosie was published in 1959.
Yet there is an easy familiarity to many of his images that still manages to bring the countryside vividly to life as he recalls a lost boyhood world from an age before the Second World War and the invasion of the petrol engine.
He wrote: “Summer was also the time of these: of sudden plenty, of slow hours and actions, of diamond haze and dust on the eyes, of the valley in post-vernal slumber; of burying birds out of seething corruption; of Mother sleeping heavily at noon; of jazzing wasps and dragonflies, haystooks and thistle-seeds, snows of white butterflies, skylarks’ eggs, bee-orchids, and frantic ants; of wolf-cub parades and boy scouts’ bugles; of sweat running down the legs; of boiling potatoes on bramble fires, of flames glass-blue in the sun; of lying naked in the hill-cold stream; begging pennies for bottles of pop; of girls’ bare arms and unripe cherries, green apples and liquid walnuts; of fights and falls and new-scabbed knees, sobbing pursuits and flights; of picnics high up in the crumbling quarries, of butter running like oil, of sunstroke, fever and cucumber peel stuck cool to one’s burning brow.
SUNSET SONG: dusk over Stoke Common PICTURE: Andrew Knight
“All this, and the feeling that it would never end, that such days had come for ever…”
Of course the whole thrust of Lee’s memoir is that change was just round the corner: a way of life which had survived for hundreds of years would be altered forever by the arrival of motor cars and electricity, the death of the local squireand the declining influence of the church.
But he manages to freeze a moment in time for us with his mesmerising descriptions, not least that of his unforgettable encounter with the bewitching Rosie of the book’s title: “She was yellow and dusty with buttercups and seemed to be purring in the gloom; her hair was as rich as a wild bee’s nest and her eyes were full of stings.”
COLOURFUL CROP: poppies outside Amersham PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
The “real” Rosie, Lee’s cousin Rosalind Buckland, died in 2014 just days before her 100th birthday. But for generations of readers, she will always be remembered as the intoxicating Rosie Burdock, sharing a stone jar of cider under a hay wagon in the Cotswolds all those decades ago.
MAKING HAY: out on the farm PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
It’s the time of year when arable farmers are out and about haymaking and collecting silage which will be used to feed sheep and cattle during the winter months. July is the start of the combine season for cereal crops, so larger machines are an increasingly common sight in fields and on country roads.
For nature lovers, it’s the season to enjoy the antics of baby birds and squirrels, and probably the best month of the year for butterflies and moths.
Butterflies that usually fill meadows and woods this month include the ringlet, marbled white, dark green fritillary and silver-washed fritillary.
But butterfly numbers this year have been the lowest on record in the UK after a wet spring and summer dampened their chances of mating, Butterfly Conservation has warned.
The UK has 59 species of butterflies – 57 resident species and two regular migrants (the painted lady and clouded yellow). Moths are much more numerous, as our 2021 post explained – and they can be equally colourful.
It’s not only moths which are colourful, either. The distinctive striped cinnabar caterpillars turn into equally colourful pinkish-red and black moths, and they’ve been seen in abundance across the Chilterns this month as ragwort has flourished across the countryside.
TASTY TREAT: cinnabar moth caterpillars PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Detested by horse and pony owners for its poisonous attributes, the “toxic weed” has many supporters among conservationists as a native wildflower vital for pollinating insects, as our post from Stoke Common last summer explained.
But then July is the month of plenty, from beetles to baby hedgehogs, spiders to hairy caterpillars, all popping up against the glorious backdrop of a countryside in full bloom, where meadows are full of wildflowers, the woods are rustling with baby squirrels and the skies resound to the whistles of red kites.
HAIRY HORROR: a vapourer moth caterpillar PICTURE: Roy Middleton
Poppy fields are still pulsating with colour across the Chilterns, the fields of red heralding the arrival of summer across western Europe, as we highlighted last month.
STUDY IN SCARLET: a field of poppies at Pednor PICTURE: Leigh Richardson
But away from those startling reds, a short drive might replace the colour scheme with the rich blue of linseed, or flax – the stems of which yield one of the oldest fibre crops in the world, linen.
The flowers would have been familiar to the ancient Egyptians, and the trade played a pivotal role in the social and economic development of Belfast, for example.
BLUE CARPET: linseed flowers outside Chesham PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Or stray into north Hertfordshire and on the rolling slopes of Wilbury Hills, the family flower farm at Hitchin Lavender has become something of a local landmark over the past 20 years, providing a pick-your-own experience over 30 acres of lavender where visitors can also find sunflowers, take photographs and enjoy a family picnic.
Away from the woods and meadows, there’s the Thames and its tributaries to explore too, or a quiet stretch of canal towpath providing a welcome change of pace from the hustle and bustle of busy high streets.
GO WITH THE FLOW: the Thames at Bourne End PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Mind you, you may not need to go far to come face to face with an exotic visitor: nature has the habit of springing surprises on us in the most unlikely places…even when you think you’ve managed to find a safe, quiet corner to park the car.
ROOF WITH A VIEW: a heron at Wycombe Rye lido PICTURE: Andrew Knight
Ah, glorious summer, with the whole world “unlocked and seething”, as Laurie Lee put it. Or, to quote another famous author, this time Evelyn Waugh in Brideshead Revisited: “If it could only be like this always – always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe…”
As always, we’d like to give a very big thank you to all the keen local photographers who have allowed us to use their work this month. If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to our calendar entries, contact editor@thebeyonder.co.uk on email or via our Facebook group page.
POPPIES. If there’s one iconic image of what the Chilterns landscape should look like in June, it’s that vibrant splash of colour we see when the corn poppies come into bloom.
STUDY IN SCARLET: a deer among the poppies PICTURE: Carlene O’Rourke
Of course, those scarlet fields herald the coming of summer across western Europe and have long been associated with the terrible sacrifices made by the millions who fought in past wars.
SPLASH OF COLOUR: a poppy among linseed flowers PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
The poppies – papaver rhoeas – spring up naturally in conditions where soil has been disturbed, and just as the destruction brought by the Napoleonic wars of the early 19th century transformed bare land into fields of blood-red poppies growing around the bodies of the fallen soldiers, the fields of Northern France and Flanders were ripped open again in late 1914.
SUMMER BLOOMS: poppies at Pednor PICTURE: Gel Murphy
During the war they bloomed between the trench lines on the Western Front and after the war ended, they were one of the few plants to flourish on the barren battlefields of the Somme where so many men had died in one of the bloodiest battles in human history.
POETIC INSPIRATION: John McCrae’s In Flanders Fields PICTURE: Leigh Richardson
And the sight of those poppies inspired Canadian surgeon John McCrae to write In Flanders Fields, a poem which would come to cement the poppy as a potent symbol of remembrance:
We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.
The poppy quickly became a lasting memorial to those who died in World War One and later conflicts. It was adopted by The Royal British Legion as the symbol for their Poppy Appeal, in aid of those serving in the British Armed Forces.
POPPY APPEAL: an insect visitor PICTURE: Gel Murphy
This distinctive red flower is not the only June highlight in the great outdoors, though.
Ferns and foxgloves provide the focus of woodland forays in June, with splashes of purple among those glorious greens dancing in the dappled sunlight.
WOODLAND FORAY: foxgloves amid the ferns PICTURE: Andrew Knight
It’s also the month of brambles and bee orchids, dog and field roses, of paths cutting through fields bursting with ripening crops of wheat and barley.
RIPENING CROPS: fields of barley PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
And the striking blue of a field of flax in full flower is a remarkable sight too, the stem of the linseed yielding one of the oldest fibre crops in the world: linen.
Hans Christian Andersen wrote in his fairy tale The Flax: “The flax was in full bloom; it had pretty little blue flowers as delicate as the wings of a moth, or even more so.”
ANCIENT CROP: linseed flowers near Chesham PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Like wheat and barley, the crop is believed to have originated in the fertile valleys of west Asia, including Jordan, Syria and Iraq, and was certainly being made in ancient Egypt, with drawings on tombs and temples on the River Nile showing flax plants flowering.
Linseed oil is also traditionally used in putty, paints and for oiling wood, especially cricket bats, and the flower even features in the emblem of the United Kingdom’s Supreme Court in Parliament Square, representing Northern Ireland, in recognition of the fact that Belfast was the linen capital of the world by the end of the 19th century.
PUTTING ON A SHOW: daisies at Amersham PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
And yet one of the strangest features of flax is the fact the flowers open only in full sunlight and usually close shortly after noon, the petals normally dropping off the same day if there is the slightest breeze.
PURPLE PYRAMIDS: orchids at Great Missenden PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
It’s not just the floral displays grabbing our attention in June, though, as Laurie Lee recalled in Cider With Rosie.
We may live at a faster pace today, but we can still relate to many of his images of rural life from almost a century ago, even if the wildlife is less plentiful and chance of hearing a cuckoo much more remote.
“Summer, June summer, with the green back on earth and the whole world unlocked and seething,” he wrote, “with cuckoos and pigeons hollowing the woods since daylight and the chipping of the tits in the pear-blossom.”
FEATHERED FRIEND: a long-tailed tit PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
From baby birds leaving their nests for the first time to millions of tiny baby frogs and toads emerging from lakes, ponds and ditches, this is the month when the countryside really springs to life, from baby bunnies lolloping around the fields in the warmer evenings, fox and badger cubs play-fighting in the woods and some dramatic-looking moths on the wing, like the large pink elephant hawk moth.
TINY TERROR: a bunny at Little Marlow PICTURE: Carlene O’Rourke
Colourful damselflies are flitting over the ponds and baby bats the size of 50p pieces can be spotted in the warm evening air over the river. Early risers can watch the mist rise over the water at Spade Oak, or down by the Thames.
DAWN CALL: an early morning study at Spade Oak PICTURE: Nick Bell
After the bluebells of April and the hawthorn blossom, horse chestnuts and rhododendrons of May, the wildflowers are in full bloom, the wildfowl are out on the lakes and the summer visitors are flooding back to local country parks again.
There may not be the same plethora of natural life Laurie Lee wrote about, but at times you may still have that peculiar sensation of which Melisssa Harrison writes: “…of the past coexisting with the present, the England that existed for so long and exists no longer haunting the modern landscape, almost close enough to touch”.
SWAN SONG: on the water at Spade Oak quarry PICTURE: Nick Bell
As always, we’d like to give a very big thank you to all the keen local photographers who have allowed us to use their work. If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to our next calendar entry, contact editor@thebeyonder.co.uk on email or via our Facebook group page.
A MAJOR project designed to help restore and protect the Chilterns’ precious chalk streams has received a £350,000 grant from The National Lottery Heritage Fund.
Not Bourne Yesterday: Chalk Stream Communities of the Chilterns aims to rejuvenate the fragile chalk streams and promote a deeper connection with communities through art, archaeology, citizen science, and habitat restoration.
ENDANGERED: the River Chess at Latimer PICTURE: Allen Beechey
Not Bourne Yesterday comrpises a dozen interweaving initiatives that aim to conserve the environmental and cultural heritage associated with these rare rivers.
Working with partner organisations and local communities, the Chilterns National Landscape hopes to share the 8,000-year story of the Chilterns’ chalk streams, highlighting their connection to the everyday lives of people – past, present and future.
Dr Wendy Morrison, heritage and archaeology manager at the Chilterns National Landscape, said:“We are very excited by the opportunity to develop Not Bourne Yesterday into a suite of projects that will ultimately tell the story of these rivers over thousands of years in the past and connect them with the communities living around them today.”
Allen Beechey, project manager of the Chilterns Chalk Streams Project explained: “Through involving local communities in the development and delivery of the project, we hope to embed both a greater understanding of the importance of these rivers and a knowledge of how they can be conserved in future.”
The grant will support development of the project and pave the way for a full National Lottery grant of £2.8 million to enable the project to be delivered.
The chalk streams are among the most endangered habitats in England, facing severe threats from pollution, low water levels, habitat loss, and the impacts of climate change.
Despite the efforts of many organisations, their condition continues to worsen, nearing a critical tipping point.
The project aims to deliver more natural streams that are reconnected the landscape around them and host an apprenticeship scheme to train the next generation of chalk stream conservationists to ensure their long-term protection.
It will also improve accessibility to the streams and encourage broad participation and enjoyment of nature, as well as provide activities that will support mental health.
Not Bourne Yesterday will run a series of events in local communities, designed to bring the natural and cultural heritage of chalk streams to life.
IT’S a month of birdsong and abundant greenery, of foraging badgers and bats at dusk.
Or as the Welsh poet and tramp W H Davies put it:
Yes, I will spend the livelong day With Nature in this month of May; And sit beneath the trees, and share My bread with birds whose homes are there
HANGING CURTAIN: in full bloom PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
It’s that time when wildflowers burst into bloom, when the swifts arrive on our shores and the scent of blossom fills the air.
The morning symphony starts with the thrushes and robins and swells as others join the chorus, eager to convince a mate of their potential to provide a well-stocked larder.
CAUGHT ON CAMERA: a common whitethroat PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
With migratory songsters like whitethroats and nightingales having arrived back on these shores to join the fray, this is the month when the dawn chorus reaches its annual crescendo.
The millions of migrant birds have been pouring back in from Africa to their summer homes since mid-April, and by early May, against a backdrop of gorgeous green leaves and blossoming flowers, the trills, whistles and chirrups grow in volume to reach their peak as morning breaks.
FEEDING TIME: a hungry young starling asks for more PICTURE: Nick Bell
May 2024 was the warmest since records began in 1884, but for many the month felt like an endless deluge of rain, contributing to the wettest spring since 1986.
SUNSET SONG: startling skies over Chesham PICTURE: Leigh Richardson
But if warm and wetness collided to leave much of the nation drenched, gardeners, growers and farmers were glad to see the rain and those brave enough to venture out managed to capture some dramatic skies and glorious sunsets.
INTO THE BLUE: the colour palette changes PICTURE: Leigh Richardson
Photographers up and about early and late were still able to capture spectacular backdrops and elusive wildlife.
The explosion of spring colour that brought the Chilterns woodlands alive in April continuing to carpet woodland floors with swathes of bluebells, while hedgerows and woods from Hedsor to Penn were awash with purple rhododendron flowers.
CARPET OF COLOUR: bluebells at Coombe Hill PICTURE: Gel Murphy
From the white surf of hawthorn blossom to the pinks, whites and reds of the horse chestnut trees, the explosion of life in the meadows and woods is encouraging an array of insects are making the most of the array of food on offer.
GRUB’S UP: a treecreeper on chick-feeding duties PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
From fox cubs and goslings to woodpeckers and treecreepers, fresh life is emerging all around us, that wonderful timeless display that gave Milton such joy all those centuries ago:
Hail bounteous May that dost inspire Mirth and youth, and warm desire, Woods and Groves, are of thy dressing, Hill and Dale, doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early Song, And welcom thee, and wish thee long.
HAPPY FAMILIES: greylag goslings on the march PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Wildlife photographers sometimes cover impressive distances in their search for an unusual subject: the chance sighting of an adder or water vole, perhaps, or an opportunity to capture the exotic colours of a green orb weaver spider or fast-moving damselfly.
RIVER DANCE: a female azure damselfly PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Much of our wildlife can be quite elusive, making it hard to spot during a normal daytime walk in the woods but as always, our contributors have often managed to find the ideal spot to capture that perfect shot of an elusive butterfly, rare flower or striking sunset.
Their pictures capture some of the brighter moments amid the May monsoon and capture the glorious beauty of the Chilterns countryside through the changing months.
PERFECT TIMING: another Chesham sunset PICTURE: Leigh Richardson
As always, we’d like to give a very big thank you to all the keen local photographers who have allowed us to use their work. If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to our calendar entries, contact editor@thebeyonder.co.uk on email or via our Facebook group page.
APRIL is the month of rebirth and renewal, a reminder of exciting things to come after the long winter, when the days are lengthening and the proverbial showers are helping nature to burst into life.
And as the bluebells bring that welcome splash of colour to the ancient Chilterns woods, there are reminders everywhere that this is the giddy month of soft suns and chilly breezes that tells us summer’s on the way.
SPLASH OF COLOUR: bluebells in a Chilterns wood PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
“Oh to be in England now that April’s there,” wrote Robert Browning, the poet perhaps capturing the very essence of homesickness with his vision of some English visitor to an exotic foreign country longing for the springtime beauty of their native England.
SITTING PRETTY: a fox on the lookout PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
It’s the month when fox cubs are venturing into the sunshine for the first time, leaving the confines of their somewhat smelly earth to frolic and brawl in the sunlight while the mother vixen takes advantage of their increasing independence to forage for food.
Other animals are on the lookout for food too, and there’s a positive frenzy of activity among those colourful hedgerows.
TINY TITBITS: a mouse forages for food PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Bluebells may still may be the ultimate symbol of the Chilterns countryside, but other colours are also fighting for our attention: the swathes of cherry and apple blossom, the cowslips dotting local fields or wild garlic springing up by a country roadside.
GLOSSY SHEEN: a starling among the blossom PICTURE: Anne Rixon
Oil seed rape is beginning to flower, the creamy coloured leaves of the blackthorn have been joined by hawthorn blossom, and between nest-building and feeding new families, our garden birds are frantically busy with their household chores.
HOME COMFORTS: a jay looks for nesting materials PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
There are all those young mouths to feed, tasty morsels to discover and take back home to deliver.
MOUTHS TO FEED: a robin picks up a tasty snack PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
It’s not just the birds who are on the lookout for food either: our resident mammals can also sometimes be spotted out and about on breakfast duty.
Living close to water we’re lucky enough to be treated to an array of delightful wildfowl too, all very individual characters.
DRESSED TO IMPRESS: a mandarin duck PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
But the circle of life can be cruel at this time of year. One day a proud mother duck appears at the door with 15 delightful fluffy chicks waddling in her wake.
FLUFFY BROOD: greylag goslings PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
But then we have to watch and wait as the family gradually gets whittled down in size by hungry herons and other local predators.
FISHING EXPEDITION: a pair of egrets PICTURE: Nick Bell
Soon there and nine…and then six…and then five. A week or two later and there are still a trio healthy looking ducklings snapping at insects on the pond, though their small size still makes them look a little too much like tasty snacks for mum to relax entirely.
TASTY SNACKS: a hungry heron PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Close by, a cheeky starling has set up home in a neighbour’s eaves and has become a colourful and precocious addition to the characters round the feeders.
CHEEKY CHARACTER: an inquisitive starling PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Prone to strut about in his smart distinctive plumage like a Cockney costermonger donning their Pearly King outfit for the first time, he is disproportionately cocky for his size, elbowing the bulkier ducks and pigeons aside as if it is they who are intruding on his patch.
THRIVING: the speckled wood butterfly PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
April sees the emergence of a whole array of insects, reptiles and butterflies, like the striking orange tip butterflies which have spent the winter months as a chrysalis hidden among last year’s vegetation, or the speckled wood, which seem to have been thriving in both numbers and distribution over the past 40 years as a result of climate change.
DISTINCTIVE WINGS: the orange-tip butterfly PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Now they’re on the wing, feeding on spring flower nectar and looking for a mate, another welcome splash of colour in a landscape that has fully awoken from the drab, dreary days of winter.
FLORAL DISPLAY: the landscape wakes up after winter PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
If the colours provide splashes of detail worthy of close inspection on those backroad rambles and woodland wanders, they also provide a striking backdrop of hues for distant vistas too, the green shoots and bursting buds a welcome reminder that spring has once again returned with a vengeance.
SPRING IN THE AIR: the view near Coleshill PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
There may still be a chill in the morning air, but the morning dog walk is no longer a battle against the elements, and now there’s something new and exciting to discover at every turn in the path.
INTO THE WOODS: an early morning walk PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
For the earliest risers there are sneaky glimpses of the natural world preparing to meet the day…deer browsing in the woods or a fox returning proudly back to its den with its prey.
STRANGER DANGER: a muntjac senses an intruder PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
In April 2020 Melissa Harrison wrote movingly of the bittersweet emotions associated with witnessing spring at the height of lockdown, a theme echoed in her podcast of the same name.
COLOUR CONTRASTS: a peacock butterfly PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
“For some, spring is making confinement feel worse,” she wrote. “But I find it immensely comforting to sense the seasons’ ancient rhythms, altered but as yet uininterrupted, pulsing slow beneath our human lives.
SWEET MELODY: a linnets looking for seeds PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
“Onwards spring romps, as miraculous and dizzying as ever, whether humans are there to witness it or not.”
SNAPPY DRESSER: the colourful goldfinch PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
For some, the pandemic helped to focus our minds on the beauty of the natural world on the doorstep that we so often take for granted.
LOCKDOWN LIMITS: the pandemic cast long shadows PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Now that we can once again savour the freedom to travel further afield in search of the natural wonders around us, April is a time to appreciate the true wonder of that annual “miraculous” reawakening.
SPRING AWAKENING: the green-veined white butterfly PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
“There is a silent eloquence/In every wild bluebell,” wrote a 20-year-old Anne Bronte all those years ago – and from Ashridge to Cliveden, Hodgemoor woods to Watlington Hill, those vivid symbols of nature’s beauty that were so very precious in April 2020 remain as eloquent as ever, carpeting woodland floors across the Chilterns.
As always, we’d like to give a very big thank you to all the keen local photographers who have allowed us to use their work this month. If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to future calendar entries, contact editor@thebeyonder.co.uk on email or via our Facebook group page.
YOU wouldn’t think there’d be much chance of finding a deserted country lane a stone’s-throw away from Beaconsfield motorway services.
DESERTED: escape from the roar of traffic
After all, many rural main roads are litter-strewn rat-runs where nature seems under siege.
And if you do find a relatively straight stretch of tarmac round here, chances are that boy racers are deafening the local wildlife with their roaring engines and illegal pop-bang exhausts.
DAPPLED LIGHT: byways offer a peaceful backdrop
Well, whisper it quietly but in fact there are a wealth of smaller byways round these parts which hark back to a more peaceful era before the motor car ruled supreme.
More anti-social drivers tend to be deterred by the potholes, occasional floods, paint-scratching hedgerows and likelihood of encountering country hazards like tractors and horses to venture down these roads. And that suits the locals just fine.
The main tourist attractions round these parts include Cliveden and Odds Farm Park, but just yards from those hotspots you don’t have to venture far into the undergrowth to discover a network of footpaths offering a genuine breath of fresh air.
SERENE SURROUNDINGS: behind Odds Farm Park
Drivers haring along Wooburn Common Road probably don’t have a clue that there’s a serene park home estate right next to Odds Farm Park comprising 50 privately owned residential homes on the edge of glorious countryside.
It’s a tranquil place for the over-50s with meticulously cared-for gardens, and the footpath through the estate leads out towards surrounding farmland in the direction of Green Common Lane.
QUIET RAMBLE: Green Common Lane
This must win prizes for being one of the quietest roads in Buckinghamshire, making it possible to incorporate it into your ramble between footpaths without dicing with death.
If you’re lucky you may not see a vehicle at all before diving off the tarmac again at Hicknaham Farm.
The mixed farm is known as a wedding and duck shooting venue, and is a glorious location at harvest time.
Paths lead on towards Littleworth Common or you can circle back to Odds Farm or explore the other end of Green Common Lane.
HARVEST TIME: ripening crops
As you emerge onto the lane again and round the corner, excited shrieks from younger visitors at the adjoining farm park accompany you on the easy amble back towards Castlemans Farm Shop.
There, the cries of children are supplemented by a cacophony of ducks, geese, goats and other assorted animals adding to the bleats and braying from Odds Farm opposite.
Bird watchers and other more adventurous souls can add an extra loop to their ramble here by heading towards Springfield Farm Quarry, a 250-acre sand-and-gravel extraction operation which also acts as a landfill site.
High hedgerows shield the quarry from view and act as home to a wide variety of wildlife. Banks of nettles and brambles guard the shadows from unwelcome intruders, red kites circle overhead, butterflies flutter around and the occasional rabbit or fox darts across the path from the dense undergrowth.
EXTRA LOOP: beside Springfield Farm Quarry
Relatively few ramblers come this way, so although the views may be limited, the hedgerows are bustling with life, with plenty of intriguing scents to keep canine companions occupied too.
There are a couple of different opportunities to emerge onto Lillyfee Farm Lane, another contender for one of the area’s least-travelled roads despite the fast-moving traffic whizzing past at either end of it from Holtspur round to Burnham and Beaconsfield.
From here, you can cut across to Mill Wood, although some of the paths are hard to follow, and take the long straight path towards the pretty hamlet of Berghers Hill and Farm Wood before looping back round at Hedsor.
Local landmarks passing motorists may have missed round here include Hedsor Golf Course, which claims to be the most peaceful and beautiful pay-and-play golf course in Buckinghamshire.
PEACEFUL: Hedsor Golf Course
But you don’t have to be a golfer to appreciate the footpaths which flank the golf course.
On one side you can pick up the Beeches Way towards Littleworth Common and savour a glorious array of ferns and foxgloves, depending on the season.
In May, a circular detour on the other side of Sheepcote Lane exposes you to a glorious array of rhododendrons in full bloom, although at various times of the year the paths here can get pretty waterlogged.
Pick up the Beeches Way on the other side of Wooburn Common Road and you can head on to Littleworth, Burnham Beeches and beyond. The 16-mile long-distance path ultimately connects the Thames at Cookham with the Grand Union Canal at Denham, passing through various ancient woodlands along the way.
But those not wanting to wander too far can slip down a broad path on the other side of the golf course which also borders the home of the White Mark Bowmen, a field archery club.
Dire warnings remind ramblers of the dangers of straying off the path round these parts, since the 10-acre site is laid out in the form of a 14-target course for beginners and experienced archers alike: but the fencing is unambiguous and the marked route alongside straight and clear.
The good news is that from here, you’re close to where you started, just across the road from the Royal Standard, a cosy and convivial local adorned with colourful hanging baskets where a refreshing pint awaits.
It’s fair to say that most of these backroads are never going to be mobbed with ramblers, but they do provide a welcome chance to slip away from the busy main roads which criss-cross this part of the Chilterns.
There may be a motorway on one side and a quarry on another, but wandering these farms and footpaths on a summer’s evening, such noisy bustling places seem a world away.
In fact, around busy population centres like Beaconsfield, many rural roads simply aren’t safe for pedestrians any more, never mind wildlife.
UNSAFE: country lanes pose risks for pedestrians
Even away from the thunder of traffic on the M40, arterial routes from the fast-growing town are just too hectic to offer much peace of mind for pedestrians, cyclists or horse riders.
Head towards Slough or Amersham on the A355 or Gerrards Cross or Loudwater on the A40 and you’ll find that sections without footpaths are pretty much unusable.
QUIET SPOT: an unspoilt byway near Hedgerley
The carcasses of deer, badgers, foxes and the all-too-rare hedgehog bear testimony to just how difficult these litter-strewn rat-runs are for wildlife to navigate too.
And while nature flourishes only a stone’s-throw from these routes, the depressing state of our A roads signifies a major disconnect between those who relish and respect the countryside and those who just don’t “get” it.
PROTECTED PLACE: Burnham Beeches nature reserve
Author Paul Murray summed up one aspect of the divide with great humour and empathy in The Bee Sting:
The Tidy Towns Committee…was always shiteing on about the natural beauty of the area, but Elaine did not accept this. Nature in her eyes was almost as bad as sports. The way it kept growing? Did no one else get how creepy that was?
I’m not being negative, she said. I just want to live somewhere I can get good coffee and not have to see nature and everyone doesn’t look like they were made out of mashed potato.
CALL OF THE WILD: Black Park
We’re told teenagers are fearful of climate change and young people generally are much better informed about the environment than previous generations.
But word hasn’t spread to the young lads scattering their fast-food wrappings in our lay-bys or the speeding drivers flinging their empty cans and bottles into the hedgerows.
DUMPING GROUND: a ditch beside Stoke Common
Buckinghamshire Council’s #ForBucksSake campaign using dashcam footage to help convict litterers is a great step in the right direction, but the fast-food outlets have dragged their feet over printing registration numbers on their packaging, for example.
We’re blessed with beautiful countryside in the Chilterns but it’s blighted by the detritus of those passing through, oblivious to their surroundings, not to mention the fly-tippers and rogue waste carriers who see the countryside as a handy dumping-ground in their hunt for a quick profit.
THROWAWAY SOCIETY: rubbish left by the roadside
We can blame it on our throwaway society, on selfishness or entitlement, but we need to do more to combat the menace.
It starts in our schools, where we need to do more to allow children to get close to nature, and get their fingers dirty. Chris Packham laments how we have come to live in increasingly sterile environments where people’s growing “biophobia” is fuelling an intolerance and ignorance of the natural world.
EARLY START: engaging with nature
We cannot love what we don’t understand and we won’t fight to protect what we don’t cherish. Those who lose respect for the natural world are bound to struggle to engage with any resistance to enviromental destruction and species extinction.
Perhaps that’s the message we need to get across to those motorists speeding along our Chilterns highways, wiping out our wildlife and jettisoning their cans and cartons in our bushes as they go.
HOUSEHOLD DEBRIS: flytipping in Buckinghamshire
For those anxious to protect the natural environment, it’s hard not to feel a blind fury at those who seem intent on destroying it, or oblivious to the destruction they leave in their wake.
But step away from the main roads and it becomes clear that these mindless idiots are in a minority. On the litter-free footpaths and byways tramped by dog walkers and ramblers, we’re reminded that rescuing nature is not yet a lost cause, just a long drawn-out battle with a long way to go.
WHEN spring finally arrives at the Spade Oak Lake in Little Marlow, the old quarry suddenly comes into its own.
The same can be said for the nearby stretch of the Thames path, the perfect place for an evening stroll in the spring and summer months, watching the world go by on the river.
WATERING HOLE: the Spade Oak
Leisurely circular strolls around here start from the free car park in Coldmoorholme Lane, but there’s nothing like a ramble to whet your appetite, so where better to start and end your walk than at the Spade Oak country pub?
It’s an upmarket watering hole in a perfect location close to the River Thames between Bourne End and Marlow, with a relaxed ambience and extensive menu.
From here you can strike out across a field towards the former gravel pit which has become a welcoming haven for wildfowl since becoming a nature reserve more than 20 years ago.
SPRING IN THE AIR: the old quarry at Spade Oak
It was here during the 1960s that aggregate was extracted that would be used for the M40 and M4 motorways.
Much of the restoration work focused on encouraging birds to use the site as a breeding sanctuary, making it a popular destination for birdwatchers.
DEEP WATERS: the lake is a sanctuary for water fowl
Ducks, gulls and geese who provide a cacophony of background sound on a still evening as the bats come out to flit and flicker around in the gloaming on the permissive path which runs around much of the lakeside perimeter.
This is one of nine fishing venues operated by Marlow Angling Club and is said to host carp, tench, bream, pike, perch, roach, rudd and eels.
GONE FISHING: anglers fish around the lake
It was back in 1966 that the Folley Brothers began to dig the former farmland in Coldmoorholme Lane to extract the valuable flood plain gravel that was in great demand for the motorway building program.
But flash forward to the millennium and the local parish council began discussing plans for a permissive path around the lake, officially opened back in 2002.
MOTORWAY BUILDING: gravel was in great demand
Gravel is no longer dug from Spade Oak and today the area offers a very pleasant waterside ramble it is on a spring or summer’s evening, with the gulls and geese shrieking in dismay at some temporary disturbance and the gentle clank of a two-coach train lazily meandering its way from Bourne End to Marlow alongside the lake.
From one corner of the lake walkers can cross the line to take in a short stretch of the Thames which forms part of the 185-mile long-distance walking trail tracing the route of England’s best-known river as it meanders from its source in the Cotswolds into the heart of London.
LONG-DISTANCE WALK: the Thames Path
With feathered families out on the water in the spring, there’s plenty to hold the attention, ducks and geese out in force alongside the walkers, sailors and rowers.
Train buffs could opt for a trip on the single-track branch line to Bourne End or Marlow, but for those happy to just watch the train clattering by, a pint or a bite is close at hand at the Spade Oak after a lazy day by the river.
It’s not the cheapest pub meal around, but tempting menus and a relaxed dining area make it somewhere people tend to return to, with al fresco dining an option on warmer days.
THERE are times of the year when the Thames Path between Bourne End becomes a bit of a mudbath.
But when it dries out, it’s the perfect place for an evening stroll, watching the world go by on the river.
Winston Churchill once described the Thames to the Queen as the “silver thread which runs through the history of Britain”.
The year was 1954 and she recalled sailing up the “dirty commercial river” at the conclusion of her six-month Australasia Commonwealth tour to be greeted by her prime minister.
“He saw things in a very romantic and glittering way,” the monarch later recalled.
She was perhaps being a little too self-deprecating. Both she and Churchill were only too well aware of the extraordinary history of Britain’s most iconic river, its banks lined by cultural landmarks and historic towns.
Today, the Thames Path is a long-distance walking trail tracing the route of England’s best-known river for 185 miles as it meanders from its source in the Cotswolds through several rural counties into the heart of London.
But the short section between Bourne End and Marlow provides a welcome chance to savour the river away from the hustle and bustle of the city.
Easily accessed from a free car park in Coldmoorholme Lane, this is a picturesque part of the river that runs alongside the railway line to Marlow.
Flat and undemanding, it’s an appealing stroll for families and suitable for all ages, with the Marlow Mums singling it out as a great choice for little legs.
With feathered families out on the water in the spring, there’s plenty to hold the attention too, ducks and geese out in force alongside the walkers, sailors and rowers.
In the spring, the hawthorn blossoms are in full bloom, the goslings are learning to swim and, a couple of fields away, the baby bunnies are out playing too as dusk falls.
During the summer months, locals drowse on their verandas on the opposite bank as the shadows lengthen and pleasure craft chug to and fro.
Popular circular walking routes here include a detour to study the wildfowl on Spade Oak Quarry, or there’s always the option of letting the train take the strain if you fancy a jar or two in one of the welcoming hostelries along the way, or a restaurant meal in Marlow, Bourne End or Cookham.
The branch line to Marlow is a single-track seven-mile line via Bourne End to Maidenhead, and very picturesque it is too. Passenger services are operated by the Great Western Railway using two-coach diesel multiple unit trains, normally every half hour, but hourly after 9pm.
Back in steam days the train used to be known as The Marlow Donkey, normally taking the form of a one-coach train powered by a small pannier tank. Although the exact derivation of the term is unclear, a pub near the station in Marlow is named after it.
But if you’re happy to just watch the train clattering off towards Marlow or Bourne End, a pint or a bite is close at hand at the nearby Spade Oak, a popular upmarket country pub with a wide-ranging menu.
THAT little black bundle of mischief which bounced into our home eight months ago is almost one year old, and it’s hard to believe quite what an impact he’s had on our lives.
I’m not sure any of the puppy books spell out quite clearly enough to first-time dog owners exactly how big the change will be on every aspect of their daily routine.
Even after a couple of years of researching and planning, there’s nothing that can fully prepare you for the bombshell that’s about to explode in your household when that new puppy arrives.
BOMBSHELL: Teddy approaches his first birthday
And it’s not just a brief novelty, of course. This new arrival is going to be part of the family for 10-15 years or more…which perhaps helps to explain the tragic upsurge in the number of unwanted pets needing to be rehomed since the pandemic.
For a long time work and travel commitments made it impossible for us to even consider owning a dog.
That still allowed plenty of time to pore over The Complete Dog Breed Book, weighing up the potential merits of different breeds and narrowing down a top three, any of which might be perfect match.
CAREFUL RESEARCH: comparing different breeds
We looked at gun dogs and terriers, hounds and crossbreeds, weighing up their various merits in terms of factors like cost, how much grooming and exercise they need and how well they respond to training.
We learned about breeds developed for their different skills and talents, from shepherding to guarding, hunting and retrieving.
We also thought long and hard about our own limitations: what size of pet could we cope with and afford, what habits would drive us mad? How much slobbering, yapping or moulting could we handle?
WEIGHING UP OPTIONS: what can you cope with?
With hindsight, none of that early research was wasted, and it seems incredible that people will make such a momentous decision on a whim, sometimes with tragic consequences for both dog and human.
We’ve spoken to otherwise sane people who have driven to another part of the country in response to an online advertisement, family in tow, and “fallen in love with” an adorable puppy on the spot, with zero preparation or planning.
But at the other extreme, we’ve heard of experienced dog owners finding it impossible to rehome a rescue dog because they own a cat or fail to meet one of the other required criteria of stringent home checks.
SOUND ADVICE: talk to breeders and other owners
Talking to breeders and existing owners helps, even if the advice can be contradictory at times. Round our way, almost everyone owns a dog, it seems: and seeing them all trotting neatly to heel may make you wonder just how hard it can be…
But then we also know from Graeme Hall’s Dogs Behaving Badly series just how nightmarish it can be to live with a dog that’s out of control, or whose barking, biting, jumping or pulling is causing major problems or posing a danger to others.
One Kennel Club study revealed that 10% of puppy owners said they bought their puppy on an impulse and 40% said they bought it because of the way it looked. Only one in 10 said they had actually checked that it actually suited their lifestyle.
PERFECT MATCH: which breed suits your lifestyle?
As the work schedule becomes more flexible, it’s time to take a trip to Discover Dogs, we decide, the Kennel Club’s get-together where it’s possible to get face to face with dozens of different dogs and their owners and find out more about the realities of owning a particular breed.
Very helpful it is too in narrowing down our favourites and eliminating the many impractical or less appealing options. We see pointers and wolfhounds, terriers and retrievers… We know we’re not looking for a lapdog and we don’t want a hulking brute that will be too challenging to train or aggressive with children.
During the days and weeks that follow the show, the final choice becomes a lot easier. Much as we love the glorious colours of the Great Swiss Mountain Dog and the elegance of flat-haired retrievers, the black lab is winning out.
FINAL CHOICE: labradors remain consistently popular
It’s not surprising that labrador retrievers have consistently been one of the most popular breeds in the country for decades: affectionate and lovable, they are lively and sociable, in many ways the perfect family pet.
But they can also be greedy and boisterous, destructive if left alone and very powerful. They are strong, active dogs that need daily exercise and obedience training, and can suffer from some scary hereditary diseases.
Is it really a viable choice in a household where one partner is suffering from long Covid and struggling to cope with many daily tasks?
BOISTEROUS: labradors are full of energy
Fully health-tested pedigree pups are also expensive, and older part-trained dogs even more so.
A much older pet could be a calmer option, but it’s hard to be sure about health problems in advance, and insurers won’t help if there’s a pre-existing condition you discover after you’ve made the commitment.
Despite all the qualms, when Dog Day finally arrives, the choice is simple, as I explained back in December.
BUNDLE OF MISCHIEF: Teddy at four months
But while Teddy is old enough to sleep through the night, the impact on our lives is immediate. Regular short walks, in all weathers, for a start. At dawn and dusk in the depths of winter, it’s not always a delight. And the house seems to be permanently covered in mud for what seems like an eternity, as the wet weather drags on into the New Year.
We were prepared for the walks, of course. But in much the same way that new parents ask incredulously why no one warned them about the lack of sleep and constant 121 attention they were about to encounter, we’re looking at all those well behaved dogs in the park wondering how on earth everyone has managed to effortlessly train such docile obedient souls.
SMALL WONDER: growing up fast
The “cute puppy” period seems ridiculously short. Before we know it, Teddy’s twice the size and a truculent teenager. Still bouncy, curious and often adorable, but also stubborn, strong and keen to do things his way, with the accompanying boisterous bad habits we need to train him out of.
Of course like all proud dogparents we wouldn’t have it any other way. But as this hectic ball of energy approaches his first birthday, we’re not out of the woods yet when it comes to his training.
Give it time, it’s like a lightbulb being switched on, say some lab owners encouragingly. He’ll be calmer when he’s neutered, others advise sagely.
But we’re not trying to wish those precious months away. At the other end of the life cycle my sister and brother-in-law are mourning the loss of their faithful loving spaniel Megan after almost 16 years.
MUCH MISSED: Megan the spaniel
And an uncle writes from Scotland recalling another lost friend: “We sometimes still think she is here, stepping over her non-existent water bowl in the dark corner of the kitchen or imagining a dark shadow is her lying in your path. They have a hold on you long after they are gone.”
Well, whatever the future holds, Teddy’s here to stay. We have a long way to go and we’re learning all the time, but he’s part of the family now and we just hope he understands how firmly he’s managed to worm his way into our hearts.
IT’S MORE than half a century since the last train ran through Wooburn Green.
But in truth closing the line can’t have been one of the harder decisions of the Beeching era.
Although the Wycombe Railway linked High Wycombe to the Great Western main line at Maidenhead, it was only ever a single line taking a rather circuitous loop north through Bourne End, Wooburn Green and Loudwater.
CIRCUITOUS LOOP: the Wycombe Railway line
Standing on the old trackbed in the dappled sunshine of a glorious July afternoon, it’s easy to understand what a pleasant journey it might have been to meander your way from Maidenhead to Oxford by steam train along this route 150 years ago, but it was never going to be exactly fast.
SLOW GOING: the Wycombe line
Originally built to the same broad gauge as the GWR, it opened to passengers in 1854 and extended on through Princes Risborough and Thame to link up with the GWR line from Didcot to Oxford in 1864.
It was converted to standard gauge in 1870 three years after it was subsumed into the Great Western network and the little branch from Bourne End to Marlow opened in 1873.
But by the end of the 19th century new lines were already making life harder for some of the routes promoted during the railway mania of the 1840s, and when the Great Western and Great Central Joint Railway opened between High Wycombe and Northolt Junction in 1899, it gave the GWR a shorter route between High Wycombe and Paddington that robbed the Wycombe Railway of much of its traffic.
BROAD GAUGE: the line opened in 1854
Nonetheless passenger trains would still run over the route for another 70 years.
Freight services were withdrawn between Bourne End and High Wycombe on 18 July 1966, but British Railways did not close the line to passenger traffic until 4 May 1970.
Almost nothing remains of the original railway infrastructure today, although two sections of the track are open to ramblers and sharper-eyed observers can still spot other traces of the route.
Wooburn Green’s substantial brick-built station near the bottom of Whitepit Lane became a halt in 1968 because of the decreased service on the route and closed with the line in 1970.
It remained as a private dwelling until the late 1980s, being eventually demolished to make way for the Old Station Way development.
BOARDED UP: Loudwater station in 1973 PICTURE: Alan Young
Loudwater’s station at the bottom of Treadaway Hill also became a halt in 1968 and was demolished in the mid-1970s to make way for an industrial park, though a railway conservation path towards High Wycombe follows the route of the former railway.
DEMOLISHED: the old station at Loudwater
Back in Wooburn Green, dog walkers, joggers and cyclists make good use of the section of trackbed running towards Bourne End, some of it a parish council nature walk.
Visitors can park for free at Wooburn Park and slip across the footbridge over the Wye onto Town Lane, picking up the railway at the bottom of a footpath up the steep incline irreverently known locally as “Cardiac Hill”, which leads to Flackwell Heath.
STEEP INCLINE: the climb towards Flackwell Heath
From here, the trackbed is wide and offers a relaxed stroll behind industrial units and houses towards Bourne End.
On a drowsy July afternoon, the air is full of the soothing cooing of pigeons and the going is easy.
LEVEL WALK: the railway trackbed at Wooburn Park
Open fields rise on the other side of the line, providing a welcome vista over ripening crops before the path gets a little narrower and the woods a little more dense.
OPEN FIELDS: the view towards Flackwell
Those heading to Bourne End emerge from the nature path a short distance from the station, which is still in use, taking passengers on to Marlow or Maidenhead.
On a still evening, the distance clatter of a small local train clattering over the Thames at Bourne End can sound very reassuring, much as perhaps the hoot of a whistle sounded back in the 1950s when a steam train chugged up the valley towards High Wycombe.
SUMMER SUNSHINE: ripening crops
Those happy to have a level ramble can just turn round and head back to Wooburn Green, but for those with a bit more energy, a right turn before you get to Bourne End takes you up through the trees on a circular route back to your start point.
The climb isn’t quite as steep as Cardiac Hill, but the views out towards the Thames are far reaching.
RIVER OUTLOOK: the distant Thames
Up here, the surroundings can feel idyllic on a summer’s day, with a light breeze rustling the crops and plenty of life bustling in the hedgerows.
It’s easy to feel you have completely escaped from the rat race, with few other walkers to disturb your serenity: and as your circle round to head back to base camp, it’s a whole lot more relaxed going down Cardiac Hill than coming up!
WHAT makes a village the perfect destination for weekend ramblers?
A welcoming pub? A pretty main street? A range of undemanding, easy-to-follow circular walks?
WARM WELCOME: the White Horse
Hedgerley has got it all, it seems. And watching some visiting morris men thwacking their sticks and jingling their bells outside the White Horse on a summer’s evening, it’s not hard to see why the place is such a hit with weekend wanderers.
From the picturesque village pond and pretty cottage gardens with their hollyhocks and foxgloves to the glorious open meadows which fan out towards the M40, it’s not hard to see the appeal of a pint and a stroll around here on a sunny day.
SPLASH OF COLOUR: gardens in Hedgerley
Perhaps it also helps that ramblers can incorporate that pint into a circular route of varying lengths from Fulmer, Farnham Common or Stoke Poges, or detour here off the Beeches Way or from Burnham Beeches.
PLEASANT DETOUR: en route to Burnham Beeches
Among the most popular short circuits are routes through Kiln Wood or round the edge of Church Wood towards Hedgerley Green and back.
POPULAR CIRCUIT: Church Wood
Bird lovers might want to stay close to the village and take a lazy meander through Church Wood itself, an RSPB nature reserve backing onto the churchyard of the parish church of St Mary the Virgin, a Grade II listed building from the 1850s.
PEACEFUL OASIS: Church Wood
The 37-acre reserve is a peaceful place where volunteers manage the woodland to encourage insects and wildflowers to flourish, providing a perfect environment for the most common avian residents, including blackcaps, chiffchaffs, robins, thrushes and buzzards.
SOUND OF BIRDSONG: the RSPB reserve
There’s room enough here for visitors to enjoy a 2km circular route around the enclave, but those straying a little further afield can emerge from Church Wood onto a footpath through open fields leading towards the motorway, where the constant thrum of traffic cuts through the afternoon tranquillity.
OPEN FIELDS: heading towards the M40
The brutal gash carved through the countryside by the M40 provides a stark contrast to the serenity of the surrounding fields and the electric crackle from the pylons marching over the hill is another reminder of how life has changed here over the centuries.
Around these parts, agriculture has been the main source of livelihood since antiquity. During the iron age, early settlers at the nearby Bulstrode Camp fort would certainly have been farmers, while in medieval times the traditional method of open field farming was used in the area, with families allocated their own narrow strips of land.
RURAL SETTING: footpaths fan out from Hedgerley
Although the Hedgerley name is of Saxon origin, the area was occupied much earlier and kiln remains tell of a thriving Romano-British pottery industry, with a Roman road thought to have run through the parish to the south of the M40.
Local history records chronicle owners of the medieval manors that dominated life in the area, with significant local farms including those at Slade Farm, Court Farm, Metcalf Farm and Colley Hill Farm, the workers living in cottages in the village and much of the parish land used for pasture.
PASTURE LAND: farming dominated local life for centuries
Before the building of new houses in the 1930s, the population was small and those not working in the fields might have been in domestic service at Hedgerley Park or Bulstrode House, or involved in brick and tile making.
The earliest mention of Hedgerley tiles dates from 1344 and the famous fire-resistant ‘Hedgerley Loam’ was dug extensively in the 18th century and used to line furnaces in the UK and abroad.
POPULAR PATH: leaving St Mary’s churchyard
In Victorian times a third or so of parish land was devoted to arable crops, with potatoes, turnips and beans also grown for local consumption. Horse or oxen-drawn ploughs would have worked the land until the invention of the steam engine in the 19th century.
In 1881, the impressive 800-acre Hedgerley Park Estate was sold by auction in London to Mrs Ellen Emily Stevenson, the daughter of a wealthy tobacco broker and a young widow with three small children whose husband had died of a brain disease at the age of 30 after less than two years of marriage.
Her picturesque new abode comprised a 16-bedroom mansion and pleasure grounds with lodges, plantations and ornamental lakes with waterfalls, not to mention 10 servants and five productive farms.
VILLAGE LIFE: Hedgerley’s main street
She and her daughters played an active part in village life, with the children at Hedgerley School being regularly invited to picnics in the park grounds where the “tea, buns and bananas given by the Misses Stevenson” proved a great treat.
Ellen was to be a churchwarden at St Mary’s for more than 30 years and in 1893 she gave the use of Court Farm and about 30 acres to the Church of England Waifs and Strays Society for use as a farm home, teaching agriculture to up to 26 boys between the ages of 12 and 16.
RESTFUL SCENE: a cow grazing beside Court Farm
This Grade II listed Georgian house dates from 1771 and the farm home was formally opened by the Bishop of Reading in 1893, allowing young boys to spend two years learning milking, sheep sheering and how to plan and grow crops for sale at local markets.
The home closed in 1926 but is still a prominent village landmark, boasting a swimming pool, stables, tennis court and summer house, going on the market in 2020 with a £5m guide price.
Ellen’s daughter Ethel was a suffragist who helped to form the Gerrards Cross branch of the National Union of Women’s Suffrage Societies, and became its first president in 1912, going on to become the first president of the Hedgerley Women’s Institute when it was formed in 1921.
VILLAGE POND: in the heart of Hedgerley
That same year saw sister Maud serve as a jury member in a murder trial at Aylesbury Assizes that shocked the nation after “musical milkman” George Arthur Bailey poisoned his young pregnant wife in Little Marlow.
The trial culminated in the hanging of Bailey, who earned his nickname because he could be heard whistling while on his daily rounds. But it was also said to be the first time women had been allowed to sit on an English murder jury.
Although the 1918 Representation of the People Act famously ended the ban on women voting in general elections, women in their twenties were still excluded, and were also prohibited from taking part in public life by joining the professions or by serving as jurors.
Around this time the Stevensons moved out of Hedgerley Park and into a new house they had built, with the estate being put up for sale. It had croquet and tennis lawns and stabling for six horses, but no electric lighting.
The estate was finally sold in 1931 to Richmond Watson and a short while later the house was demolished, although some outbuildings remained until after the Second World War.
Ethel died in 1937, a month before her 92nd birthday, and is buried in St Mary’s Churchyard alongside Maud and Ethel. The grave of Richmond Watson is nearby: he died in 1944 at the age of 70.
LOCAL LEGENDS: graves at St Mary’s
Today, much of the surrounding countryside is part of the Portman Burtley estate, with visitors even getting the chance to get a taste of stylish country living by renting out Slade Farm, for example, which accommodates 15 people in seven luxury bedrooms.
Here, “art deco meets glamour country chic” with exposed beams and Venetian mirrored furnishings, just half an hour from central London with easy access from the M40.
Unfortunately, it’s hard to ignore the M40 around these parts, and Hedgerley also suffers from its proximity to Beaconsfield Services, with boy racers rocketing along Hedgerley Lane and less community-spirited motorists leaving an unpleasant flurry of litter in their wake.
Ramblers heading beyond the confines of Church Wood may find it difficult to ignore the roar of traffic as they approach the otherwise pretty hamlet of Hedgerley Green, with its picturesque ponds and inquisitive horses, before looping round to return to the village.
FOUR-LEGGED FRIENDS: horses at Hedgerley Green
Those prepared to venture a little further afield can strike off through an unprepossessing motorway underpass towards Bulstrode Park, the site of a house built by perhaps the area’s most notorious resident, Judge Jeffreys, in 1686.
The “hanging judge” gained his reputation during the “Bloody Assizes” of the previous year, when King James II was anxious to make an example of those who had taken part in the West Country rebellion led by the Duke of Monmouth which had been halted by the Battle of Sedgemoor in Somerset.
NOTORIOUS RESIDENT: the Bulstrode estate once owned by Judge Jeffreys
With Lord Chief Justice Jeffreys presiding, assisted by four other judges, hundreds of rebels were condemned to harsh and terrible deaths, or transportation to the colonies for long years of slavery.
Those doomed to public hangings were then disembowelled and quartered, their heads and quarters dipped in pitch and salt and sent to villages to be displayed on poles as a dire warning of the consquences of treason.
ROAMING WILD: a pony at Bulstrode
Jeffreys returned to London where he and his fellow judges were formally thanked by the King, but he did not get to enjoy his new property at Bulstrode long: after the king was deposed in the English Revolution of 1688, Jeffreys was incarcerated in the Tower of London, where he died of ill health the following year.
For those heading under the motorway and emerging onto Hedgerley Lane, two footpaths cross through Bulstrode Park, where Judge Jeffreys’ house was replaced in the 19th century by one erected by the Duke of Somerset.
The Bulstrode estate itself is bigger than it looks, with a series of lonely footpaths criss-crossing the woods behind the main house.
Bulstrode also provides easy access to Gerrards Cross, where ramblers arriving by rail can head off towards Hedgerley, using the White Horse pub as a handy halfway rest stop.
From the station, a quick amble across the Common towards the Bull Inn leads you down Main Drive to the bottom of Bulstrode Park, where a straight path leads across to Hedgerley Lane.
Thought to be the oldest recorded inn in Gerrards Cross, the Bull – or Oxford Arms as it was formerly known – was in an ideal position at a crossroads to capture the trade of passing travellers, with the turnpiking of the Oxford Road in 1719 giving business a major boost.
Back across the motorway, the roar of heavy traffic slowly subsides as you skirt Church Wood and head back towards the White Horse, where a welcoming pint beckons at a convivial village local known for its real ales, hanging baskets and old oak beams.
CONVIVIAL PINT: back at the White Horse
One of five historic buildings surveyed by the Buckinghamshire Archaeological Society, the original building probably dates from around 1679, with the first reference to a pub on the site coming in 1740.
Here, there’s a chance to reflect on the day’s ramblings: of woods alive with birdsong, of medieval manors and murderous milkmen, and a cemetery full of memories of a bygone age.
WHAT makes a village the perfect destination for weekend ramblers?
A welcoming pub? A pretty main street? A range of undemanding, easy-to-follow circular walks?
WARM WELCOME: the White Horse
Hedgerley has got it all, it seems. And watching some visiting morris men thwacking their sticks and jingling their bells outside the White Horse on a summer’s evening, it’s not hard to see why the place is such a hit with weekend wanderers.
From the picturesque village pond and pretty cottage gardens with their hollyhocks and foxgloves to the glorious open meadows which fan out towards the M40, it’s not hard to see the appeal of a pint and a stroll around here on a sunny day.
SPLASH OF COLOUR: gardens in Hedgerley
Perhaps it also helps that ramblers can incorporate that pint into a circular route of varying lengths from Fulmer, Farnham Common or Stoke Poges, or detour here off the Beeches Way or from Burnham Beeches.
PLEASANT DETOUR: en route to Burnham Beeches
Among the most popular short circuits are routes through Kiln Wood or round the edge of Church Wood towards Hedgerley Green and back.
POPULAR CIRCUIT: Church Wood
Bird lovers might want to stay close to the village and take a lazy meander through Church Wood itself, an RSPB nature reserve backing onto the churchyard of the parish church of St Mary the Virgin, a Grade II listed building from the 1850s.
PEACEFUL OASIS: Church Wood
The 37-acre reserve is a peaceful place where volunteers manage the woodland to encourage insects and wildflowers to flourish, providing a perfect environment for the most common avian residents, including blackcaps, chiffchaffs, robins, thrushes and buzzards.
SOUND OF BIRDSONG: the RSPB reserve
There’s room enough here for visitors to enjoy a 2km circular route around the enclave, but those straying a little further afield can emerge from Church Wood onto a footpath through open fields leading towards the motorway, where the constant thrum of traffic cuts through the afternoon tranquillity.
OPEN FIELDS: heading towards the M40
The brutal gash carved through the countryside by the M40 provides a stark contrast to the serenity of the surrounding fields and the electric crackle from the pylons marching over the hill is another reminder of how life has changed here over the centuries.
Around these parts, agriculture has been the main source of livelihood since antiquity. During the iron age, early settlers at the nearby Bulstrode Camp fort would certainly have been farmers, while in medieval times the traditional method of open field farming was used in the area, with families allocated their own narrow strips of land.
RURAL SETTING: footpaths fan out from Hedgerley
Although the Hedgerley name is of Saxon origin, the area was occupied much earlier and kiln remains tell of a thriving Romano-British pottery industry, with a Roman road thought to have run through the parish to the south of the M40.
Local history records chronicle owners of the medieval manors that dominated life in the area, with significant local farms including those at Slade Farm, Court Farm, Metcalf Farm and Colley Hill Farm, the workers living in cottages in the village and much of the parish land used for pasture.
PASTURE LAND: farming dominated local life for centuries
Before the building of new houses in the 1930s, the population was small and those not working in the fields might have been in domestic service at Hedgerley Park or Bulstrode House, or involved in brick and tile making.
The earliest mention of Hedgerley tiles dates from 1344 and the famous fire-resistant ‘Hedgerley Loam’ was dug extensively in the 18th century and used to line furnaces in the UK and abroad.
POPULAR PATH: leaving St Mary’s churchyard
In Victorian times a third or so of parish land was devoted to arable crops, with potatoes, turnips and beans also grown for local consumption. Horse or oxen-drawn ploughs would have worked the land until the invention of the steam engine in the 19th century.
In 1881, the impressive 800-acre Hedgerley Park Estate was sold by auction in London to Mrs Ellen Emily Stevenson, the daughter of a wealthy tobacco broker and a young widow with three small children whose husband had died of a brain disease at the age of 30 after less than two years of marriage.
Her picturesque new abode comprised a 16-bedroom mansion and pleasure grounds with lodges, plantations and ornamental lakes with waterfalls, not to mention 10 servants and five productive farms.
VILLAGE LIFE: Hedgerley’s main street
She and her daughters played an active part in village life, with the children at Hedgerley School being regularly invited to picnics in the park grounds where the “tea, buns and bananas given by the Misses Stevenson” proved a great treat.
Ellen was to be a churchwarden at St Mary’s for more than 30 years and in 1893 she gave the use of Court Farm and about 30 acres to the Church of England Waifs and Strays Society for use as a farm home, teaching agriculture to up to 26 boys between the ages of 12 and 16.
RESTFUL SCENE: a cow grazing beside Court Farm
This Grade II listed Georgian house dates from 1771 and the farm home was formally opened by the Bishop of Reading in 1893, allowing young boys to spend two years learning milking, sheep sheering and how to plan and grow crops for sale at local markets.
The home closed in 1926 but is still a prominent village landmark, boasting a swimming pool, stables, tennis court and summer house, going on the market in 2020 with a £5m guide price.
Ellen’s daughter Ethel was a suffragist who helped to form the Gerrards Cross branch of the National Union of Women’s Suffrage Societies, and became its first president in 1912, going on to become the first president of the Hedgerley Women’s Institute when it was formed in 1921.
VILLAGE POND: in the heart of Hedgerley
That same year saw sister Maud serve as a jury member in a murder trial at Aylesbury Assizes that shocked the nation after “musical milkman” George Arthur Bailey poisoned his young pregnant wife in Little Marlow.
The trial culminated in the hanging of Bailey, who earned his nickname because he could be heard whistling while on his daily rounds. But it was also said to be the first time women had been allowed to sit on an English murder jury.
Although the 1918 Representation of the People Act famously ended the ban on women voting in general elections, women in their twenties were still excluded, and were also prohibited from taking part in public life by joining the professions or by serving as jurors.
Around this time the Stevensons moved out of Hedgerley Park and into a new house they had built, with the estate being put up for sale. It had croquet and tennis lawns and stabling for six horses, but no electric lighting.
The estate was finally sold in 1931 to Richmond Watson and a short while later the house was demolished, although some outbuildings remained until after the Second World War.
Ethel died in 1937, a month before her 92nd birthday, and is buried in St Mary’s Churchyard alongside Maud and Ethel. The grave of Richmond Watson is nearby: he died in 1944 at the age of 70.
LOCAL LEGENDS: graves at St Mary’s
Today, much of the surrounding countryside is part of the Portman Burtley estate, with visitors even getting the chance to get a taste of stylish country living by renting out Slade Farm, for example, which accommodates 15 people in seven luxury bedrooms.
Here, “art deco meets glamour country chic” with exposed beams and Venetian mirrored furnishings, just half an hour from central London with easy access from the M40.
Unfortunately, it’s hard to ignore the M40 around these parts, and Hedgerley also suffers from its proximity to Beaconsfield Services, with boy racers rocketing along Hedgerley Lane and less community-spirited motorists leaving an unpleasant flurry of litter in their wake.
Ramblers heading beyond the confines of Church Wood may find it difficult to ignore the roar of traffic as they approach the otherwise pretty hamlet of Hedgerley Green, with its picturesque ponds and inquisitive horses, before looping round to return to the village.
FOUR-LEGGED FRIENDS: horses at Hedgerley Green
Those prepared to venture a little further afield can strike off through an unprepossessing motorway underpass towards Bulstrode Park, the site of a house built by perhaps the area’s most notorious resident, Judge Jeffreys, in 1686.
The “hanging judge” gained his reputation during the “Bloody Assizes” of the previous year, when King James II was anxious to make an example of those who had taken part in the West Country rebellion led by the Duke of Monmouth which had been halted by the Battle of Sedgemoor in Somerset.
NOTORIOUS RESIDENT: the Bulstrode estate once owned by Judge Jeffreys
With Lord Chief Justice Jeffreys presiding, assisted by four other judges, hundreds of rebels were condemned to harsh and terrible deaths, or transportation to the colonies for long years of slavery.
Those doomed to public hangings were then disembowelled and quartered, their heads and quarters dipped in pitch and salt and sent to villages to be displayed on poles as a dire warning of the consquences of treason.
ROAMING WILD: a pony at Bulstrode
Jeffreys returned to London where he and his fellow judges were formally thanked by the King, but he did not get to enjoy his new property at Bulstrode long: after the king was deposed in the English Revolution of 1688, Jeffreys was incarcerated in the Tower of London, where he died of ill health the following year.
For those heading under the motorway and emerging onto Hedgerley Lane, two footpaths cross through Bulstrode Park, where Judge Jeffreys’ house was replaced in the 19th century by one erected by the Duke of Somerset.
The Bulstrode estate itself is bigger than it looks, with a series of lonely footpaths criss-crossing the woods behind the main house.
Bulstrode also provides easy access to Gerrards Cross, where ramblers arriving by rail can head off towards Hedgerley, using the White Horse pub as a handy halfway rest stop.
From the station, a quick amble across the Common towards the Bull Inn leads you down Main Drive to the bottom of Bulstrode Park, where a straight path leads across to Hedgerley Lane.
Thought to be the oldest recorded inn in Gerrards Cross, the Bull – or Oxford Arms as it was formerly known – was in an ideal position at a crossroads to capture the trade of passing travellers, with the turnpiking of the Oxford Road in 1719 giving business a major boost.
Back across the motorway, the roar of heavy traffic slowly subsides as you skirt Church Wood and head back towards the White Horse, where a welcoming pint beckons at a convivial village local known for its real ales, hanging baskets and old oak beams.
CONVIVIAL PINT: back at the White Horse
One of five historic buildings surveyed by the Buckinghamshire Archaeological Society, the original building probably dates from around 1679, with the first reference to a pub on the site coming in 1740.
Here, there’s a chance to reflect on the day’s ramblings: of woods alive with birdsong, of medieval manors and murderous milkmen, and a cemetery full of memories of a bygone age.
THERE must be few footpaths quite as uninviting as the one on Stoke Common Lane circling round past the remains of Pickeridge Farm.
Flanked by derelict buildings on one side and a closed landfill site on the other, this is not quite your typical concept of what a country ramble in Buckinghamshire should look like.
Ironically, on the other side of the road lies the gate leading to Stoke Common itself, a glorious slice of ancient heathland that’s one of the rarest habitats in Britain these days.
Home to an array of rare plants, animals and insects, it’s an important Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI), dotted with gorse and heather, echoing to the sound of stonechats and occasionally offering a brief glimpse of an elusive adder orslow worm.
Sadly, the litter-strewn ditches of Stoke Common Lane bear testimony to the fact that this 200-acre fragment of heathland is a small island of natural beauty protected from the ravages of the outside world by City of London rangers and local volunteers.
The fly-tipped frontage of the building across the road is a bleak reminder of the real world, one of those places trashed by time, neglect and teenager trespassers.
Yet we know that there can be a strange beauty about abandoned places which have been reclaimed by nature, and perhaps Pickeridge Farm has that potential.
A 19th-century gravel pit, Pickeridge Quarry was a landfill site operated by Suez (formerly SITA), when the farm buildings were used as the main office complex.
Flash forward 20-odd years and the crumbling farm buildings have suffered their fair share of vandalism, graffiti and fire damage, but nature is slowly winning the war to hide the ravaged remains of those old buildings.
The footpath skirting the high fence of the landfill site heads round towards Hedgerley and Fulmer, both routes that border the M40, so the thunder of fast-moving traffic is never far away.
But if there’s not too much in the way of eye-catching scenery to hold the attention, there is perhaps a forlorn beauty about the glimpses of the former farm peeking through the undergrowth, even if some ramblers have found the route a little too creepy for comfort.
Urban explorers seem to have found the surroundings a little more fascinating, with some links explaining more of the site’s history.
Whatever the future holds for the landfill site and surrounding countryside, for the moment it’s a rather bleak and forbidding route on a grey day or at dusk, the perfect setting for a Midsomer murder (and yes, the show has filmed here in the past).
But with the sun out and the hedgerows in full bloom, there’s a more optmistic feel to this forgotten corner of Fulmer.
One day, the whole area may be redeveloped or take on a whole new existence, like so many former quarries and gravel pits around the country.
For the moment, nature is waiting in the wings to reclaim a farmhouse lost to the elements, a broken window or collapsed roof providing that first small opening for plant life to take root.
When humans move out, nature moves in, engulfing the bricks and broken glass, breathing new life into buildings ravaged by the years and the elements – and perhaps the promise of a new existence in the years to come.
IT SOUNDS as if it ought to be the subject of a pub quiz, or an obscure riddle from The Lord of the Rings.
Where, deep in the heart of an ancient Buckinghamshire wood, can you find names linking the land of the ancient pharaohs and pyramids with a biblical river that flows for more than 4,000 miles through the heart of Africa?
GREEN OASIS: Egypt Wood
The answer, of course, is not so hard for those familiar with Burnham Beeches and the surrounding area, because the tiny hamlet of Egypt lies north of Farnham Common and the roadsign has doubtless led to many a conversation between passing motorists about the origins of the name.
Nearby runs the Nile, a somewhat modest watercourse when compared to its mighty African namesake, which runs from Lake Victoria to the Mediterranean Sea.
SUNLIGHT AND SHADE: exploring the woods
By contrast, the Buckinghamshire Nile is just one of a number of small streams that trickle around the national nature reserve at Burnham Beeches,
Egypt Lane links the reserve with the small hamlet of just a few cottages clustered on the edge of woodland, a settlement with cottages dating from the 17th century.
RICH HISTORY: on the Portman Burtley estate
Egypt Wood borders the nature reserve and is the most ecologically important area of woodland on the Portman Burtley estate, a 2,000-acre slice of land with an organic beef farm at its heart, along with a large forestry business and a number of residential and commercial properties to let.
This is a mixture of ancient woodland and former common land with numerous ancient trees and very high biodiversity interest, managed under a joint agreement with Natural England and in regular consultation with the managers of Burnham Beeches.
ANCIENT FEEL: Burnham Beeches
By arrangement with the Forestry Commission, the estate allows access on permissive paths that criss-cross the wood and link to roads and public footpaths north of Burnham Beeches, joining the Beeches Way to Littleworth Common or looping round on Portman land down to Pennlands Farm and on to Hedgerley.
ROAD LESS TRAVELLED: heading to Hedgerley
The woods may have an ancient feel, but any connection with the North African country is somewhat misguided, thanks to a popular 16th-century misunderstanding.
Romany Gypsies have been in Britain since at least 1515 and the term ‘gypsy’ comes from ‘Egyptian’, which is what the settled population perceived them to be, perhaps because of their dark complexion or believing them to have come from ‘little Egypt’, the name given to a part of the Peloponnese peninsula in what is now Greece.
DESERTED PATH: heading to Abbey Park Farm
In reality, linguistic analysis of the Romani language proves that Romany Gypsies, like the European Roma, originally came from Northern India, but that didn’t stop parliament passing the Egyptians Act of 1530, specifically designed to expel the “outlandish people calling themselves Egyptians”, principally meaning Roma.
On pain of imprisonment, the Roma were given 16 days’ notice to depart the realm, the Act accusing them of using “crafty and subtle devices” to deceive people, notably by claiming to tell people’s fortunes while also allegedly committing felonies such as robbery.
WHAT’S IN A NAME?: gypsies may once have lived in Egypt Wood
Two further Egyptians Acts followed in 1554 and 1562, complaining that “Egyptians” were plying their “devilish and naughty practices and devices” and urging them to abandon their nomadic lifestyle.
Certainly local folklore and the Buckinghamshire Archives lend credence to the belief that the name of Egypt originates from gypsies who once lived in the woods some 500 years ago.
Today, these paths are often gloriously deserted, despite their proximity to Burnham Beeches and popular circular walks from Hedgerley.
RAMBLERS’ REST: the White Horse at Hedgerley
But on a quiet May day among the ferns and foxgloves of Egypt Wood, you can be blissfully unaware of the nearby motorway or fast-moving traffic on the main road from Beaconsfield through Farnham Common.
Here, squirrels rustle among the dead leaves and wood ants scurry about their business with a frantic intensity that can make the casual observer feel a little itchy.
This is certainly no place for a picnic, but their presence is a clear indicator of healthy woodland. If numbers alone are any measure, woodland doesn’t come much healthier than this.
NOTHING in life is as simple and pure as a dog’s love, they say.
Whether we deserve such unconditional affection is another matter.
SETTLING IN: Teddy at ten months
And it may be hard to know what “love” actually means to man’s best friend. What does the cheery wag of a tail actually convey?
We think Teddy is looking a whole lot more relaxed these days after those initial weeks when he was just a puppy, freshly arrived in yet another new home, the fourth of his short life.
CHILLED OUT: exploring the neighbourhood
Six months on, he sleeps through the night, seems to relish the peaceful gloom of his crate and appears to find it easy to relax around the house, knowing there are quiet times of the day when he is not the centre of attention.
His bladder control has improved dramatically and he’ll no longer wake desperate for that early morning wee.
OUT AND ABOUT: sniffing out new scents
But when he does need to go, he knows how to ring a bell to go out and has learned to distinguish the need to answer a call of nature from a walk that’s purely for pleasure…
That big smile of his seems broader and appears more frequently. Reunions involve a lot of enthusiastic licks and tail wagging, of flopping over for a tummy rub. And he’s more likely to cheerfully try to sit on your lap while chewing a toy, despite the fact that at 35kg he’s a little too large and clumsy to be a lapdog.
BIG SMILE: relaxing in the long grass
Never as obsessively motivated by food as many of his ilk, it’s still predictably hard to discourage him from begging at meal times. And he’s never been one of those dogs who gets obsessively excited at the mere prospect of a walk, much as he appears to love such outings.
But certainly for us, the bond is growing as we get to find out more about his personality and gradually get to grips with the more boisterous and worrying aspects of his teenage behaviour.
LIGHTS IN THE SKY: the aurora borealis
The list of shared experiences is growing too – of night walks in the woods, of the chance to see the Northern Lights over Chalfont St Giles, explore another section of the Chiltern Way or savour a glorious sunset while he snuffles about in the undergrowth.
EVENING CLOUDS: dusk falls in Chalfont St Giles
Dawn and dusk are favourite times of the day for a chilled-out wander, and after the bluebells of April, May is the month when woodland paths are awash with ferns, foxgloves and rhododendrons, joyful purple splashes amid those rich, glorious greens.
PUTTING ON A SHOW: rhododendrons in full bloom
After all the grime and mud of earlier in the year, at last the sun is out and the woods are warm, echoing to the sound of birdsong and the buzzing of insects.
WOODLAND SHADOWS: sun shines through the trees
Leisurely rambles are punctuated by the whistle of a red kite, the bark of a muntjac or the high-pitched “kee-wick” of the female tawny owl as dusk falls.
GLORIOUS VIEWS: the countryside comes to life in June
As May turns to June the shorts are dusted off, the rambles become a little longer as the Chilterns countryside really comes to life.
Skirting those big old houses with their gorgeous gardens, footpaths lead off through ripening wheat fields to grassy meadows and dark woodland groves.
ON THE RIGHT PATH: heading to the woods
Horses munch languidly in the fields or wander over to take a curious look over the fence as we pass.
Foxes and rabbits scamper across adjoining fields, but Teddy still has problems spotting any of the local wildlife, so immersed is he in the intriguing scents he is following.
At this age, every walk is still a training walk, of course, so there’s less time to focus on the views or local flora when there are lessons to be learned.
FOREST SCHOOL: every walk can be a training lesson
Plus boisterous Ted is still too prone to suddenly bolt off in an excited bound at the sight of a pigeon for you to safely take your eye off his movements for too long. Get distracted at your peril…
Nonetheless, for all the hard work of trying to get a lively young labrador to walk to heel, these evening walks are helpful bonding sessions, I hope, and leave us all suitably tired at the end of the day.
When Ted flops down for an evening nap before heading to bed, it feels as if the training is playing dividends, and the contented bedtime snuffles and reassuring tail wags tell us that he really is beginning to feel like one of the family.
“HAVING a dog can really transform how you think about the place where you live,” writes Melissa Harrison in The Stubborn Light of Things.
FRESH PERSPECTIVE: on the Chiltern Way at Coleshill
I suppose that even back in those days when we were still only daydreaming about owning a dog, we were aware of the truth of that statement.
We would wander familiar paths across the Chilterns bumping into countless dog owners along the way, wondering quite what it might feel like to have one of our own to accompany us on our rambles.
But with no specific animal or even breed to actively visualise, such musings lacked shape and form.
FAMILIAR PATH: the Chiltern Way at Hodgemoor
When Teddy arrived, one of the most exciting prospects was being able to have a much more concrete idea of how it would feel to be able to embark on such adventures when he was old enough to take exploring.
Since then, it’s been a delight to see his response to different walks – once we know he can be trusted not to overreact to the people, pets and wildlife he might meet along the way.
LONG LINE: Egypt Woods
Our own little nature reserve and adjoining Wooburn Park was a great starting point, of course, popular with local dog owners and on the doorstep for those first outings.
ON THE DOORSTEP: cygnets in the nature reserve
It’s ideal for peaceful early morning and late-night wanders though, or in filthy weather when most people are indoors, but this is a place that’s full of exciting distractions at peak times – perfect for some long-line training as he gets older, perhaps, but not somewhere he can yet be trusted off the lead during the day.
FIRM FAVOURITE: Wooburn Park
Exploring further afield has been fun, even it won’t be genuinely relaxing until he is old enough to be fully trusted. But as the weather starts to improve, there are plenty of memorable new experiences to savour.
His first trip to the seaside, for example, takes us on a rain-soaked visit to Avon Beach at Christchurch before it closes to dogs in the summer months.
WET PAWS: on the beach at Christchurch
Nice to get those paws in the water, yes – but he’ll need to calm down a lot before he can be trusted to potter about on the beach without jumping all over a stranger.
FUN IN THE RAIN: Avon Beach
Likewise in all our favourite spots, from the quietest corners of Hodgemoor, Penn and Burnham Beeches to the network of footpaths that criss-cross our corner of the Chilterns.
LOCAL HAUNT: wet weather in Hodgemoor Woods
It’s wonderful to see him discovering new sniffs to explore, and for now the emphasis is on encouraging that recall that will allow more chilled-out loose-lead walking in the future.
It’s a stop-start process as those hormones kick in. One day he’ll leap cheerfully into the car, the next he’ll pause to reconsider his options. Or flump like a dead weight in the grass refusing to budge.
SPRING IN THE AIR: among the flowers at Coleshill
But as the bluebells spring up around the woods and the weather improves, there’s no shortage of old haunts to rediscover – and there have been some major triumphs too.
APRIL COLOUR: bluebells in Hodgemoor Woods
He’s joined us on our first short holiday away from home, inquisitively snuffling around the unfamiliar Yorkshire landscape and cheerfully nestling down to sleep the night in a guest crate in front of the dying embers of a log fire.
CHANGE OF SCENE: holidaying in the Yorkshire Dales
If the sheep-dotted fields smell different from the ones at home, Ted’s not giving anything away. But then our boisterous friend is not the most observant of puppies. When a curious sheep comes to look at him through a gap in the nearby wall, Teddy is oblivious.
OPEN OUTLOOK: the bleating of sheep fills the morning air
And it’s no different back home. Squirrels and deer go unnoticed. Rabbits might as well stick their tongues out at him as they bounce around in his wake…
He’s been introduced to pigs, horses and cows but reactions have varied. He’s unsure what to make of those friendly snuffling pigs. He’s managed to walk past horses quite closely without getting too excited but couldn’t contain himself when some curious young calves wanted to chat through a gate.
LEARNING THE ROPES: en route to Winchmore Hill
For the most part, though, he’s blissfully unaware of the wildlife criss-crossing his path while his head is stuck in the nearest bush. We wonder whether this mystery puzzles him. Those scent receptors are so sensitive and must tell stories of a hundred mystery animals he’s never actually seen. But then perhaps it’s a blessing that he’s not shooting off into the undergrowth on the heels of every passing squirrel or bunny.
Sometimes it’s hard to measure progress in a linear way. Two steps forward, one step back. But it’s easy to overlook those little triumphs that reveal our rebellious teenager is genuinely making progress.
On a good day when that little face looks adoringly up at you as you approach the house, or when he actually does sit down at the kerb before crossing the road, there’s cause for optimism.
FEED ME: cupboard love at the dining table
But then there’s a suspicious looking pigeon crossing the path and he bolts like a greyhound, wrenching the lead and almost dislocating fingers or shoulder…frustrating.
And yet, for all the setbacks, we’re not back at Square One. As the labrador forums remind us, persistence and consistency will pay off. Well, that’s the theory anyway…
LIKE many teenagers, Teddy finds the world can be a pretty confusing place.
All that testosterone, for example, and other dramatic hormonal changes.
No more of that delicate squatting for a neat and orderly pee. Suddenly, there’s obsessive free-form leg-cocking on every bush and tree trunk in the park.
But just when you want to test the boundaries, get more independence and explore the world, everyone seems determined to cramp your style.
TESTING TIMES: Teddy the teenager
Mum and Dad seem determined to get you to walk to heel, older dogs are looking distinctly unimpressed at the idea of playing games and many of the male dogs you bump into appear suspicious, grumpy or actively aggressive.
For owners too this can be a confusing time, we’re told. After making it through all the toilet training and puppy biting, suddenly that cute little bundle of fluff has turned into a rebel.
The vets and dog trainers are great at warning what to expect, but it’s still a difficult time for owners when it seems as if their pride and joy has forgotten a lot of their training and developed an insolent streak.
Typically, it’s a time of increased independence, curiosity and social desires. Thankfully, Teddy is a super-sociable soul with no hint of aggression, even when those pesky other dogs start to bark and yap at him.
LOST IN THOUGHT: chewing a stick at Burnham Beeches
Sleek, glossy and big for his age, on a quiet day he’ll potter about in the undergrowth like a contented manatee, those sensitive scent receptors working overtime.
But he’s definitely keen to explore and a little too excited about meeting everyone. His recall can be great when he’s off the lead in remote places with few distractions. But he can’t be trusted in a busy park, especially with an interesting female around.
TASTE OF FREEDOM: off the lead in the woods
The experts say it’s all completely normal, a result of those dramatic hormonal changes and a reorganization of the brain, when all the early lessons seem to have been forgotten and the lead pulling, jumping and other anti-social acts seem to reflect a general lack of obedience and selective deafness when it comes to once-familiar commands.
SELECTIVE HEARING: recall can be unpredictable
Teddy knows how to sit, stay, settle down and search, but suddenly seems reluctant to do anything so compliant when required.
And as long as there’s a risk of him jumping up on a stranger, small child or vulnerable older dog, he needs to be under strict control whenever such hazards are around.
At 34kg, he’s just too big and boisterous: and these are situations he needs to become comfortable with, without using harsh training techniques or exposing him to bad experiences that could stay with him for life.
Gwen Bailey and other authors and trainers are reassuring: “Feelings of failure are normal, but remember that this phase will pass and you will both emerge on the other side older and wiser.”
Here’s hoping. In the meantime, using a long line has been one useful technique for practising recall, though using it without getting tangled in it is a feat in itself, and sometimes he’s more interested in chewing the line than focusing on the task in hand.
USEFUL LESSONS: on the training line
Like most owners we’ve had our fair share of embarrassing encounters and anxiety-inducing moments, when our pride and joy has wanted to jump all over a stranger or has suddenly chased off into the distance, distracted by a passing spaniel or friendly looking cockapoo.
LEARNING THE ROPES: practising recall
But if there are times we despair about him ever becoming that well-mannered model citizen who sticks to your side like glue whatever happens around them, there are plenty of small daily victories to remind us this is very much a journey, and that success doesn’t come overnight.
When things do go well, it can be easy to forget them, even on those occasion when they feel momentous, like the first perfect loose-lead saunter round the park or the times when Teddy makes the “right” choice to lie down and snuffle in the grass rather than jumping all over our neighbours.
TEMPTING TREAT: even teenagers need to eat
Just lately there have been more of those moments when we’ve had that warm glow that we might finally be making progress: like his first visit to an indoor cafe where he lay down contentedly despite the presence of other dogs at the table.
Of course there are those other times too, when Teddy flumps on the grass with a stick and refuses to move or where a moment’s inattention means you fail to realise he’s just taken off at 70mph in the direction of an unwary pigeon.
But at puppy class there are smiles all round when Teddy demonstrates he can be calm and contented rather than straining at the leash, even when fun small dogs are quite close by.
PAWS FOR THOUGHT: a peaceful moment
And when he’s snoozing at your feet or gazing at your with those wonderfully expressive gorilla-like brown eyes, there’s no hiding the fact of just how dramatically he’s wormed his way into our hearts in four short months.
Other labrador owners are perhaps the most reassuring, even if their messages are mixed. “Oh, he’s gorgeous,” they coo. “Such a handsome boy!”
LIVE WIRE: Teddy pauses for thought
And as Teddy leaps and jumps with excitement at the attention, that slight pause when they reflect back over the years. “And so lively too,” they add. “Don’t worry, he’ll be calmer when he’s two.”
AFTER those dull, muddy early weeks of the year, the world suddenly seems to explode into life in March.
CHEEKY CUSTOMER: a grey squirrel PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Suddenly – and only after long grey days of eager anticipation – the natural world is alive with activity, with something new to spot every day.
BEADY EYE: a kestrel on the lookout for prey PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Well, that’s the theory, anyway. Except that in 2024, the rain seemed to be unrelenting and the mud lingered remorselessly on until the end of the month.
WATERLOGGED: downpours leave their mark PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Fields languished under water and footpaths turned into claggy quagmires. But amid all the deluges and unpredictable temperatures there were still all those small, familiar, welcome signs that spring is inexorably pressing on with the business of encouraging new life to flourish.
CHILLY PROSPECT: wintry skies in Chesham PICTURE: Leigh Richardson
With the weather so grubby, nature lovers have been alert to the smallest changes in our local flora and fauna that signal those new beginnings and have been watching them with fascination.
MISTY MORNING: deer at Windsor PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Delight in the little things, said Kipling – yet all too often simple daily pleasures slip past us without us taking the time to savour them.
FURRY FACE: a cute youngster PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
But on a bright day in March, with the sun streaming in through the bedroom window after what seems like weeks of gales and torrential downpours, the birds are in full song.
DRESSED TO IMPRESS: a pheasant in full finery PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
And to quote Wodehouse: “The snail was on the wing and the lark on the thorn – or, rather, the other way around – and God was in His heaven and all right with the world.”
First it was the daffodils and primroses replacing the snowdrops, a welcome splash of colour around nearby villages, prompting the predictable outpouring of Wordsworth quotes.
SPRING LAMBS: new arrivals PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
And if that old favourite is a little too familiar, what about a less well known one from the Twitter account of @A_AMilne: “I affirm that the daffodil is my favourite flower. For the daffodil comes, not only before the swallow comes, but before all the many flowers of summer; it comes on the heels of a flowerless winter. Yes, a favourite flower must be a spring flower.”
SEA OF BLOSSOM: fruit trees and hedges come to life PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Almost overnight, it seems, the blackthorn hedges have become awash with abundant small white flowers, like sea foam splashing against the shoreline.
EARLY PROMISE: a long-tailed tit at Dorney Wetlands PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
But while the earliest hedgerow shrub to flower may herald the onset of spring, country folk warn of the so-called ‘Blackthorn Winter’, when the white blossoms can be matched in colour by frost-covered grass, icy temperatures and even late snow flurries.
EARLY RISER: a muntjac deer in the mist PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Although depicted in fairy tales throughout Europe as a tree of ill omen, blackthorn is given a rather magical reputational makeover by Dutch storyteller Els Baars, who suggests the “innocent” white flowers are the Lord’s way of telling the world that theblackthorn bush was not to blame for its twigs being used to make Christ’s crown of thorns.
And it’s far from being the only colour to catch the eye. Plumes of fragrant apple and cherry blossom appear all around too, a delight to bees and other pollinators before they start to shower to the ground like pink, white and red confetti.
Wonderful magnolia trees and glossy everygreen camellias and mahonias are fighting for attention in local gardens, while yellow gorse flowers have opened up across the heathland at Stoke Common and Black Park.
PRICKLY CUSTOMER: gorse flowers on Stoke Common PICTURE: Andrew Knight
The air is thick with birdsong in morning and early evening, robins, blackbirds and wrens shouting about territory while the local wood pigeons strut and coo. There’s frogspawn aplenty in local ponds and nest-building is under way in earnest.
FRIENDLY FACE: a fluffy garden favourite PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Sometimes even the most familiar local residents are worth a much closer look. Living close to a river, we tend to take for granted the birds and animals we see every day: the squirrels, pigeons and the ducks who amiably wander through the garden or quack for food at the front door.
DRESSED TO IMPRESS: the distinctive head of a drake PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
But as Graham Parkinson’s remarkable portraits show, even the ubiquitous mallard is a remarkably handsome fellow, and while the female lacks such dramatic colours, she has a remarkable depth and subtlety to her plumage that is equally striking.
SUBTLE PLUMAGE: the female duck PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
There’s an important advantage to not being so dramatically dressed, though – camouflage. Nesting alone means female ducks suffer a higher mortality rate than males, so it makes perfect sense to blend into the vegetation on their nesting areas.
Warmer days are encouraging the first butterflies out for a flutter, like the bright yellow brimstone, peacock, small tortoiseshell or red admiral.
UP FOR A FLUTTER: a peacock butterfly PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Many beetles have been waking up after their winter hibernation too, most noticeably the bright red seven-spot ladybirds, glistening like little red jewels as they warm their bodies in the morning sunshine.
The warmer daytime temperatures also lure adders out of hibernation, but they can hard to spot, even when sitting motionless in the sun.
ON THE MOVE: scudding clouds in Chesham PICTURE: Leigh Richardson
Early morning is the best time to see them while they’re still cold from the previous night and a little slower on the move – once warmed up they can wriggle with remarkable alacrity.
Those early mornings and sunny evenings are the best time for photography, as well as catching the sounds of woodland creatures stirring – the yaffle of a woodpecker, perhaps, or the agitated chittering of argumentative squirrels.
ROAD LESS TRAVELLED: the Chiltern Way PICTURE: Andrew Knight
Country lanes are beginning to look a little more welcoming, with splashes of colour to offset the brown: the cowslips and coltsfoot, dandelions and winter aconites providing welcome dots of yellow against an increasingly green backcloth.
Although many think of wild flowers like dandelions as a nuisance, Brtiain’s wild flowers are increasingly being recognised as a valuable asset, with people rediscovering their ancient medicinal properties and old recipes being dusted off for salads, wines and health tonics.
OLD FAVOURITE: the common cowslip PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Spring lambs are gambolling in the fields and local farms are a hive of activity too, with chicks hatching, vegetables to plant and spring cleaning to organise as the earth begins to warm – even if there are still plenty of frosty mornings and chill clear nights to freeze the bones.
MOTHER’S DAY: sheep at Great Missenden PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Whichever aspect of spring gives you most enjoyment – those insects emerging from hibernation, early blooms, noisy rooks or natterjacks, frosty morning walks or the antics of playful baby goats, squirrels and lambs, it’s an extraordinary time of year.
WORM MOON: nights can still be chilly PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
As Melissa Harrison says in her nature diary The Stubborn Light of Things: “It’s the oldest story: the earth coming back to life after its long winter sleep. Yet spring always feels like a miracle when at last it arrives.”
MORNING CALL: a barn owl hunting at dawn PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
As always, we’d like to give a very big thank you to all the local photographers who allow us to use their work. If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to our calendar entries, contact editor@thebeyonder.co.uk on email or via our Facebook group page.
ADOLESCENCE. At seven months and 30kg, our little black shadow has doubled in size and become something of a force of nature.
GROWING UP FAST: Teddy at seven months
Big, boisterous and overly friendly, there’s nothing subtle about our Ted.
As curious as he is clumsy, his furry snoot is quick to nose into everyone’s business, intrigued to find out what’s happening.
A sweet-natured soul, like most puppies he’s very excited about life. But he’s also at the age where leaping up on an unfamiliar child or older person could do serious damage, so training has been a top priority for several weeks now.
The trouble is, now that he’s a fully fledged leg-cocking teenager, he’s too old and over-exuberant for basic puppy socialisation classes and hasn’t completed the foundation course fundamentals that would normally secure him a place on “bronze”-level courses.
DIFFICULT AGE: exploring Penn Woods
There’s no shortage of training courses, it seems, but finding the right one in the right place at the right time has been harder.
Thankfully, Teddy’s been a quick learner and has been picking up a lot of the basic skills that would prepare him for a more formal training environment.
SITTING PRETTY: mastering the basics
The great news is that he’s sleeping through the night and seems to relish the comfort and peace of his crate.
Those early whimperings that were such a worry in the first few days have become a distant memory, and he seems properly settled in now, an intrinsic part of the family after the disruption of those early days before we found him.
SETTLING IN: Teddy feels more at home
He’s been out and about exploring the local woods too, though until we can be 100% sure of his immediate recall, it’s hard to find spots sufficiently remote to be confident about letting him off the lead.
STANDING PROUD: scaling the heights at Black Park
Being a labrador, he loves the water (the muckier the better, of course) and he’s predictably hungry, though perhaps not as singlemindedly food-motivated as some of his breed.
Which all means our sleek, shiny, bouncy boy is great company but needs to learn a few lessons about manners, over-excitement and how to cope with overwhelming distractions like squirrels, strangers and any other dogs he encounters.
FOREST SCHOOL: learning outdoors
He can sit, stay, lie down and walk to heel in short bursts when there are no such distractions: especially early in the day or later at night when other dogs are not around.
OFF THE LEAD: practising recall at Littleworth Common
But a favourite pastime when off the leash is to race at high speed past you while carrying leg-smashingly huge sticks, so he can’t be trusted if anyone vulnerable is around.
BIG IS BEAUTIFUL: stick carrying is a favourite pastime
A double-ended smart new training lead and harness has been partially effective in curbing the worst of the pulling, and scatter-feeding can be a helpful distraction on occasions too, but there’s no doubting that Ted can be high-octane company.
MUDDY FUN: getting messy at Penn Wood
There are times, too, when it’s easy to believe from the look in those expressive brown eyes that he’s quite deliberately setting out to wind you up. That insolent side-glance when he slips onto the sofa and stubbornly refuses to get off, for example.
But I rather like Susan Garrett’s belief in the mantra that our dogs are doing the best they can with the education we have given them, in the environment we’ve asked them to perform in.
THE EYES HAVE IT: testing boundaries
In other words, if they’re not doing what we want them to do, it’s probably not because they are being deliberately fickle but because we haven’t trained them properly, or are expecting too much of them in the situation we’ve put them in.
Time to get that training programme sorted, then. Watch this space. It’s a steep learning curve for us as much as him….
BLUEBELLS. If there’s one word which conjures up the Chilterns landscape in spring, it’s the flowers that have become such an intrinsic part of our woodland heritage.
SITTING PRETTY: bluebells among the trees PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
And if there’s one abiding positive image which emerged during that horrendous lockdown month of April 2020, it will be those vistas of bluebells dancing in the local woods.
POSITIVE IMAGE: bluebells in the woods
We were lucky, of course. Living on the edge of open country, it was easy to disappear into the woods for our vital daily permitted escape from the house.
And what a great healer nature was during those difficult months. From the deluge of Twitter and Instagram pictures being shared from woodlands across the Chilterns, it seems we were not alone in finding this a welcome respite from the grim tally of deaths and infections on the news feeds.
CARPET OF COLOUR: respite from the news
It’s not a luxury we took for granted either – friends in Italy, Spain, China and Argentina were under virtual house arrest, unable to get out for anything more than a tightly controlled shopping trip.
Not to mention those trapped on cruise ships or stranded in a drab hotel in a foreign country stressing about how to get home.
CALL OF THE WILD: woods were a blaze of colour
But those walks offered so much more than just a welcome escape from the house, a breath of fresh air and all-important exercise.
From the moment that the prime minister addressed the nation on March 23 about government plans to take unprecedented steps to limit the spread of coronavirus, it was clear we were in uncharted and scary territory – not just in the UK, but all over the world.
UNCHARTED TERRITORY: lockdown begins PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Doubtless many volumes will be written about the awful spring of 2020, and it’s hard to write anything positive about that time without being conscious of the terrible human toll – some 27,500 deaths in the UK by the end of April, with all the associated individual family tragedies those figures reflect.
For a while, it felt as if we might be joining the statistics. A long feverish weekend paved the way to a fortnight of slow recovery. But lying in the night coughing and sweating, listening to relentless government press conferences and stories of doom from around the world, it was all too easy to succumb to the paranoia.
NATURAL HEALER: the great outdoors
Every cough and tickle took on a new significance. What if there was a problem breathing? Would this mean dying on a ventilator in a hospital unable to say anything to your nearest and dearest? And the social media feeds didn’t help – this was real, and friends around the world were already having to cope with the loss of loved ones.
Thankfully, the symptoms subsided and strength returned. And nothing felt quite so exhilarating as the fresh air of that first tentative walk, even if we couldn’t smell the flowers.
FIRST STEPS: the road to recovery PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
It made those bluebell paths all the more enchanting, of course, a month-long carpet of colour on so many of our local paths…English bluebells, naturally, so long associated with the ancient woodlands of the Chilterns and a constant source of inspiration for local artists like Jo Lillywhite (below), whose paintings reflect the landscapes near her home in South Oxfordshire.
INSPIRATION: one of Jo’s paintings
As our first steps outdoors became a little more confident and we managed to stray further from home, there were new copses and paths to discover.
Enchanting and iconic, bluebells are said to be a favourite with the fairies – and the violet glow of these bluebell woods is an incredible wildflower spectacle that really does lift the spirits and warm the heart.
SPRING SPECTACLE: bluebells in Hodgemoor Woods
“There is a silent eloquence/In every wild bluebell” wrote a 20-year-old Anne Bronte in 1840.
The vivid hues may have begun to fade by the end of April, but the secret beauty of our ancient local woods helped to set us firmly on the road to recovery back in 2020 and provided a welcome gentler vision of a terrible month which will haunt so many for years to come.
ELOQUENT: bluebells delight the senses
Five years on, and paths across the Chilterns are set to spring into colour when April arrives.
From Henley to Cliveden, from the Ashridge Estate to Wendover, private gardens, huge estates and public nature reserves start to put on stunning displays, many of which will last well into May.
ELOQUENT: an April wander in the woods
Poets have written of blue bonnets, silken bells and dancing sapphires, waves of mystical blue and the fragrance of a thousand nodding heads.
It’s not hard to see why these modest blue flowers have won such a precious place in our hearts. As Anne Bronte realised, their “silent eloquence” still speaks volumes about the wonders of the natural world and the beauty of the ancient woodlands we are so blessed to know and love.
FEW Chilterns characters are quite as gloriously colourful as the male mandarin duck.
And although these stunning wildfowl originally hail from the Far East, nowadays they are a common sight on lakes and wetlands across the south-east of England.
MAKING A SPLASH: a mandarin duck PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
The unmistakable plumage features bright orange cheek plumes and ‘sails’ on their back, though females are much less ostentatious, with grey heads, brown backs and a white eyestripe.
Normally shy, the ducks breed in wooded areas near shallow lakes and marshes, often in tree cavities, with Springwatch managing to catch the cute fledging process back in 2018, as a succession of tiny fluffballs leaped to the ground.
BREEDING SEASON: grey herons are building nests PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Equally dramatic in a more prehistoric-looking way are the silhouettes of grey herons taking a break from their solitary fishing expeditions to set about the business of building their nests.
This is the time of year the distinctive birds come together to breed, often in busy heronries where they have returned for many generations.
ICONIC: the red kite PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Other bright spots amid the February mud and mire include the glimpse of a graceful red kite soaring on the thermals: the birds were rescued from extinction to become virtually synonymous with the Chiltern Hills in recent decades.
More humble but equally popular feathered friends at local bird tables include the cheeky robins that follow gardeners around as they dig the ground, sometimes becoming tame enough to be fed by hand.
GARDEN FRIEND: the cheeky robin PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Fluffy long-tailed tits are another endearing visitor, sociable and noisy in their small excitable flocks as they rove the woods and hedgerows building domed nests out of moss in bushes and tree forks.
These are majestic little homes, camouflaged with cobwebs and lichen, and lined with as many as 1,500 feathers to make them soft for the eight to twelve eggs the birds will lay.
ENDEARING: the long-tailed tit PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
But for an unparalleled avian spectacle, the photographers were out in their droves in 2024 to capture an extraordinary starling murmurations at Tring reservoir and watch thousands of birds swoop and glide in stunning patterns over their communal roosting sites as the last of the daylight fades.
Lesley Tilson was well placed to capture the drama of the aerial displays before that final moment when an unspoken signal seems to tell the group to funnel towards the ground with one last whoosh of wings.
DAZZLING DISPLAY: starlings swoop over Tring PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Early February is the peak season for badger cubs to be born, but if we can’t look inside their very private underground homes, we can spot other mammals up and about, especially at dawn and dusk.
Early risers might be rewarded by deer moving shyly around or later in the day catch them lying in a sheltered spot resting, ruminating and dozing.
COLD START: deer in Windsor PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
At the other end of the day it’s the time of year when toads start plodding back to their breeding ponds and sometimes need the help of human volunteers to help them cross busy roads.
Floods, snow and sub-zero temperatures can make February a month of contrasts in the Chilterns, but a welcome flurry of warmer days may help to herald the first true signs of spring.
HAZY DAYS: the view from West Wycombe Hill PICTURE: Siddharth Upadhya
For those with better lenses it’s also a time to capture the insect world in close up: a female bumblebee, perhaps, venturing out of hibernation to refuel on early blooming plants before looking for a suitable place to lay their eggs.
Despite the flooded fields and footpaths, there’s plenty to see for those with an eye for detail, from the squiggly trails left by caterpillars to poisonous fungi helping to break down dead wood or hazel trees opening their optimistic catkins to release their pollen.
WATERLOGGED: fields near Coombe Hill PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
But with tree branches bare and vegetation withered, it’s a good time of year to pick out birds as the dawn chorus begins to pick up volume, and as the first flowers start to poke through the soil crust, ramblers are on the lookout for snowdrop displays, crocuses and early daffodils.
On patches of heathland, the gorse has begun to provide a backdrop of yellow flowers but elsewhere colours are still muted, at least until the last few days of the month.
Nonetheless, it’s the shortest month, when hibernation is coming to an end and spring is slowly starting to assert itself, so those early optimistic signs are important.
SPLASH OF COLOUR: gorse in bloom PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Many need little encouragement to head off to the woods to revive body and soul, whatever the weather. But it’s perhaps understandable that teenagers might find the prospect of wandering around in a rain-soaked wood less than appealing.
Chris Packham bemoans the growing prevalence of “nature deficit disorder”, not an official mental health condition but an increasingly recognised reason for the disconnection from nature that both children and adults feel.
ON THE LOOKOUT: a kestrel hunts for food PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
The phenomenon was first identifed back in 2005 by child advocacy expert Richard Louv and linked to some of the most disturbing childhood trends, such as the rises in obesity, attention disorders, stress, anxiety and depression.
Louv argued that direct exposure to nature is essential for healthy childhood development and for our physical and emotional health.
HEALTHY OUTLOOK: the great outdoors PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Packham laments parents keeping youngsters indoors to protect them from danger and perhaps in the process perhaps exposing them to far more horrors in the online world that has nowadays become a replacement for outdoors adventures.
Back in 2018 it was already clear that British youngsters were spending twice as long looking at screens as playing outside, and for inner-city kids the opportunities to engage with the natural world may be minimal.
LAST LIGHT: a Chilterns sunset PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Louv’s book sparked an international movement to connect children and families to the natural world, as well as a growing recognition of the problem among the medical community.
Thankfully our photographers need no persuading to get out and about in all weathers, and we’d love to hear from any other nature lovers wanting to make the most of the Chilterns countryside, rain-soaked or otherwise.
If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to future calendar entries, join our Facebook group page or write to editor@thebeyonder.co.uk.
THIS week’s picture bids (a hopeful) farewell to winter with a snowscape by the late 19th-century French impressionist Claude Monet.
One of the pioneers of Impressionism, Monet captures a solitary black magpie perched on a gate with the light of the sun casting blue shadows on the freshly fallen snow.
The Magpie by Claude Monet
Completed in 1869 when the artist was staying in Normandy with his girlfriend and newborn son, he was able to experiment with the art of painting “en plein air”, which the landscape painter Eugene Boudin had introduced him to in the 1850s.
The pair spent the summer of 1858 painting nature together and both men came to prefer painting outdoors rather than in a studio, using natural light.
The Magpie is one of more than a hundred snowscapes produced by Monet and is his largest winter painting, but its timeless quality and intimate observation has a captivating simplicity for nature lovers often transfixed by the smallest of details.
When we first saw Teddy as a cute puppy, they looked wholly out of proportion with his body, like huge clown shoes.
Now, at six months’ old, our black labrador is twice the size he was when he came into our home two months ago, and still fleshing out fast.
GROWING UP FAST: Teddy at six months
He’s almost grown out of his smart new harness and the broken remains of a 30kg extendable lead are an indication of his pulling power, which means getting to grips with his recall training as a matter of urgency. Having an exhuberant 26kg puppy jumping up at strangers is no laughing matter.
SHOW OF STRENGTH: the broken extendable lead
The weather hasn’t helped, though. Footpaths are flooded, the woods are awash with muddy puddles and, fun though that undoubtedly is for a young labrador, it makes every outing just a little more challenging.
WET PAWS: footpaths are flooded
On the plus side, Teddy is sleeping through the night and his needle-sharp puppy teeth have given way to slightly less painful adult ones. Although he does try to be gentle, like all puppies he loves to chew.
That means no slippers, shoes or socks are safe and a couple of old fluffy friends have met with an unfortunate early demise.
FATAL INJURIES: Mr Sloth was loved too much
Mr Sloth was a constant early companion whose stuffing soon began to leak. Duck was very much loved but rapidly eviscerated, his squeaker rescued in time from being swallowed. Time to look out for some indestructible playmates, it would seem.
But what’s the secret of getting Teddy to become a model citizen? We’re surrounded by excellent puppy books, some first-class online resources and the advice of friends, experienced owners and breeders….but there are still plenty of contradictions.
But Teddy is already a little old for those early puppy classes and we need to see whether he can behave well enough to join an intermediate class.
Online, we love the straight talking and laidback approach of professional dog trainer Stonnie Dennis in Kentucky and the commonsense compassion of Canadian dog agility training and animal behaviour expert Susan Garrett.
Taken together, this pair of experienced podcasters don’t just have a huge following but also an immense amount of expertise to share, as well as absolute commitment to creating better lives for dogs and their owners.
Most importantly, they and other trainers committed to positively enriching dogs’ lives believe dogs will always do the best they can with the training we give them and the environment we expect them to perform in – which means that if they’re not doing what we want them to do, it’s our fault rather than theirs.
This can be a pretty important revelation to anyone convinced their beloved pet is being deliberately disobedient or who stumbles across trainers using old-fashioned methods based around correction and punishment.
These days we have the scientifiic evidence to show that positive reinforcement training not only works, but is much more beneficial to dogs’ health and wellbeing, as well as their bond with their owners.
POSITIVE THINKING: Teddy tackles some new challenges
Establishing that level of engagement doesn’t happen overnight, though. And for those of us new to the dog training game, there are bound to be setbacks as we battle to fully understand our canine companions.
For Susan Garrett, the answer lies in game-based training grounded in the science of animal behaviour. For Stonnie Daniels, it’s all about helping dogs reach their full potential through the use of physically and mentally demanding activities.
BEST BEHAVIOUR: Teddy in training mode
Whatever the precise formula, the goal is to raise happy, healthy and well socialised canine companions who can be much-loved family members.
Our new arrival has already won a place in our hearts. But we owe it to him to help him be that model citizen too, for everyone’s peace of mind.
IT’S not every day you get to see one of nature’s most dazzling wildlife spectacles without having to travel to a distant nature reserve or coastal resort.
But this week’s picture focus captures a spectacular starling murmuration over Tring, a lot closer to home than some of the more famous locations for such displays.
DAZZLING DISPLAY: starlings over Tring PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Lesley Tilson’s mesmerising shots capture the drama of the swoops and swirls against the evening sky in a constantly shifting pattern.
Murmurations happen across the UK from the Somerset levels to Brighton pier, from the Nortfolk fens to wetland nature reserves, and occur between November and February when flocks are boosted by migrant visitors from colder climes.
HOME TO ROOST: starlings swoop and swirl PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Scientists think they offer safety in numbers from predators but are still not completely sure how each bird knows which way to turn without bumping into the others.
Murmurations form over the birds’ communal roosting sites as the number of birds reaches its peak and the last of the daylight begins to fade.
SAFETY IN NUMBERS: the joy of homecoming PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
It’s a sight which has captivated artists too, like Oxfordshire artist Sue Side, whose work is often inspired by local landscapes and who became fascinated by the behaviour of starling flocks as they settle in their treetop roosts at RSPB Otmoor Nature Reserve.
“It is only close up you see the pattern, the purpose and togetherness of these starling flocks,” she says. “A little like family, a starling murmuration is a story of protection, sharing, gossiping and the joy of homecoming on darker winter days.”
TIME TO REST: flocks prepare to roost PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Lesley’s pictures certainly capture the drama and astonishing fluidity of those aerial displays, when an unspoken signal seems to tell the group to funnel towards the ground with one last sweeping motion and calming whoosh of wings.
“They are reducing in numbers now but Startops car park is the best view, so worth a visit,” she says.
CRISP mornings and plummeting temperatures replace the dreary days of December as the New Year casts a welcome sparkle over the timeless Chilterns landscape.
DAWN SPARKLE: mist on the fields PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
The branches may be bare and the fields covered in frost, but the first spring-flowering bulbs are beginning to poke through the leaf litter: snowdrops and winter aconites providing a welcome source of nectar for hungry bees at a time of year where other food may be hard to find.
WATERLOGGED: it’s wet in the woods PICTURE: Gel Murphy
As soon as the land heats up some paths are still waterlogged and our main roads are depressingly lined with litter, but as soon as you leave the main thoroughfares behind, the ramblers and dog walkers leave much less of an imprint on the surroundings.
OPEN COUNTRY: leaving the litter behind PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Here the birds are much more visible against the bare branches as they hunt out berries and there will be carpets of yellow and white flowers among the trees before too long.
BREAKFAST BERRIES: a robin finds a feast PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
From frosty dawn forays to chilly, starlit evening strolls, this is a time of year when the countryside may look asleep but small signs of life are everywhere now that the daylight hours are increasing.
DAWN LIGHT: a morning encounter PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
You can hear the first signs of a dawn chorus, as our feathered friends start to prepare for the breeding season after the long hard winter and begin to realise there’s more to life than bickering over the scraps on the bird table.
TASTY TREAT: a blue tit finds some nuts PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
The volume will grow day by day during the month as the sparrows, robins, dunnocks and tits all start to get in on the act, switching from clicking call notes to more coherent song, full of thoughtful phrases issued from the highest perches.
BATH TIME: a wren takes a dip PICTURE: Nick Bell
It’s still a delicate balance, though. The nights are still interminably long for small birds fighting to find enough food during the short chilly days to avoid starving during the hours of darkness.
BALANCING ACT: a marsh tit gets peckish PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
2024 proved to be a waxwing winter, with the berry-loving birds flocking to the UK in large numbers and brightening up our town centres with their swooping crests, distinctive black “eyeliner” and orange, grey and lemon-yellow tails.
WAXWING WINTER: a colourful visitor PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Another distinctive figure is the grey heron, the largest bird most of us will ever see in our garden with a wingspan of around 6ft, and also one of the earliest nesters.
EARLY NESTER: the grey heron PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
It’s not unusual to see herons picking up sticks and twigs towards the end of January, and some birds lay their first eggs in early February, though the normal start is early March.
ON SONG: a robin pointing the way PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Watching these dinosaur-like birds patrolling our river banks in search of a fishy snack, it’s hard to believe that roast herons were popular at medieval banquets. But they seem to be thriving these days, and they’re sociable birds, invariably nesting in long-established heronries which can include dozens or even hundreds of nests.
MAKING A SPLASH: a chilly swan PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Early morning forays to local woods and beauty spots provide a vivid reminder of just how much wildlife is around us, even if many animals are still sheltering from the wintry blast or are quick to disappear at the sound of an approaching footstep.
FISHING TRIP: a heron on the lookout for breakfast PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Mammals are on the move this month too: as well as secretive deer and badgers, the fox breeding season peaks after Christmas and January is a peak month for foxes fighting and being run over as they trespass on each other’s territories and range further afield in search of mates.
WHO GOES THERE?: a curious muntjac PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
From the sounds of barking deer and fox mating calls in those first daylight hours to the thrum of a woodpecker or whistle of a red kite, there are plenty of audible clues to the wealth of wildlife around us, even if it sometimes requires a sharp eye, zoom lens and early morning start to spot that heron, egret or well camouflaged owl.
WELL HIDDEN: an owl at Cassiobury Park PICTURE: Carol Ann Finch
If the ancient wings of the heron make the bird look positively Jurassic, the owl has long been a symbol of wisdom in literature and mythology. Their hunting prowess and night vision, in particular, impressed the Ancient Greeks, who believed that this vision was a result of a mystical inner light and associated the owl with the Goddess of Wisdom, Athena.
SILENT HUNTER: a barn owl hunting PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
The late American poet Mary Jane Oliver expressed it in a rather different way in her poem Little Owl Who Lives in the Orchard:
His beak could open a bottle, and his eyes – when he lifts their soft lids – go on reading something just beyond your shoulder – Blake, maybe, or the Book of Revelation.
The ubiquitous grey squirrels are also very lively just now. Cheeky and incorrigible, as they enter the breeding season they can be seen chasing each other madly through the treetops in a frantic courtship dance.
CHEEKY: the acrobatic grey squirrel PICTURE: Nick Bell
The invasive greys may have many detractors but there’s no doubting just how clever, ingenious and adaptable they are, as we recalled in an article marking Squirrel Appreciation Day.
ADAPTABLE: the ubiquitous grey squirrel PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Smaller mammals like voles and mice may not be quite so outgoing, but rustles in the leaf litter might give away their presence as they trundle around on their daily chores, or you might stumble across one of the network of trails leading to their underground homes.
SHY RUSTLE: a bank vole at Warburg PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Even if the birds are wildlife are too quick on the move to pose for your camera, there are plenty of lichens and mosses to provide glorious patterns on trees and walls alike, as well as perfect nesting materials for birds and food and shelter for invertebrates.
Fungi provide welcome splashes of colour too, and an array of intriguing patterns and shapes amid the soggy leaf litter.
FILLING THE GAP: bracket fungus on a tree bark PICTURE: Carol Ann Finch
The skeletal vegetation allows new vistas to open up too, however, exposing the earthworks, trails, mileposts and ditches so often hidden amid the undergrowth.
WELL TROD PATH: a mossy holloway PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
While most plants tend to fruit or flower later in the year, you might spot the vivid yellow of mahonia or winter-flowering heather, the first hazel catkins starting to appear along hedgerows and the splashes of colour from the winter berries or vibrant red and yellow dogwood stems.
FEATHERED FRIEND: a tiny silhouette PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
And if the landscape often lacks colour at this time of year, glorious sunsets and cloudless nights can often compensate.
COLOUR CONTRASTS: January’s wolf moon PICTURE: Carol Ann Finch
Clear January skies offer stargazers and nature photographers some great opportunities to turn their cameras skywards, as we examined in our full moon feature.
WOLF MOON RISING: January’s full moon PICTURE: Anne Rixon
Anne Rixon‘s stunning shot of this month’s Wolf Moon perfectly captured the timeless wonder of that striking vision when the moon shows its “face” to the earth.
Wolf moons and snow moons, blood moons and strawberry moons, harvest moons and worm moons…long before calendars were invented, ancient societies kept track of the months and seasons by studying the moon.
SLICE OF LIGHT: the moon’s surface PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Their shots reflect some of the amazing colour contrasts to be seen at this time of year, especially on dawn and dusk walks.
SKY’S THE LIMIT: sunset near Amersham PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
It’s a wonderful antidote to the relative bareness of the countryside, and a reminder of just how spectacular the Chilterns can be throughout the changing seasons.
SEA OF MIST: dramatic colours at Coombe Hill PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
As always we’re greatly indebted to our wonderful team of photographers who have been out and about in all weathers trying to capture the perfect shot, and we’re always keen to hear from other contributors who may be out and about across our circulation area, from Berkshire to the Dunstable Downs, from the outskirts of London to the wilds of Oxfordshire.
LOCAL LANDMARK: Brill windmill PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to our future calendar entries, join our Facebook group page or write to editor@thebeyonder.co.uk.
HOWEVER much you love the rolling contours and ancient ridges of the Chilterns, sometimes we all need a change of scene.
SEASIDE RENDEZVOUS: beach huts at Herne Bay PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Whether that means a glorious sunset in the Lake District, a misty day on Dartmoor or the remote grandeur of a Scottish glen, the UK has a startling range of different landscapes to explore.
But as we’ve discussed before, perhaps the one view that those who live in the landlocked Chilterns miss the most is the chance to gaze out to sea and soak up the sound of crashing waves and the smell of salt in the air.
LOOKOUT PERCH: seagulls on the sea front PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Whether that’s on a glorious white sandy beach in the Outer Hebrides or on a Cornish clifftop, as an island nation with more than 11,000 miles of coastline, there’s no shortage of different seaside habitats to choose from, as we discovered back in 2022 on our exploration of some dramatic coastal landscapes.
From shingle strands to smugglers’ coves, from golden sands to rocky outcrops, our journey took us from the wilds of Norfolk to the Moray Firth. But what about destinations closer to home, within a couple of hours’ drive?
ISOLATED: the pier at Herne Bay PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Good transport links put half a dozen counties inside that arc, from the beach huts of Dorset and Essex to the seaside towns of Kent and Sussex.
But our outing this week takes us to Herne Bay in North Kent in the company of regular Beyonder contributor Gel Murphy.
The town rose to prominence as a seaside resort during the early 19th century after the building of a pleasure pier and promenade by a group of London investors, and reached its heyday in the late Victorian era.
COLOURFUL: beach huts on the seafront PICTURE: Gel Murphy
A later replacement pier became the second longest in the country after Southend-on-Sea, complete with electric tramway, theatre and pavilion, but the central section was torn down by a storm in 1978, leaving the end of the pier isolated in the sea.
At the time it held a sports centre, opened in 1976 by former Prime Minister Edward Heath, but the centre was demolished in 2012, leaving a bare platform. Multi-million pound plans to reconnect the derelict pier head have so far failed to come to fruition, leaving the eerie landmark most visitors recognise today.
ALL AT SEA: the pier end PICTURE: Gel Murphy
It’s in stark contrast to those lovingly decorated colourful beach huts that line the front.
But if it’s genuinely eerie you’re looking for, maybe it’s worth a longer trip across to the other side of Kent and the wilds of Dungeness, that flat, desolate headland where fishermen’s huts lie in the shadow of a nuclear power station, an extraordinary landscape which we explored in 2020 in the company of artist Tim Baynes.
OUR picture highlight this week takes us to the night skies and a couple of spectacular shots of January’s Wolf Moon taken by two of our regular contributors.
Clear January skies offer stargazers and nature photographers some great opportunities to turn their cameras skywards, and their shots reflect some of the amazing colour contrasts to be seen at this time of year.
Anne Rixon‘s stunning shot of the Wolf Moon rising perfectly captures the timeless appeal of that striking vision when the moon shows its “face” to the earth.
TIMELESS APPEAL: January’s Wolf Moon PICTURE: Anne Rixon
It also provides a flashback to the same time last year where another of her photographs summed up why the full moon was so significant in past centuries to different civilisations around the world.
Wolf moons and snow moons, blood moons and strawberry moons, harvest moons and worm moons…long before calendars were invented, ancient societies kept track of the months and seasons by studying the moon.
For millennia, mankind has been fascinated by the night sky, all the more vividly lit up in those times before stargazers had to contend with light pollution from cities and the movements of aircraft and satellites.
BLUE MOON: peeping through the clouds PICTURE: Carol Ann Finch
But even contending with those modern challenges didn’t stop Carol Ann Finch producing another brilliant shot of the Wolf Moon emerging from the clouds.
The full moon happens about once every 27 days when the moon and the sun are on exactly opposite sides of Earth. The moon looks illuminated because we see the sun’s light reflected from it.
TheOld Farmer’s Almanacexplains variations in the names, comparing those of Native American tribes with names imported by colonial settlers.
The term ‘wolf moon’ is thought to have been coined by Native Americans because of how wolves would howl outside villages during the winter. Different tribes may have had other names for it around the world – spirit moon, goose moon or even bear-hunting moon, for example.
These days, such near-monthly events are popular with photographers around the world hoping for clear skies so that they can stake out some of the most iconic backdrops, from mountains and coastlines to landmarks like Stonehenge and Glastonbury Tor.
OUR picture choice this week takes us to Oxfordshire and a series of shots celebrating the unusual architecture of Blenheim Palace.
The country house at Woodstock – one of the largest in Britain – is the seat of the Dukes of Marlborough and was home to the Churchill family for 300 years.
FAMILY SEAT: Blenheim Palace PICTURE: Jo Galloway
Designated a Unesco World Heritage Site in 1987, it’s the only “palace” in England not home to the Royal family or a bishop.
It was built between 1705 and 1722, named after the 1704 Battle of Blenheim and originally intended as a reward for John Churchill, 1st Duke of Marlborough, for his military triumphs in the War of the Spanish Succession.
NATIONAL MONUMENT: the baroque palace PICTURE: Jo Galloway
Designed in the relatively rare English Baroque style favoured by Sir Christopher Wren (St Paul’s Cathedral) and William Talman (Chatsworth House), it was conceived by Sir John Vanbrugh as a national monument first and a comfortable family home second, prompting arguments with the Duchess which led to his resignation in 1716.
English Baroque style was less flamboyant and extravagant than continental preferences, with a more solid, understated appearance, though there’s nothing low-key about the style of this Grade I listed building, with its gilded state rooms and priceless collections.
STATESMAN: Churchill was born at Blenheim PICTURE: Jo Galloway
It’s where Winston Churchill was born in 1874 and spent much of his childhood, even proposing to Clementine during a party there in 1908 in a small summer house in the grounds known as the Temple of Diana.
But the dukedom was facing near bankruptcy when his close friend and first cousin the 9th Duke of Marlborough inherited the title in 1892, prompting him into a marriage of convenience with American railroad heiress Consuelo Vanderbilt, which helped to save Blenheim from ruin.
PASTORAL STYLE: the gardens at Blenheim PICTURE: Jo Galloway
Little remains of the original landscaping, because in the mid-18th century Lancelot ‘Capability’ Brown redesigned the entire 2,000 acres of gardens and parkland in his pastoral style of seemingly natural landscapes of woods, lawns, and waterways.
One of the most successful landscape architects of his time, Brown arrived in 1764 and faced a mammoth task.
NATURAL LOOK: Capability Brown took charge in 1764 PICTURE: Jo Galloway
The Grand Bridge had been the subject of more than a few critical remarks previously due to the rather underwhelming streams that ran underneath it. The famous poet Alexander Pope joked that minnows in the stream “took on the grandeur of whales as they swam underneath it”.
Brown’s solution was to widen the trickling river Glyme by digging out a valley, flooding it then damming it, creating a stunning lake with the lower storeys of the Grand Bridge, featuring 30 secret rooms, deliberately submerged under water.
GRAND CASCADE: Brown’s man-made waterfall PICTURE: Jo Galloway
He also engineered a man-made waterwall, the Grand Cascade, as an overflow section to the dam across the valley.
It was all done by hand, dug and shaped by labourers with the soil lined with a watertight layer of clay – and on such a scale that when the lake was eventually flooded, it took over a year to fill it.
LABOUR OF LOVE: the lake at Blenheim PICTURE: Jo Galloway
Brown’s transformation of the gardens and parklands took 11 years and the landscape has remained largely unchanged over the centuries since, perhaps a reflection of his talent for creating such a natural, idyllic style of English garden that it looks as if it has always been there.
King George III was so impressed by the timeless view of the Grand Bridge stretching out across the still and shimmering water of the lake when visiting in 1786 that he remarked: “We have nothing equal to this!”
RELAXED SURROUNDINGS: the Blenheim gardens PICTURE: Jo Galloway
The photo study is the work of amateur photographer Jo Galloway from the West Midlands, a regular visitor to Blenheim over the years.
“I took Mum there a few times and it was my first time back without her. Because I go out on my own I want to feel safe and it’s only about an hour from home, a lovely place to photograph with different areas,” she says.
DIFFERENT AREAS: the gardens offer plenty of variety PICTURE: Jo Galloway
Having taken up photography as a hobby some years ago, buying a Canon EOS600D, retirement has given here more time to enjoy it, she says.
“Retirement has allowed the time and space to start using it properly with upgraded lenses and a better understanding of how to get the best from the camera,” she says – and she’s enjoyed the process of learning about ways of moving from “taking snaps” to creating better quality photographs.
SMALL DETAILS: leaves in close up PICTURE: Jo Galloway
“Photography is very personal, however for me it brings great pleasure from the minute I pick my camera up, to roaming around new and old places through to creating the image and sharing it with others, hopefully for their enjoyment too.”
Sir Winston Churchill would doubtless approve of the desire to capture Blenheim on camera. He wanted to be buried at nearby St Martin’s Churchyard in Bladon, within sight of the palace, and his wishes were honoured when he died in 1965 at the age of 90.
After the state funeral service at St Paul’s, his body was taken by train to Oxfordshire for a private burial where only relatives and close friends were present. His beloved wife Clementine was buried alongside him in 1977.
FOND FAREWELL: the lake at Blenheim PICTURE: Jo Galloway
OUR picture choice this week takes us to Oxfordshire and a series of shots celebrating the unusual architecture of Blenheim Palace.
The country house at Woodstock – one of the largest in Britain – is the seat of the Dukes of Marlborough and was home to the Churchill family for 300 years.
FAMILY SEAT: Blenheim Palace PICTURE: Jo Galloway
Designated a Unesco World Heritage Site in 1987, it’s the only “palace” in England not home to the Royal family or a bishop.
It was built between 1705 and 1722, named after the 1704 Battle of Blenheim and originally intended as a reward for John Churchill, 1st Duke of Marlborough, for his military triumphs in the War of the Spanish Succession.
NATIONAL MONUMENT: the baroque palace PICTURE: Jo Galloway
Designed in the relatively rare English Baroque style favoured by Sir Christopher Wren (St Paul’s Cathedral) and William Talman (Chatsworth House), it was conceived by Sir John Vanbrugh as a national monument first and a comfortable family home second, prompting arguments with the Duchess which led to his resignation in 1716.
English Baroque style was less flamboyant and extravagant than continental preferences, with a more solid, understated appearance, though there’s nothing low-key about the style of this Grade I listed building, with its gilded state rooms and priceless collections.
STATESMAN: Churchill was born at Blenheim PICTURE: Jo Galloway
It’s where Winston Churchill was born in 1874 and spent much of his childhood, even proposing to Clementine during a party there in 1908 in a small summer house in the grounds known as the Temple of Diana.
But the dukedom was facing near bankruptcy when his close friend and first cousin the 9th Duke of Marlborough inherited the title in 1892, prompting him into a marriage of convenience with American railroad heiress Consuelo Vanderbilt, which helped to save Blenheim from ruin.
PASTORAL STYLE: the gardens at Blenheim PICTURE: Jo Galloway
Little remains of the original landscaping, because in the mid-18th century Lancelot ‘Capability’ Brown redesigned the entire 2,000 acres of gardens and parkland in his pastoral style of seemingly natural landscapes of woods, lawns, and waterways.
One of the most successful landscape architects of his time, Brown arrived in 1764 and faced a mammoth task.
NATURAL LOOK: Capability Brown took charge in 1764 PICTURE: Jo Galloway
The Grand Bridge had been the subject of more than a few critical remarks previously due to the rather underwhelming streams that ran underneath it. The famous poet Alexander Pope joked that minnows in the stream “took on the grandeur of whales as they swam underneath it”.
Brown’s solution was to widen the trickling river Glyme by digging out a valley, flooding it then damming it, creating a stunning lake with the lower storeys of the Grand Bridge, featuring 30 secret rooms, deliberately submerged under water.
GRAND CASCADE: Brown’s man-made waterfall PICTURE: Jo Galloway
He also engineered a man-made waterwall, the Grand Cascade, as an overflow section to the dam across the valley.
It was all done by hand, dug and shaped by labourers with the soil lined with a watertight layer of clay – and on such a scale that when the lake was eventually flooded, it took over a year to fill it.
LABOUR OF LOVE: the lake at Blenheim PICTURE: Jo Galloway
Brown’s transformation of the gardens and parklands took 11 years and the landscape has remained largely unchanged over the centuries since, perhaps a reflection of his talent for creating such a natural, idyllic style of English garden that it looks as if it has always been there.
King George III was so impressed by the timeless view of the Grand Bridge stretching out across the still and shimmering water of the lake when visiting in 1786 that he remarked: “We have nothing equal to this!”
RELAXED SURROUNDINGS: the Blenheim gardens PICTURE: Jo Galloway
The photo study is the work of amateur photographer Jo Galloway from the West Midlands, a regular visitor to Blenheim over the years.
“I took Mum there a few times and it was my first time back without her. Because I go out on my own I want to feel safe and it’s only about an hour from home, a lovely place to photograph with different areas,” she says.
DIFFERENT AREAS: the gardens offer plenty of variety PICTURE: Jo Galloway
Having taken up photography as a hobby some years ago, buying a Canon EOS600D, retirement has given here more time to enjoy it, she says.
“Retirement has allowed the time and space to start using it properly with upgraded lenses and a better understanding of how to get the best from the camera,” she says – and she’s enjoyed the process of learning about ways of moving from “taking snaps” to creating better quality photographs.
SMALL DETAILS: leaves in close up PICTURE: Jo Galloway
“Photography is very personal, however for me it brings great pleasure from the minute I pick my camera up, to roaming around new and old places through to creating the image and sharing it with others, hopefully for their enjoyment too.”
Sir Winston Churchill would doubtless approve of the desire to capture Blenheim on camera. He wanted to be buried at nearby St Martin’s Churchyard in Bladon, within sight of the palace, and his wishes were honoured when he died in 1965 at the age of 90.
After the state funeral service at St Paul’s, his body was taken by train to Oxfordshire for a private burial where only relatives and close friends were present. His beloved wife Clementine was buried alongside him in 1977.
FOND FAREWELL: the lake at Blenheim PICTURE: Jo Galloway
TODAY’S picture is a modest ‘still life’ marking an auspicious day in the life of a favourite aunt.
Born, like the late Queen, when George V was still on the throne, she was a toddler during the abdication crisis and a child during the war.
BIG DAY: a birthday toast at 90
In the decade when she was born, the average life expectancy for women was a little over 60, so as a young woman she could hardly have expected to be toasting this day with a slap-up Indian meal, cabernet sauvignon and chocolate cake.
But by the late 80s there were 200,000 people in the 90s club and today the figure is three times that.
We’re out and about in that part of North Kent which was swallowed up into Greater London in 1965 and where my aunt has spent her married adult life.
FAMILY ROOTS: Findochty on the Moray coast
It’s more than 600 miles from the tiny Scottish fishing village which was home to her parents, but both of them were Salvation Army officers and always on the move.
PAUSE FOR THOUGHT: the harbour at Findochty
Religion has always played a powerful role in small fishing communities where jobs are dangerous and so reliant on nature and perhaps it should come as no surprise that the Salvation Army was swelled by recruits from such places, even if their mission was often to bring succour to the poor and homeless of Britain’s big cities.
FISHERMEN’S FRIEND: the words of Psalm 107
The “battle” began on the streets of East London in 1865 when Methodists William and Catherine Booth abandoned the traditional concept of a church pulpit to take God’s word directly to the most vulnerable and marginalised people.
Their work included setting up shelters for people who were homeless, running soup kitchens, helping people living in the slums and setting up rescue homes for women fleeing domestic abuse and prostitution.
As the youngest of three daughters, my aunt recalls a childhood of disruption and new beginnings as her parents travelled the country performing their Army duties, from Camberwell, Peckham and Nunhead in London to distant cities like Sheffield and Norwich.
Born in the 1890s and married in 1917 in the local Salvation Army hall, they both died in London, in 1962 and 1979 respectively. But then one of the penalties of living to a grand old age is to lose so many of your nearest and dearest along the way: her eldest sister in 1979, middle sister in 2014 and beloved husband in 2017, after more than 60 years of marriage.
But she is straight-talking and unsentimental, with a laconic sense of humour that has survived the passing decades. A talented pianist and supremely efficient PA, her fingers must have formed a million shorthand outlines and hundreds of glorious tunes in a household that was once always filled with music.
Raising a glass of cabernet, she chuckles over past adventures and expresses regret that she may not now be able to revisit the beautiful Scottish fishing village which has played such an important part in her life, and where her parents’ graves can be found, high on a cliff looking out over the Moray Firth.
OPEN OUTLOOK: Hillhead Cemetery at Findochty
But the moment passes and for now, there’s still plenty to toast. All those happy memories, for a start – of friends and family, outings and adventures – and the simple luxury of being well enough to still get out and about at 90…
THIS week’s picture choice is a fabulous splash of colour to brighten the dull opening days of January.
The portraits were taken in Beaconsfield by Lesley Tilson, a regular contributor to the Beyonder’s Chilterns Year series of monthly articles chronicling the changing seasons, and show one of the most beautiful birds to be seen in the UK, the waxwing.
WINTER VISITOR: the colourful waxwing PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Berry-loving waxwings are winter visitors from the coniferous forests of Scandinavia and eastern Russia, the pinkish, starling-sized birds heading for the UK in years when there is a poor crop of berries in Sweden and Finland.
“Waxwing winters” when many hundreds of the birds visit the UK are relatively rare but sizeable visits were recorded by British ornithologists in 2012/13 and 2016/17.
HUNGRY GUEST: waxwings love berries PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
The birds have swooping crests, distinctive black “eyeliner” and orange, grey and lemon-yellow tails. They get their name from the red tips of their wing feathers, which look like drops of sealing wax.
Their preference for red berries often brings them into contact with people, and 2023 was hailed as being the best “irruptions” for more than a decade, with flocks of more than 500 being recorded by enthusiasts in Scotland in November.
INVASION: the birds have been seen across Bucks PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
By the end of December, the colourful visitors were being spotted across Buckinghamshire in such numbers that local ornithologists stopped trying to record all the sightings.
The plump arrivals adore rowan and hawthorn berries, but also cotoneaster and rose, their liking for the colourful berries of ornamental trees drawing them into city centres, supermarket car parks and out-of-town shopping areas.
IT’S 7.30am, the day after Teddy’s five-month birthday, and I realise it’s the first time in a month I haven’t been awoken by an early morning whimper.
Not that this much-appreciated long lie will be repeated very often during the coming weeks, but the minor miracle is an important milestone nonetheless, and justifiable cause for celebration.
Though Teddy was pretty much house trained by the time he arrived – a merciful blessing to escape the constant toilet training that normally dominates the early weeks of puppy ownership – he wasn’t crate trained, so getting him adjusted to sleeping overnight in one has been a gradual transition.
Few sounds are more upsetting than that of a puppy whimpering, and the little monsters seem quick to realise this.
INNOCENT LOOK: taking it easy
For those in rented accommodation or with neighbours close by, there’s an added frisson of tension in the equation: those cries sound even louder in the early hours and keeping other people awake could be a recipe for disaster.
But when is a whine a disgruntled complaint about being left alone and when is it a genuinely distressed plea to go to the loo? Distinguishing between the two proves to be something of a minefield, but we’re making good progress.
The breeders, veteran owners and online forums are full of advice for the uninitiated, but it’s not without its contradictions.
BEST BEHAVIOUR: learning the ropes
That said, positive puppy parenting is the universal order of the day: there’s no room in 2023 for harsh punishments or old-fashioned displays of dominance by macho types intent on proving who’s leader of the pack at any cost.
But if there’s agreement about the need for firmness, patience and consistency, there’s less consensus about the precise way of winning the undying trust and obedience of the cute furry rascal who’s rapidly threatening to destroy the family home if left to their own devices.
FURRY RASCAL: getting to grips with new surroundings
We’ve suddenly been plunged into unfamiliar conversations about crates and harnesses, recall, teething and socialisation – a whole new language to learn, it seems.
Food treats are an essential training tool, especially when a young labrador is involved, but isn’t good training all about engagement rather than bribery? And we don’t want super-sleek Ted to become overweight, either…
Yes, Teddy can (often) sit neatly on command, is learning to sleep through the night in his crate and has a smart new harness that is helping to prevent him pulling on the lead.
DRESSED TO IMPRESS: the new harness
A couple of training sessions with professional dog trainer Liz are enough to demonstrate just how good he can be, even though now that he’s 17kg he can pull like a train on a conventional lead and we can’t afford to have him jumping up on strangers.
QUICK LEARNER: trying to walk to heel
He’s still young and excitable, which is normal, but so eager to learn: as long as we can set time aside for that all-important training.
Talking of which, the sound of a muffled bell sounding at the front door reminds me of Teddy’s latest trick.
Toilet training bells sound like a bit of a gimmick, but the idea is simple enough: many dogs will bark or whine to let you know they want to go outside, so why not make it easier for them to tell you they need to go to the loo?
TOILET BREAK: training bells at the door
Great stuff. Teddy’s a quick learner and soon gets the idea. And we’ve made progress establishing that this isn’t just a request to go for a walk or to play in the park but a message with a much more clearly defined purpose.
When you live in a rented flat that’s carpeted with a puppy who’s bound to have an upset tummy from time to time, this is a game-changer we’re not going to take for granted.
TIME TO PLAY?: a face on the stairs
There’s no time to lose to get Teddy fully engaged, to keep him from getting bored and picking up bad habits, and we owe him that time commitment, however challenging it can be at times.
THE EYES HAVE IT: practising the imploring gaze
One look at those imploring brown eyes is enough to know it’s the right thing to do, even if labradors are a little too good at the subtle art of imploring gazes to suit every occasion…
In milder years the Chilterns may be spared the travel chaos caused by icy roads and seasonal storms but suffer dreary days of drizzle and mirk when we yearn for those clear skies and chilly mornings that make it feel like a proper winter.
THIN ICE: winter arrives witha vengeance PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Muddy footpaths don’t quite create the same Christmas spirit as sparkling frosts, and mild temperatures strike fear in our hearts about climate change.
Christmas Eve 2023 was the warmest for 20 years at Heathrow Airport, for example. And in 2022, New Year’s Day was the warmest on record, with temperatures thought to have been boosted by warm air wafting in from the Azores.
But even in those wetter weeks when steady downpours dampen our spirits and cause heavy flooding, as the festive lights go up in villages across the Chilterns, occasional breaks in the rain allow us the chance to enjoy the more subtle winter hues and the undoubted relief that nature can offer to those dispirited by the short, dull days.
IN THE PINK: birds silhouetted against a winter’s sky PICTURE: Paula Western
2021 saw the dullest December in 65 years, with only around 26.6 hours of sunshine across the UK, leaving many feeling dispirited.
CHILL IN THE AIR: 2022 saw a cold start to winter PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
But if 2023 was worryingly mild, the first two weeks of the previous December saw the coldest start to meteorological winter since 2010.
Even on the coldest days, bare branches and frozen berries provide striking patterns on early morning rambles, while the weak winter sunshine can create dramatic light effects.
DELICATE PATTERN: a spider’s web encased in ice PICTURE: Gel Murphy
And while there may be fog and mist to contend with, on crisper days when the ice forms delicate filigree patterns on spiders’ webs and animals’ breath hangs in the cold air, such rambles can be a genuine delight.
It’s a time of year when the past feels very close at hand in our ancient Chilterns landscape, where small villages sit clustered round their ancient churches as they have done for centuries, spirals of woodsmoke curling into the air as dusk falls and the inviting glow of lamps and lanterns lights up the cottage windows.
IN TOUCH WITH THE PAST: the Chilterns in winter PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Here, even those hallmarks of our industrial past, the railway bridges and canal towpaths, feel wholly immersed in the natural world, their weathered bricks polished and aged by time and the elements until it feels as if they must have always been here.
WEATHERED BRICKS: the canal at Wendover PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Yet for many, especially those coping with bereavement, illness or personal tragedies, this is a particularly challenging time of year.
FIRE IN THE SKY: dawn and dusk offer dramatic contrasts PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
For some, seasonal affective disorder is a more serious type of depression that comes and goes in a seasonal pattern, symptoms of which include a persistent low mood, loss of interest in everyday activities, an extreme lethargy and feelings of despair, guilt and worthlessness.
AWASH WITH COLOUR: fields outside Amersham PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Even nature lovers can struggle with winter depression on those short days when the sun is obscured and the landscape full of greys and browns, but many find refuge and comfort in the great outdoors from the cares and tribulations of daily life.
MUTED COLOURS: a frosted tree outside Amersham PICTURE: Gel Murphy
For some, that renewed relationship with the natural world may be even more dramatic. As Catherine Arcolio explained in 2023, for her, nature became a genuine life-saver, a way of overcoming despair and addiction.
WOODLAND ESCAPE: peace among the trees PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
“Each day was an abyss,” she recalled. “All the colour, light, purpose and connection had drained out of my life.”
PLACE OF REFUGE: the healing power of nature PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
That was before a move from the city to a tiny rural community offered her the chance to reclaim her life amid the quiet of the woods, the natural world allowing room to breathe, unwind and recover.
ROOM TO BREATHE: Amersham nature reserve PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Catherine’s tale may be particularly dramatic, but she is far from alone – and even veteran blogger Peaklass admits to finding the dark of winter days very difficult.
WINTER LIGHT: savouring the outdoors PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
“Sometimes, on the darkest winter days, the very best place to be is in the woods,” she says. “Among the noisy rattle and creak of bare branches and the constant seethe of water over rocks, there’s a strange kind of peace and stillness.
Nonetheless, she writes with delight of the winter solstice: “From tomorrow, the sunset ticks later minute by tiny minute and the light gradually returns, ready to coax awake the sleeping seeds and fill the forests with gold again.”
SHORTEST DAY: a winter solstice sunset PICTURE: Anne Rixon
That’s when those snatched snapshots can provide a welcome foretaste of the excitement of spring, when a ray of sunlight falls perfectly on a leaf or the mist clears to suddenly leave the landscape awash with colour.
DAWN TO DUSK: the sky glows outside Amersham PICTURE: Gel Murphy
The sparse foliage makes it easier to pick out feathered friends against bare branches and first-time birdwatchers find it a perfect opportunity to begin recognising the different shapes and colours.
Plummeting temperatures can make winter a challenging time for small birds, but they have several adaptations which help them through the colder months, including a range of feathers which perform a range of different functions.
EVERGREEN APPEAL: a mistle thrush at Cliveden PICTURE: Nick Bell
Wing and tail feathers are used for flight, contour feathers cover their body and thousands of tiny downy and semi-plume feathers sit next to a bird’s skin for insulation.
Contour feathers have a waterproof tip and a soft, downy base and are arranged like roof tiles over the bird’s body, overlapping so the downy part of one feather is covered by the waterproof tip of another.
For those wanting to identify birds by the sounds they make, there couldn’t be a better starting point than Mark Avery’s guides to different types of birdsong, worth exploring in plenty of time ahead of the spring, when the dawn chorus starts to grow in volume and variety.
CHOCKS AWAY: a red kite launches into action PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Certainly for those out in all conditions the occasional glimpses of winter sunshine help to expose some cheerful splashes of colour, like the rich plumage of a mandarin duck lit up like a painting-by-numbers gift set against dark water.
And once the sunlight finally does break through the mist and murk, the clarity of the winter air can provide some startling contrasts – the sails of a windmill silhouetted against the winter sky, the glorious colours of a red kite dramatically backlit by the afternoon rays or vibrant berries glittering like jewels among the winter foliage.
Some distinctive landmarks have dominated the skyline for hundreds of years, like the magnificent post mill at Brill which has timbers dating from the 17th century.
Over in Oxfordshire, the stone tower mill at Great Haseley suffered years of neglect before being fully restored to its original working order in 2014.
MILLER’S TALE: the Great Haseley windmill PICTURE: Siddharth Upadhya
For winter ramblers, dusk and dawn are favourite times to brave the elements, not just in the hope of a spectacular sunrise or sunset but because those quiet times are also often the most promising for catching wildlife unawares.
Even when nature is looking at its lowest ebb and many creatures are dormant or hibernating, the hoot of a tawny owl or bark of a fox or muntjac reminds us that our local wildlife is never too far away, even if we can’t always see it.
SLIM PICKINGS: a red kite looks grumpy in the snow PICTURE: Anne Rixon
The welcome whistle of red kites is familiar to anyone living in the Chilterns, while buzzards too are an increasing common sight above our woodlands once more, having quadrupled in number since 1970.
FROZEN TRACKS: leaves crackle underfoot in the woods PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Furtive and fast-moving, or sleepy and nocturnal, our stoats and weasels, dormice and badgers are not easy to spot, but tracks in the snow and rustles in the hedgerows may give away their presence.
WINTRY WANDER: a path through the trees PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
At night the owls are calling loudly too, and on clear nights those with their lenses trained further afield have the chance of capturing the appropriately named “cold moon” or other features of the night sky.
COLD MOON: the final full moon of the year PICTURE: Anne Rixon
Wrapped up warm against the elements, a woodland wander on a winter’s evening can make it much easier to imagine how much more familiar early civilisations were with those night skies and glorious constellations.
FAMILIAR SIGHT: the night sky in December PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
For those communities, the cycles of the lunar phases helped to track the changing seasons, with different Native American peoples naming the months after features they associated with the northern hemisphere seasons (including howling wolves, which give us January’s Wolf Moon).
FROSTED BERRIES: icy treats for hungry birds PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Throw in some more of those spectacular sunsets to lift the spirits and it’s easy to forget the torrential downpours and muddy footpaths.
BLUE-SKY THINKING: a misty morning near Amersham PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
With the winter solstice behind us, the days start getting longer from here on. There’s plenty of grim winter weather to come, but it’s beginning to feel as if spring is just around the corner.
LONGEST NIGHT: the winter solstice PICTURE: Anne Rixon
Perhaps it’s hardly surprising that around the world the day should have been seen as such a significant time of the year in many cultures, with midwinter festivals marking the symbolic death and rebirth of the sun, and with some ancient monuments like Stonehenge even aligned with the sunrise or sunset at solstice time.
Wildlife may be hard to spot on these short days, especially when the sun is obscured and the countryside can appear bleak, but snatched snapshots provide a welcome foretaste of the excitement of spring, like a juvenile great crested grebe surfacing amid water glinting like mercury.
MERCURY RISING: a young great crested grebe PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Even back at the bird table, the humble robin is dressed to impress, a welcome splash of colour on the drabbest of days.
Come rain, hail or shine, our photographers are out in all weathers capturing the beauty of the Chilterns countryside, and we are enormously grateful for their evocative portraits of our local flora and fauna throughout the year.
If you would like to contribute any pictures, favourite moments or seasonal suggestions to our future calendar entries, join our Facebook group page or write to editor@thebeyonder.co.uk.
FEW people know the quiet lanes, secret footpaths and pretty villages of the Peak District quite as well as Suzanne, the photographer best known as ‘Peaklass‘ to her army of followers on social media.
The writer and wanderer loves nothing more than escaping into the hills and dales that surround her home base in Hathersage.
And our picture choice to kick off the New Year shows a quartet of her stunning images showing the changing seasons across that glorious landscape.
An avid runner, walker and explorer, she’s never happier than when she’s outdoors and she’s passionate about every aspect of the Peak District National Park – its wildlife and communities, as well as the scenery.
MISTY MORNING: The Promise PICTURE: Peaklass
Undeterred by bad weather she’s out and about in all seasons, eager to communicate her joy in the beauty of the place and its hidden treasures through daily pictures and musings.
Much of her content features on the Let’s Go Peak Districtindependent visitor website where she and a team of other photographers and local experts showcase the beauty of the Peak District National Park to the world.
It also features in calendars, prints and cards that she sells through her own online shop.
But her social media feeds offer a more intimate, personal glimpse of the landscape she loves so much, with its weathered stone walls and inviting gates to mist-covered paths and frosty fields.
ANCIENT LANDSCAPE: Entice PICTURE: Peaklass
“The more I read the news, the more I retreat to the woods,” she says. “Nature is undemanding, quietly performing complex, beautiful daily miracles, whether or not we notice.
“Out here with the trees, there’s an odd reassurance that comes from feeling how insignificant we are, how fleeting.”
From picturesque villages to tranquil valleys or deserted footpaths, Suzanne knows where to find the perfect shot to capture the essence of place, savouring the quiet of winter mornings, the delicate beauty of hoar frost or the silence among the trees when the only movement is that of the mist rising to meet the sunlight.
It’s not hard to see why she loves the national park either, with its ancient woodlands, curving valleys and windblown moors, along with those picture-postcard villages where the locals know everybody’s business and where stone cottages with smoking chimneys still line the twisting lanes just as they did 400 years ago.
WINTER TREES: The Silent Woods PICTURE: Peaklass
She’s written more than 70 Peak District walks, many bespoke routes for pubs, hotels or holiday accommodation providers, and is excited about the opportunity to inspire others to explore the local countryside, especially children.
She confesses to finding the dark of winter days very difficult, writing with delight of the winter solstice: “From tomorrow, the sunset ticks later minute by tiny minute and the light gradually returns, ready to coax awake the sleeping seeds and fill the forests with gold again.”
But equally, there’s little to beat the “feel-goodness” of a winter walk, she insists, “wrapped up warm, breath clouding, footsteps crunching, knowing there’s a hot chocolate waiting at the end”…
Winter may rage with wild winds and rattling branches, but its fading colours, rusting bracken and sullen skies have their own beauty, and Christmas lends a special magic to the picturesque villages of old stone cottages, the sparkling lights and decorated trees making homes look cosy and inviting.
Freshly fallen fluffy snow soaks up the sound waves from cars and people, softly blanketing the woodland floor and leaving only the bleating of sheep or the croak of jackdaws to disturb the peace.
AUTUMN PALETTE: Falling PICTURE: Peaklass
Autumn feels like a quiet season too, she reflects, compared with the riot of birdsong and bursting colours of spring and summer. “Autumn is slow, peaceful, as if Nature is gathering her thoughts, musing on the year and tucking in for the night,” she says.
Whether it’s the lamps coming on one by one across the valley or a little church sitting “like a boat adrift on a sea of mist” with the distant hills watching on, waiting for the village to wake, she brings a touch of poetry to the scene, as well as those startling images.
Lingering a while by the brook in Padley Gorge, where your breathing slows to match the soft push and pull of the water between rocks, or standing under giant beech trees as the soft early morning light turns gold, she is adept at capturing the subtle nuances of the landscape, and encouraging others to find room to escape the interruptions of the real world.
“When the world is too noisy and sad, it helps to walk into the kaleidoscope of an autumn country lane,” she reflects. “To hear nothing but your footsteps and the leaves falling, and to feel the solidity of old trees arching their boughs over you. I hope everyone can find their lane…”
Suzanne’s photographs can be found on her website and social media accounts, including Twitter and Instagram.
FEW people know the quiet lanes, secret footpaths and pretty villages of the Peak District quite as well as Suzanne, the photographer best known as ‘Peaklass‘ to her army of followers on social media.
The writer and wanderer loves nothing more than escaping into the hills and dales that surround her home base in Hathersage.
And our picture choice to kick off the New Year shows a quartet of her stunning images showing the changing seasons across that glorious landscape.
An avid runner, walker and explorer, she’s never happier than when she’s outdoors and she’s passionate about every aspect of the Peak District National Park – its wildlife and communities, as well as the scenery.
MISTY MORNING: The Promise PICTURE: Peaklass
Undeterred by bad weather she’s out and about in all seasons, eager to communicate her joy in the beauty of the place and its hidden treasures through daily pictures and musings.
Much of her content features on the Let’s Go Peak Districtindependent visitor website where she and a team of other photographers and local experts showcase the beauty of the Peak District National Park to the world.
It also features in calendars, prints and cards that she sells through her own online shop.
But her social media feeds offer a more intimate, personal glimpse of the landscape she loves so much, with its weathered stone walls and inviting gates to mist-covered paths and frosty fields.
ANCIENT LANDSCAPE: Entice PICTURE: Peaklass
“The more I read the news, the more I retreat to the woods,” she says. “Nature is undemanding, quietly performing complex, beautiful daily miracles, whether or not we notice.
“Out here with the trees, there’s an odd reassurance that comes from feeling how insignificant we are, how fleeting.”
From picturesque villages to tranquil valleys or deserted footpaths, Suzanne knows where to find the perfect shot to capture the essence of place, savouring the quiet of winter mornings, the delicate beauty of hoar frost or the silence among the trees when the only movement is that of the mist rising to meet the sunlight.
It’s not hard to see why she loves the national park either, with its ancient woodlands, curving valleys and windblown moors, along with those picture-postcard villages where the locals know everybody’s business and where stone cottages with smoking chimneys still line the twisting lanes just as they did 400 years ago.
WINTER TREES: The Silent Woods PICTURE: Peaklass
She’s written more than 70 Peak District walks, many bespoke routes for pubs, hotels or holiday accommodation providers, and is excited about the opportunity to inspire others to explore the local countryside, especially children.
She confesses to finding the dark of winter days very difficult, writing with delight of the winter solstice: “From tomorrow, the sunset ticks later minute by tiny minute and the light gradually returns, ready to coax awake the sleeping seeds and fill the forests with gold again.”
But equally, there’s little to beat the “feel-goodness” of a winter walk, she insists, “wrapped up warm, breath clouding, footsteps crunching, knowing there’s a hot chocolate waiting at the end”…
Winter may rage with wild winds and rattling branches, but its fading colours, rusting bracken and sullen skies have their own beauty, and Christmas lends a special magic to the picturesque villages of old stone cottages, the sparkling lights and decorated trees making homes look cosy and inviting.
Freshly fallen fluffy snow soaks up the sound waves from cars and people, softly blanketing the woodland floor and leaving only the bleating of sheep or the croak of jackdaws to disturb the peace.
AUTUMN PALETTE: Falling PICTURE: Peaklass
Autumn feels like a quiet season too, she reflects, compared with the riot of birdsong and bursting colours of spring and summer. “Autumn is slow, peaceful, as if Nature is gathering her thoughts, musing on the year and tucking in for the night,” she says.
Whether it’s the lamps coming on one by one across the valley or a little church sitting “like a boat adrift on a sea of mist” with the distant hills watching on, waiting for the village to wake, she brings a touch of poetry to the scene, as well as those startling images.
Lingering a while by the brook in Padley Gorge, where your breathing slows to match the soft push and pull of the water between rocks, or standing under giant beech trees as the soft early morning light turns gold, she is adept at capturing the subtle nuances of the landscape, and encouraging others to find room to escape the interruptions of the real world.
“When the world is too noisy and sad, it helps to walk into the kaleidoscope of an autumn country lane,” she reflects. “To hear nothing but your footsteps and the leaves falling, and to feel the solidity of old trees arching their boughs over you. I hope everyone can find their lane…”
Suzanne’s photographs can be found on her website and social media accounts, including Twitter and Instagram.
OVER the years, how many youngsters have dreamed of getting a train set for Christmas?
Across the generations, from the wooden, tin and clockwork models of the Victorian and Edwardian eras to the OO gauge electric models popularised in the 60s and 70s, countless children must have awoken to the excitement of a toy train on Christmas morning.
But although our picture choice this week shows a model railway, this is no ordinary train set.
WORK OF ART: recreating the past in miniature PICTURE: Chris Nevard
It’s more like a work of art, a carefully crafted diorama using scale models and landscaping to recreate an authentic glimpse of a bygone era – and it’s the work of professional modeller, photographer and blogger Chris Nevard from Guildford in Surrey.
What makes Chris’s models come to life is a combination of painstaking research, artistic flair and an expertise born of over 40 years’ experience of building prize-winning model railways.
BEHIND THE LENS: Chris Nevard
He creates scenes so lifelike that it’s often hard to be sure that they really are models.
From collieries and quaysides to branch lines and even a cement terminal, his creations are often surprisingly small and transportable for such convincing landscapes, springing up at exhibitions or commissioned by individual customers.
TRUE TO LIFE: a colliery scene PICTURE: Chris Nevard
As well as writing about model making and undertaking photographic commissions for the UK-based Model Rail magazine and several manufacturers, in recent years Chris has also built model railways on a commercial basis.
If that wasn’t enough to keep him busy, he also plays in a band, enjoys fine ale and actively pursues an interest in social and industrial history.
The fascination with railways began as a “spotty teenager” living in Sweden in the 1970s, he says, and a particular fascination with the Somerset & Dorset Railway was stoked by the pictures taken by the prolific railway photographer Ivo Peters during the postwar steam era.
LAYOUT COMMISSION: Neath Riverside PICTURE: Chris Nevard
Conjuring up the “perfect English railway” running through Chris’s favourite part of the country, the appeal was perhaps inevitable. even if he was too young to travel on the line.
But the influence of Ivo Peters is perhaps particularly significant. “Ivo lived in Bath and photographed the line and people extensively,” says Chris. “Through his eyes and lens he captured more than just images of trains and stations – he captured the soul behind the railway.”
That’s the same fascination Chris shares when he sees an inspiring picture in a book.
SENSE OF PLACE: atmosphere is crucial PICTURE: Chris Nevard
“I then want to read about the people and the location, trying to work out what it was really like to live and exist in the portrayed scene,” he says. “Understanding more than track geometry and what engines were used is vital if I’m going to have a successful stab at recreating something from the past in miniature which has atmosphere and a feeling of time and place.
“To achieve that I need to know about the personalities and the fabric that made or makes up the community.”
Intricate modelling and clever photography allows him to adapt scenes to the seasons, capturing the mood of a misty morning or chilly evening, but it’s not just the fascination with historical detail which marks out his layouts, but also his delight in the characters who inhabit them.
MISTY MOOD: morning in the colliery PICTURE: Chris Nevard
Regular tongue-in-cheek blog entries capture moments frozen in time from the miniature worlds he’s created, with a cast of tiny individuals living out their dramas in front of a growing audience of thousands on social media.
It’s all a far cry from that day in 1978 when he bought his first engine by mail order from Hattons of Liverpool, but then the modelling world has been transformed in that time too.
“Modellers more than ever before are realising that there is a lot more to realism than ‘correct’ flange-ways, bolts and exact scale gauge,” he says. “Influences from the USA and mainland Europe where model makers frequently embrace the overall scene equally is at last starting to have a real effect over here too.
FIERY SKIES: sunrise at Catcott Burdle PICTURE: Chris Nevard
“The internet and more recently social media have created a highly effective platform for people to share and exchange ideas. This ‘real time’ tool is really making modellers push the boundaries, which in turn is producing some really exciting new model railway projects and layouts!”
OVER the years, how many youngsters have dreamed of getting a train set for Christmas?
Across the generations, from the wooden, tin and clockwork models of the Victorian and Edwardian eras to the OO gauge electric models popularised in the 60s and 70s, countless children must have awoken to the excitement of a toy train on Christmas morning.
But although our picture choice this week shows a model railway, this is no ordinary train set.
WORK OF ART: recreating the past in miniature PICTURE: Chris Nevard
It’s more like a work of art, a carefully crafted diorama using scale models and landscaping to recreate an authentic glimpse of a bygone era – and it’s the work of professional modeller, photographer and blogger Chris Nevard from Guildford in Surrey.
What makes Chris’s models come to life is a combination of painstaking research, artistic flair and an expertise born of over 40 years’ experience of building prize-winning model railways.
BEHIND THE LENS: Chris Nevard
He creates scenes so lifelike that it’s often hard to be sure that they really are models.
From collieries and quaysides to branch lines and even a cement terminal, his creations are often surprisingly small and transportable for such convincing landscapes, springing up at exhibitions or commissioned by individual customers.
TRUE TO LIFE: a colliery scene PICTURE: Chris Nevard
As well as writing about model making and undertaking photographic commissions for the UK-based Model Rail magazine and several manufacturers, in recent years Chris has also built model railways on a commercial basis.
If that wasn’t enough to keep him busy, he also plays in a band, enjoys fine ale and actively pursues an interest in social and industrial history.
The fascination with railways began as a “spotty teenager” living in Sweden in the 1970s, he says, and a particular fascination with the Somerset & Dorset Railway was stoked by the pictures taken by the prolific railway photographer Ivo Peters during the postwar steam era.
LAYOUT COMMISSION: Neath Riverside PICTURE: Chris Nevard
Conjuring up the “perfect English railway” running through Chris’s favourite part of the country, the appeal was perhaps inevitable. even if he was too young to travel on the line.
But the influence of Ivo Peters is perhaps particularly significant. “Ivo lived in Bath and photographed the line and people extensively,” says Chris. “Through his eyes and lens he captured more than just images of trains and stations – he captured the soul behind the railway.”
That’s the same fascination Chris shares when he sees an inspiring picture in a book.
SENSE OF PLACE: atmosphere is crucial PICTURE: Chris Nevard
“I then want to read about the people and the location, trying to work out what it was really like to live and exist in the portrayed scene,” he says. “Understanding more than track geometry and what engines were used is vital if I’m going to have a successful stab at recreating something from the past in miniature which has atmosphere and a feeling of time and place.
“To achieve that I need to know about the personalities and the fabric that made or makes up the community.”
Intricate modelling and clever photography allows him to adapt scenes to the seasons, capturing the mood of a misty morning or chilly evening, but it’s not just the fascination with historical detail which marks out his layouts, but also his delight in the characters who inhabit them.
MISTY MOOD: morning in the colliery PICTURE: Chris Nevard
Regular tongue-in-cheek blog entries capture moments frozen in time from the miniature worlds he’s created, with a cast of tiny individuals living out their dramas in front of a growing audience of thousands on social media.
It’s all a far cry from that day in 1978 when he bought his first engine by mail order from Hattons of Liverpool, but then the modelling world has been transformed in that time too.
“Modellers more than ever before are realising that there is a lot more to realism than ‘correct’ flange-ways, bolts and exact scale gauge,” he says. “Influences from the USA and mainland Europe where model makers frequently embrace the overall scene equally is at last starting to have a real effect over here too.
FIERY SKIES: sunrise at Catcott Burdle PICTURE: Chris Nevard
“The internet and more recently social media have created a highly effective platform for people to share and exchange ideas. This ‘real time’ tool is really making modellers push the boundaries, which in turn is producing some really exciting new model railway projects and layouts!”
KERRIE Ann Gardner’s love of nature shines through in her words as well as her pictures.
A writer and poet as well as an artist and photographer, her social media accounts reveal a young woman “enchanted by the natural world, angered by our treatment of it” and “always happier outside”.
COUNTRY LANES: running is “like a prayer” PICTURE: Kerrie Ann Gardner
A keen runner, she relishes early mornings when the air is cold and the sun casts an amber glow over the landscape, or at nightfall when the indigo darkness descends on the lanes round her home in East Devon as the rooks and jackdaws return to their roosts.
“Running, I think, is my favourite way to pay attention,” she writes. “For a time, I tried to run faster, to challenge myself, break records. But I soon realised that this is not the reason I run. Running, for me, is not a competition. It is, in fact, more like a prayer.”
WINTER OUTLINES: January Rooks PICTURE: Kerrie Ann Gardner
Kerrie studied fine art at A-level, and loved taking photographs as a teenager, but it wasn’t until more recently, when she acquired a Nikon D7000, that she started getting the sort of photographs she had always dreamed of.
Whether that means snatching the briefest glimpse of an owl or woodcock, marvelling at the rare glory of the aurora borealis or simply catching the morning mist lingering over the local landscape, those early starts and dusk outings provide the perfect opportunities to see the local landscape at its best.
PURPLE GLOW: a rare glimpse of the aurora PICTURE: Kerrie Ann Gardner
“Our home is nestled within the beautiful borderlands of Dorset, Devon and Somerset, which affords me ample opportunity to get outside and capture some breathtaking scenes,” says Kerrie.
“I am an avid lover of the British countryside and the wildlife within it and want little more than to be outside experiencing it as much as possible.”
SOFT SPOT: a pair of tawny owlets PICTURE: Kerrie Ann Gardner
It might be a pair of tawny owlets capturing her attention, delightfully fluffy hungry siblings out in open sunlight begging for food.
“I have a soft spot for owls,” says Kerrie. “They have always beguiled me. I think it’s their eyes – those unfathomable, obsidian-like eyes, Guinness-dark and knowing in ways I can only imagine.”
EVENING MEAL: a barn owl hunting PICTURE: Kerrie Ann Gardner
But it might as well be an unusual cloud formation, or a long-deserted road through the woods which conjures up thoughts of the clatter of ancient cart wheels and all the feet which once walked there: drovers, animals, vagabonds and priests.
As well as her passion for photography, her interests range from horticulture to sea swimming, astronomy to dinosaurs.
COLD COMFORT: Swirling Rooks PICTURE: Kerrie Ann Gardner
She enjoys growing her own food and is fascinated by birds and folklore, interesting weather, fungi and the night sky, as her blog, poems and Twitterand Instagram profiles reflect.
From silhouettes of winter trees to hard frosts and full moons, her interests are reflected in her delicate artwork too.
SILHOUETTE: Winter Woodcock PICTURE: Kerrie Ann Gardner
But although she always had a love of art, formal study stifled her creativity, making it hard for her to translate the scenes in her imagination onto the page.
Social media can be an inspiring and engaging place, but it can also sap your confidence, she believes. “On bad days, it can seem like every other artist is producing amazing work while your own stuff never meets the mark.”
DREAMSCAPE: Going Home PICTURE: Kerrie Ann Gardner
Now 38 and a full-time artist and writer, the former ecologist switches the mediums she uses quite regularly, but often uses a blend of soft pastel and acrylic paint for the haunting landscapes that feature as fine art Giclée prints in her online shop.
Recurring images include the bare bone silhouettes of winter trees. “A lot of my inspiration comes when I’m running the lanes near our house,” she says. “I find movement invaluable for that. It stills my mind and allows me to see with more clarity so ideas can amalgamate.”
PAINTED STONE: Fox Fires PICTURE: Kerrie Ann Gardner
“As for social media, it’s been brilliant for getting my artwork seen which I am very grateful for, and I’ve had opportunities arise as a result, like being asked to contribute a piece to the BTO’s Red Sixty Seven book, which wouldn’t have come about otherwise.
“But it can be a difficult tool to negotiate during periods when you haven’t created much, as it can feel like everyone else is making while you’re falling behind.”
Her work for sale includes original drawings, prints and painted stones, the latter mainly focusing on birds.
BIRDS IN THE HAND: Welsh Ravens PICTURE: Kerrie Ann Gardner
And as well as revamping her online shop for 2024, she promises we’ll see more of her photographs too.
“I don’t really buy into the whole New Year’s resolution thing, especially as to my mind the winter months are a time for hibernation and deliberation,” she says. “And yet, I do think it’s good to voice intention in these darker months. It’s like planting a bulb the right way up, making it easier for the ensuing plant to break the soil and reach the light.
NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION: Kerrie Ann Gardner
“So I’m sending down roots to remind myself that next year there needs to be more photography in my life and that it needs to be shared, because it’s not much use stuck on a hard drive.”
OUR picture choice this week takes us “across the pond” to New Hampshire and a world of photographs and micro poems celebrating the natural world.
This is the work of Catherine Arcolio, a 62-year-old whose Leaf and Twig blog began more than a decade ago as a practical way of helping her to recover from depression and addiction.
WORLD OF COLOUR: detail from Morning Meditation PICTURE: Catherine Arcolio
As she revealed in a frank features interview this week, the pairing of poetry and photography began after she moved from the city to a tiny rural community and became an important daily ritual that provided a foundation for her recovery.
In around a dozen words, her poems celebrate both the natural world and the human condition, while the images focus on the landscapes, wildlife, flowers and insects around her home, close to the state border with Vermont.
FISHING TRIP: At The Elegant Edge PICTURE: Catherine Arcolio
Her blog subscribers celebrate her ability to “take the ordinary things of this world…and in one image and a few perfect words reveal them as magical”, with many posts receiving dozens of likes.
“Your photos and prose are like little delicious sweets for the soul,” writers one reader. “Your poems always take me to a quiet, peaceful place of bliss,” says another.
WHITE OUT: detail from Sighs In The Hay PICTURE: Catherine Arcolio
Remarkably, there’s been a post very day since July 2011, and Catherine’s archive provides a searchable database of those entries, all 4,000-plus of them.
She confesses: “This daily art-making saves me. I’ve been training my eye to always be on the lookout for beauty as I listen deeply for all the languages of nature so I can translate them into poetry and share them.”
MOMENT OF PEACE: detail from Spirit Guide PICTURE: Catherine Arcolio
And she goes on to explain to her subscribers: “I’ve constructed a kind of life raft that keeps me from being pulled under by the ugliness, grief and disappointment that is inevitable in life. There is room on that raft for everyone. Especially you.”
FOR Catherine Arcolio, nature wasn’t always a refuge – but it was to become a genuine life-saver.
“There came a time when I had nothing left but hopelessness and despair,” she recalls on her website Leaf and Twig.
“Each day was an abyss. All the colour, light, purpose and connection had drained out of my life. I’d spent decades self-medicating my depression until eventually, my ‘solution’ became an addiction.
TOUGH JOURNEY: Catherine Arcolio
“Together, depression and addiction held me hostage for a number of years and then brutally robbed me of the will to live.”
It took support from her family and friends and a move from the city to a tiny rural community in New Hampshire for Catherine to find the resources that could help with the hard process of managing her depression and recovering from addiction.
SMALL-TOWN THERAPY: detail from Perspective PICTURE: Catherine Arcolio
“I found comfort in the quiet of the woods and in the peacefulness a lack of cell service imposes,” she says. “Nature asked nothing of me but my respect. I could be exactly as I was. Slow. Speechless. Sparkless. My spirit was in tatters.”
Lying across the river from Vermont and just a few hours from the Canadian border, her chosen place of refuge proved the ideal place to reclaim her life, she reflects.
SAFE REFUGE: detail from Asylum PICTURE: Catherine Arcolio
“It’s a very rural area. Our “town” features a stop sign, post office and tiny market,” she says. Immersed in nature, she was able to get out and about in all weathers, soak up the sunshine and rain and appreciate the particular beauty of each season and the natural processes of birth, ageing and death, savouring the eternal return of spring.
“A model of the whole, complicated, entwined, gloriousness of life,” she says. “That second spring I started to notice colours again. So many shades of green! A sky so blue you could practically splash it on your face.”
SECOND SPRING: detail from Visitor PICTURE: Catherine Arcolio
After living such a desolate grey monochrome existence for so long, the contrast was dramatic, but the transformation did not happen overnight.
“The healing was happening in infinitesimal increments, too small to notice daily or even monthly,” Catherine explains. “And then suddenly, like in the Wizard of Oz, the world was full of colour once again.”
WORLD OF COLOUR: detail from Morning Meditation PICTURE: Catherine Arcolio
Darkness wasn’t banished, but there was definite progress. The question was, how to keep moving toward the light?
Trawling the internet, Catherine stumbled across the work of Satya Robyn, an author, Buddhist teacher and psychotherapist who advocated writing short poetic observations or “Small Stones” as a way of engaging with the world in all its beauty.
POETIC SNAPSHOTS: detail from Destination Spring PICTURE: Catherine Arcolio
“I followed her prompt of writing a short observation each day for a month – and then just never stopped,” she recalls. “I decided to take a photograph of what I observed as I communed with nature each day and pair it with my words.
“Later I would learn this pairing is an ancient art form called ekphrastic poetry. All I knew was that it was helping me stay connected, aware, hopeful and grateful.”
COLD COMFORT: detail from Winter Work PICTURE: Catherine Arcolio
Now 62, she started posting on her Leaf and Twig website back in 2011, garnering dozens of “likes” for her short poems and making a “very modest” revenue stream from subscriptions, supplemented by occasional sales of fine art prints and greetings cards through her pixels.com and fineartamerica shops.
TASTY TREAT: detail from Break Time PICTURE: Catherine Arcolio
The poetry and photographs became something of a daily ritual, she explains: “One day at a time for over a decade I’ve built a foundation for my recovery and a body of work that honours and celebrates the natural world and our human condition.
“It happened organically, not as a grand plan. Just a practice to keep connected, to focus my mind towards gratitude rather than despair. This daily art-making saves me. I’ve been training my eye to always be on the lookout for beauty.”
SUNNY OUTLOOK: detail from Dreaming Porch PICTURE: Catherine Arcolio
In a “loud world” that moves faster and faster, she aims to transport viewers into a peaceful and intimate space, an opportunity to “linger in the renewal, nourishment and wonder of the natural world”.
And, like the woods, her website has been a refuge too, a “lovely community” of people who share their views through the comments, she says.
“That has been so healing to me, that the response to my work echoes the spirit in which it is offered.”
FIERY FINISH: detail from Flames from the Night Sky PICTURE: Catherine Arcolio
The internet can be a mean place, but Catherine’s website has been a sanctuary where supporters have found themselves drawn to her images and words, and the promise of beautiful daily encounters that they offer. And long may that continue.
IT’S four years since Pete Hawkes and Matt Kirby teamed up to produce The Best of Chilterns Wildlife, but the little square book is still a marvellous introduction to the fascinating species that make the Chiltern Hills so very special.
IN FOCUS: The Best of Chilterns Wildlife
From badgers and bats to moorhens and moths, the book contains more than 150 photographs chronicling the most familiar flora and fauna of the area, along with a selection of rarer visitors – nearly all taken by enthusiasts while out and about exploring the local landscape.
It’s not quite a spotter’s guide, but the pocket-sized volume is divided into helpful sections which include mammals, birds, amphibians, reptiles, invertebrates, fish, plants, lichen, fungi, slugs and snails.
CHANGING SEASONS: harvest time PICTURE: Karen Woodward
Inspired by Matt Kirby’s Chesham Wildlife facebook page, where for years local people have posted their nature photographs, the book contains a glorious cross-section of colour pictures and even includes some photographic advice from those fascinated by the challenges posed by different types of wildlife.
With more than 4,000 members and a focus on the 10-mile radius around Chesham, the group features daily posts exploring popular haunts from the Pednor Valley and Chartridge to the Chess Valley, Tring Reservoirs, Marlow and Ashridge estate.
GARDEN FAVOURITE: the chirpy robin PICTURE: Graham Parsons
From the glorious front-cover portrait of a brown hare captured by Ben Hartley to wasps and beetles, the book is not intended as a comprehensive guide, but captures a good range of the species which thrive in the different habitats in and around the Chilterns Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.
The AONB runs north-eastwards from Goring to Luton and Hitchin, encompassing the core circulation area of The Beyonder.
FISHING TRIP: an egret on the hunt for a meal PICTURE: Carol Scott
Amid the ancient beech woodland and rare chalk streams are a huge array of birds, for example, from woodpeckers, nuthatches and jays to egrets and owls, from kingfishers, kestrels and buzzards to the iconic red kite that has become such a familiar symbol of the region.
Short sections focus on some of the different habitats of the area, from hedgerows and rivers to chalk grassland and gardens, while the book also guides readers to nature reserves and Sites of Special Scientific Interest managed by a range of conservation bodies.
ICONIC: red kites have become a familiar sight PICTURE: Graham Parsons
Local author, publisher and gallery owner Pete Hawkes stresses that one aim of the book was to increase awareness and understanding of local wildlife, helping people to differentiate between various species and deepening their respect for nature and the countryside.
From woodland flowers and butterflies to orchids, beetles, fungi and grasses, smaller and less familiar species are not forgotten, either.
Something of a labour of love, it took a couple of years to collate the pictures and put together the text, but the compact volume has proved popular, with more than 2,000 copies sold since its launch in 2019.
FOR some it’s the most evocative, magical and colourful month of the year: a time of misty mornings when a chance ray of sunlight might highlight the delicate filaments of a spider’s web or a dramatic sunset provide the perfect finale to a rain-soaked ramble.
SUNSET SONG: spectacular colours at Coombe Hill PICTURE: Gel Murphy
After the fun and games of Halloween, the noise and lights of bonfire night bring our caveman origins to the fore: bathed in woodsmoke and the acrid smell of gunpowder, we draw closer to the flames and huddle together for warmth and light.
Mosses, lichens and intriguing fungi flourish in the damp woods, while for a fortnight or so the trees are draped in the glorious yellow, gold and russet hues that mark the most spectacular natural fireworks show of the year.
November is a month of remembrance too, of poppies and poppy-strewn memorials, of old soldiers and wreath-laying ceremonies, of sombre thoughts of past battles and lost loved ones.
LEST WE FORGET: November is a time of remembrance PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
It can be a bleak, damp time, and with darkness falling by teatime and a fine drizzle all too often washing the colour out of the landscape, it can be all too tempting for us to stay close to the fire.
Making the extra effort to dress up warm and shrug off the rain can bring its own rewards, though.
RICH PICKINGS: a blue tit feasting on berries PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
There’s wildlife aplenty flourishing among the trees, with birds feasting on berries and hedgehogs settling down for the winter to a backdrop of whistles from the red kites that have become synonymous with the Chilterns in recent years.
Once a common sight in the towns and cities of medieval Britain, the birds had become virtually extinct by the end of the 19th century after 200 years of human persecution.
PERFECT CAMOUFLAGE: a kite among autumn leaves PICTURE: Anne Rixon
These days the Chilterns is one of the best places in the UK to see the birds, thanks to a successful re-introduction project between 1989 and 1994 which now sees them soaring on the thermals across the region.
IN FULL FLIGHT: red kites are flourishing PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Not that they are the only birds of prey to be spotted on a November day. Owls and buzzards, kestrels and sparrowhawks can also make an appearance, squatting on a fencepost or swooping over the fields.
EAGLE EYED: a juvenile female sparrowhawk PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
We are blessed to live in an area of outstanding natural beauty which pretty much epitomises quintessential English countryside, with its sweeping chalk hills, quaint market towns, historic pubs and breathtaking views.
PICTURE POSTCARD: a quiet country lane PICTURE: Gel Murphy
The weathered brick walls of a pretty cottage down a quiet country lane reflect the final blaze of autumn colour before the icy blast of December arrives and the trees get stripped bare by fierce winds and driving rain.
CHEEKY FACE: the ubiquitous grey squirrel PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
The squirrels are stocking up too, their cheeky faces one of the most familiar wildlife sights in local woods.
STAR PERFORMER: the grey squirrel PICTURE: Carol Ann Finch
On bleaker days, it may be hard to find much to photograph among the drab, dripping branches, though more inventive souls are good at spotting those small shapes, shadows and textures that can still produce the perfect picture.
SMALL DETAILS: textures and shapes stand out PICTURE: Gel Murphy
For some, it’s the small details which catch the eye, from veins on leaves, unfamiliar fungi or seed cases strewn among the leaf litter.
OUT ON A LIMB: leaf patterns catch the light PICTURE: Ron Adams
Up in the Lake District they call the sullen no man’s land between autumn and winter “back End”, a lost “fifth season” of the year recalled by author and friend Alan Cleaver, better known as @thelonningsguy.
Writing in his blog back in 2013, Alan wrote: “It’s such a blindingly obvious fact to most Cumbrians that you really do wonder how the rest of the world copes with a mere four seasons.
SOFT EDGES: trees loom out of the mist PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
“It comes between autumn and winter when autumn’s lost its glory but winter is yet to bite.” It’s a perfect phrase for summing up the dank, drab atmosphere on some days in late November, when the light feels bleached and the undergrowth sodden.
CARPET OF LEAVES: walking the dog PICTURE: Gel Murphy
But not all days are like that – chilly glimpses of winter sunshine uncover the glories of the Chilterns landscape, from colourful fungi to foraging birdlife.
And even on days when the landscape starts feeling somewhat bleak and unwelcoming, it’s a time when our bird tables come alive with tiny visitors and crisper mornings reveal gloriously intricate spiders’ webs and colourful mosses carpeting old tree stumps.
Some less familiar faces may join the native birds feasting on the hawthorn, holly and juniper berries, while hedgehogs and badgers are seeking out comfortable spots for a wintry snooze – and there might even be a chance to catch sight of a stoat in its winter coat of ermine…a camouflage tactic that offers somewhat less protection now that our winters are becoming less and less snowy.
As November comes to a close, there may be a true icy blast to remind us that winter is just around the corner.
CHILLY OUTLOOK: looking out over Aylesbury Vale PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Chilly it may be, but our timeless Chilterns landscape has not lost all its colour yet, tempting us out in our scarves and mittens in the hope of hearing the whistle of a kite or hoot of an owl, watching the wildfowl squabbling at the local quarry or the bats coming out to hunt as darkness falls.
Evergreen trees and bushes provide an array of berries for native birds and migrants alike, while foxes are on the move, younger dog foxes and some vixens leaving their home territory to try to establish territories of their own.
Badgers too are are pulling moss, leaves and bracken into their underground setts where they spend so much time snoozing, while round in the gravel pit the wildfowl are squabbling and the migrants have arrived in force.
When the sun is low on the horizon, the rays pass through more air in the atmosphere than when the sun is higher in the sky, and there are more moisture and dust particles to scatter the light and produce those vivid red and orange hues we love so much.
GRAND FINALE: an evening display PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Some of the most dramatic sunsets occur when clouds catch the last red-orange rays of the setting sun or the first light of dawn and reflect the light back towards the ground.
MOONSHOT: our nearest astronomical neighbour PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
The skies offer plenty of other photographic opportunities too. And on a chilly November night in the heart of the woods, there’s nothing more atmospheric than a full moon casting a ghostly glow through the ancient branches.
Only an hour ago, the place was awash with autumn colour, the last afternoon rays of sunlight lighting up the russets and browns of the fallen leaves. Now, although it’s not late, there’s little stirring among the frost-tipped leaves. The dog walkers have long headed home and most creatures with any sense have burrowed down for the night.
LENGTHENING SHADOWS: in the woods near Latimer PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
The call of an owl pierces the cold night air and the occasional explosive flurry of a startled pigeon or muntjac is enough to get the heart beating a little faster, but for the most part these dark woods seem deserted.
That’s something of an illusion, of course. It may be quiet, but this is still a refuge for wildlife of which we often catch only tantalising glimpses.
How often have we spotted a weasel or dormouse, for example? The occasional rustle among the leaf litter reveals we are not alone, and the reassuring hoots of the owls are a reminder that food is plentiful if you know where to look for it.
CHANCE ENCOUNTER: otters have been spotted on the Thames PICTURE:Nick Bell
But although a fortunate wild swimmer might bump into an otter in the Thames, or spot a bank vole preening its whiskers, you have to get up with the lark or mooch silently around at dusk to stand a chance of catching a glimpse of our more elusive mammals.
On night walks like these, it’s easy to have a sense of time standing still: of past generations sharing the same sounds and emotions as they trudged along the local drovers’ roads and ridgeways on just such a wintry evening in a past century.
FAMILIAR ROAD: time stands still on old footpaths PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Chilterns woodlands reek of history – of charcoal burners and iron age forts, of lurking highwaymen and wartime military camps.
Amid this picture postcard landscape, Romans built their ancient roads out from London, stagecoaches swept past on their way to Oxford or Amersham, and displaced Polish families lived for years among the trees after the Second World War…
IF TREES COULD TALK: ancient boughs at Burnham Beeches PICTURE: Andrew Knight
If the trees could talk, they could tell countless tales of past generations, of royal parks and medieval manors, entrepreneurs and philanthropists, poachers and politicians.
SPLASH OF COLOUR: autumn puddles PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
Speaking of one of her November rambles a couple of years ago, Melissa Harrison writes in The Stubborn Light Of Things: “Dusk is my favourite time to go out walking. As the light fades, the night shift clocks on: rabbits come our to feed, owls call from the copses and spinneys, and foxes, deer and bats begin hunting as darkness falls…”
GO WITH THE FLOW: the Thames at at Cliveden PICTURE: Siddharth Upadhya
She goes on: “But there’s another reason I love to be out of doors at day’s end. Here in Suffolk traces of the past are everywhere, from horse ponds glinting like mercury among the stubble fields to labourers’ cottages like mine with woodsmoke curling from brick chimneys hundreds of years old.
WHO GOES THERE?: a fallow deer buck PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
“In the half-light of dusk, the old lanes empty of traffic, it’s possible to leave behind the present day with its frightening uncertainties and enter a world in which heavy horses worked the land, the seasons turned with comforting regularity and climate change was unheard of.”
Here in the Chilterns too, the buried flints and pots beneath our feet remind us that this landscape has been home to people like us for thousands of years: we can smell the woodsmoke rising from ancient chimneys, watch the silvery Thames slicing through the fields and feel just a little more connected with the natural world around us.
AT THE CROSSROADS: a signpost at Ley Hill PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
If you’d like to contribute to our “calendar” articles, contact us by email at editor@thebeyonder.co.uk or come and join us on our Facebook group page.
As always, a huge thank you to all the local photographers who have allowed us to use their work this month: click on their pictures to find out more about our regular contributors.
WHAT a difference a month makes. Our picture choice this week takes us back to the end of October, when Olivia turned one of her original artworks into a greetings card for our online shop.
The colourful portrait went on to become the face of her Etsy shop too.
At the time, we mentioned how she had been dreaming of adding a real dog to our Beyonder family for years, checking on rescue sites and Facebook groups on a daily basis but never quite finding the perfect four-legged friend.
In the meantime, drawing dogs would have to suffice, and another fun portrait of an Afghan hound was added to the collection.
But that was before we heard about Teddy, a not-so-small energetic bundle of fun in the shape of a gorgeous four-month-old black labrador, living only half-an-hour away.
NEW ARRIVAL: Teddy the labrador
The rest, as they say, is history: though despite all the years of research, the practical reality of becoming first-time labrador owners will doubtless pose plenty of challenges.
Yes, we know about the chewing, the love of fox poo, the desire to jump up, the leash-pulling, the need to lead an active life (but not too active before those bones and joints have fully developed).
But I’m sorry, I can’t stay here chatting: there’s important puppy business to attend to in the park….
WHAT could sum up the spirit of November better than Gel Murphy’s spectacular shot of changing leaf colours in Finch Lane, Amersham?
MORNING GLORY: autumnal colours in Amersham PICTURE: Gel Murphy
It’s a fantastic foretaste of the November highlights coming soon in our monthly calendar feature, as well as a reflection of the talents of those local photographers like Gel who are out and about in all weathers capturing the beauty of the Chilterns landscape.
This is the month of woodsmoke and fireworks, first frosts and misty mornings, as nature puts on its own glorious fireworks display before the trees get stripped bare for winter, and we can’t wait to sort out a selection of your atmospheric pictures summing up the month in all its technicolour glory…
IT’S 6am and the park, unsurprisingly, is deserted.
It’s bitterly cold, with frost on the grass and steam rising from the river. But a small black shadow beside me is snuffling along quite contentedly, eager to discover just who’s wandered this way before.
It’s a route we’ve already explored a lot, in all kinds of weather conditions and at all times of day and night, but it takes a crisp, sunny morning before we’re actually able to photograph the lively, excited ball at our feet.
NEW ARRIVAL: Teddy the black lab
Meet Teddy, a four-month-old black labrador who has already seen a lot of upheaval in his young life, but who arrived a few days ago to join our small family.
For us, it’s the culmination of two years of searching and researching, of considering different breeds, of watching training videos, speaking to breeders and reading puppy books. And now he’s actually here, our world’s been turned upside down overnight.
FRESH START: Teddy arrives in the Chilterns
For Teddy, the change is probably just as dramatic. The fact he has already seen a couple of other households since leaving his mum and siblings is no fault of his own, but down to unfortunate changes in personal circumstances affecting the humans in his life.
As we research his birth, vaccinations and back story, we meet a succession of people who are full of praise for our four-legged arrival. The only black lab in a litter of 11, he’s learned some basic commands, is good with children and seems lively and intelligent.
WINNING WAYS: Teddy knows how to make friends
He’s also teething, curious and boisterous in the way that black labs are. Already he’s won our hearts and he is trying SO hard to please – but we know it’s going to be a steep learning curve for us all.
The vet’s pronounced him fit and healthy and friends and family have been helpful with their top tips and sound advice.
MOMENT OF PEACE: learning how to chill out
But however many books you read, first-time owners are never fully equipped to know how to tackle every new challenge that arises – or how to cope with the sudden and overwhelming imposition on your daily routine (and interruptions to your sleep patterns!).
Not-so-tiny Teddy weighs more than 13kg and has big paws and a healthy appetite. He’s had three names and this is his fourth home in as many months, so it’s not surprising if he has found life a little confusing up to now. Mercifully, he seems relatively unfazed: biddable, eager and affectionate, he wins friends easily.
LIVEWIRE: puppies are eager for attention
Best of all, everyone is happy to help. From neighbours and family members with multiple dogs to kindly shop assistants and strangers in the park, there’s a lot of expertise to draw on.
Everyone makes it look so easy, with their polite and respectful packs trotting so neatly around them and responding with alacrity to clickers, calls and whistles. But re-reading old friend and colleague Lucy Parks’ experiences with her rescue dog Yella has been useful too, and a timely reminder of the rollercoaster journey that lies ahead.
Back in the park on our 6am foray I belatedly remember that it’s my birthday. Now in my mid-60s, I’ve only owned cats in the past and despite all the videos still feel I know little about how to train Teddy to become the trusted, loving, loyal and obedient adult companion I know he can be.
But I also know just how many lessons dogs can teach to us humans too, not least about mindfulness, zest for life, grattitude and unconditional love.
BEST BEHAVIOUR: perfecting the sit command
“Dogs are our link to paradise,” said author Milan Kundera. Or as author Orhan Pamuk put it: “Dogs do speak, but only to those who know how to listen.”
It looks as if we all have a lot of learn. And as those affectionate eyes look up at me and we start heading homewards to the warmth and breakfast, I’m determined not to let the little fellow down. Here’s hoping he really can help to teach an old dog new tricks.
WE DON’T normally like to blow our trumpets here at The Beyonder, but this week’s picture choice is the latest original artwork that my lovely wife Olivia has been able to turn into a greetings card for our online shop.
It’s a suitably autumnal portrait of a rather gorgeous fox who looks as if he’s stepped out of a fairytale, and it’s the seventh piece of art Ollie has been able to transform into a smart greetings card with the help of Tom Allnutt at Amersham Business Services.
Other portraits include a couple of inquisitive badgers, a duck, teddy bear and a pair of endearing dogs, much of the artwork notable for its vibrant colours and celebration of the natural world.
The cards are also for sale on Ollie’s new Etsy shop, where she explains how she has only recently rediscovered her love of painting while struggling to recover from Long Covid.
“It has been such a tonic for me to be able to paint peacefully and prayerfully for just a few minutes each day,” she says. “I have found the process of working with colour to be very restorative and restful as well as uplifting.”
She adds: “I haven’t been able to get out and about in the natural world as much as I would like recently, so escaping into nature via paintbrush and canvas has lifted my spirits.”
Her cards are also stocked in a small number of select local outlets, including Bella Luce in Watlington and The Good Earth Gallery in Chesham.
IT’S a joy to be relaunching our Picture of the Week feature after an extended break, and to kickstart the new series we have a delicate portrait of a saffrondrop bonnet mushroom taken by regular contributor Graham Parkinson.
MUSHROOM MAGIC: a saffrondrop bonnet PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
It’s one of a series of recent fungi photographs he’s posted on local nature and wildlife forums, some of which featured in our October calendar feature about the Chilterns.
Inspired with a love of wildlife as a child, Graham found that lockdown in 2020 proved the perfect opportunity for him to explore his longstanding interest in photography, and in the past three years his pictures have proved a big hit with nature lovers.
SPREADING SPORES: common puffballs PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
Birds and insects feature prominently, but his great pleasure has been embarking on seven- to 10-mile walks exploring new areas around his Marlow home and capturing what he can of the local flora and fauna.
Using his Ordnance Survey OS Maps app to plan new routes, his journeys have taken him from local favourites like Homefield Wood and Quarry Wood to Bisham, Burnham Beeches and beyond, from the banks of the Thames to the many walks between Ibstone and Christmas Common.
MINIATURE MARVELS: clustered bonnets PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
“It’s been extremely rewarding, capturing wildlife I’ve never seen before,” he says. For a long time he didn’t bother with fungi, lacking a good lens that would enable him to take “interesting” shots.
“I’ve now got a macro lens and From a photography point of view what has interested and challenged me is trying to create a lovely photo of them rather than just a record shot,” he says.
PURPLE HUE: an amethyst deceiver PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
“They’re fascinating organisms, really quite beautiful. It’s sort of like landscape photography in miniature.
“I was out again yesterday in beautiful woods and sunlight. It’s quite magical walking through the woods trying to first find fungi and then find ones where I can make a nice shot.
“An added bonus is that there’s always something else to see. Yesterday I watched two bats hunting all around me, in bright sunshine at 1pm.”
IT’S the month of first frosts and stormy nights when the sights, smells and sounds of autumn really bring the countryside to life.
GLORIOUS TEXTURES: fallen leaves and fungi PICTURE: Andrew Knight
The rapidly-changing colours and glorious textures of October make it a favourite with photographers, especially deep in the woods where the yellow, green and russet hues contrast so beautifully with the rugged outlines of ancient trees.
Amid all the leaf mulch, autumn is also one of the best times to head out foraging, with woods and hedgerows filled with a feast of delights from hazelnuts and rosehips to blackberries, sweet chestnuts and crab apples.
LEAF MAGIC: striking outlines at Penn PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
It’s a month of ripe berries and falling fruit, with trees and bushes bursting with tasty treats for birds, insects and mammals alike and a huge array of startling fungi hiding beneath the fallen leaves.
FIERY FLAME: the yellow stagshorn PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
From the foul-smelling stinkhorns to poisonous toadstools, it’s thought there are more than six million species of fungi in the world, and we’re only really beginning to fully appreciate what an impact they have on our lives.
MUSHROOM MAGIC: fungi come in all colours PICTURE: Ken Law
They can change our minds, heal our bodies and even help us to avoid environmental disaster, as Merlin Sheldrake showed us in his fascinating 2020 book Entangled Life.
DELICATE OUTLINE: a saffrondrop bonnet PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
But although we may have only formally identified around 150,000 of the millions of fungi out there, they are a source of fascination for photographers and nature lovers alike.
FASCINATING: texture contrasts at Hughenden PICTURE: Ken Law
The colours and shapes fascinate us, even though we know their beauty can be deceptive and that there could be deadly consequences of dabbling with the most poisonous of them.
SUBTLE TONES: an amethyst deceiver PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
They vary in size from the microscopic to the largest organisms on earth and boast the most intriguing array of sinister-sounding names, from gelatinous jelly ears to toxic beechwood sickeners.
SPINY OUTLINE: a puffball in Bisham Woods PICTURE: Graham Parkinson
If you can’t tell a tasty morsel from a destroying angel, funeral bell or death cap, it’s perhaps best to give those colourful mushrooms and toadstools a wide berth.
TOXIC TOADSTOOL: fly agarics in Penn Wood PICTURE: Andrew Knight
Widely regarded as magical and equally frequently mistrusted, toadstools and mushrooms are associated with ancient taboos, dung, death and decomposition.
PEACEFUL SPOT: mushrooms at Penn PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
But as the Woodland Trust explains, trees and many other species rely on fungi and we’re only just starting to fully understand how close this relationship is: great woodland networks that link and support life.
VITAL RELATIONSHIP: fungi play a crucial role PICTURE: Gel Murphy
As Gillian Burke explained in a previous Autumnwatch series: “90 per cent of our plants are utterly reliant on fungi for survival. By breaking down dead wood, cleaning the soil and recycling nutrients by the most intimate relationship with living plants, fungi are vital to life on Earth.”
SUPPORT NETWORK: many species rely on fungi PICTURE: Gel Murphy
At this time of year, those forest floors and woodland glades are full of colourful and intriguing characters, from puffballs and stinkhorns to earthstars and jelly fungi – and while many of them could be poisonous for us to touch and eat, it’s fascinating just how important they may be for our survival.
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IT’S the sort of fantasy guaranteed to delight weary walkers at the end of a long day on the trail…
What if you could find a cosy cottage just yards from the footpath with a comfy king-size bed, luxurious bed linen and a power shower complete with Bluetooth music and steam jets? Ah, bliss.
ALL-SINGING: the shower at Hedgerow Cottage
Throw in a freshly baked Victoria sponge and ice-cold home-made apple juice, and that’s the reassuring reality of a stay at Hedgerow Cottage, a glorious hideaway in the shadow of the ancient Ridgeway at Wainhill on the Buckinghamshire-Oxfordshire border.
JOURNEY’S END: a comfy bed and luxurious linen
Owners Katrina Rowton-Lee and husband Charlie invited us to spend a couple of days sampling their dog-friendly hideaway after spotting a recent Beyonder post about four-legged friends.
With three dogs of their own and such an impressive location in the heart of the Chilterns countryside, they’re keen to share the spot with walking enthusiasts who have a canine companion in tow and who want to spend a few days exploring the many local attractions.
HOME COOKING: the kitchen at Hedgerow
As idyllic country retreats go, Hedgerow takes some beating. It’s spotless, stylish and cosy, a purpose-built luxury cabin with wood-lined rooms decorated in rural chic style and its own kitchen, shower room and separate bedroom off the living room, complete with private garden area and parking.
BREAKFAST AL FRESCO: the view towards the ridge
It’s discreetly hidden to one side of the 17th-century thatched cottage that is Katrina and Charlie’s home, giving guests an open outlook over their own section of garden.
BELOW THE RIDGE: the Ridgeway is an ancient route
Nestled below the treeline, Wainhill comprises 20 acres of meadow and pasture which house friendly Herdwick sheep, a number of horses and an eclectic collection of classic caravans and other vintage vehicles Katrina hires out for for TV, filming, photoshoots and corporate events.
RETRO COLLECTION: one of Katrina’s caravans
One of those intriguing vehicles is Alice, Katrina’s original 1955 English Eccles caravan, which has been lovingly restored and provides Hedgerow guests with a lovely space to enjoy during the summer months, just by their front door.
TRUE ORIGINAL: Alice dates from 1955
It’s a glorious spot and perfect for trips to places like Oxford, Henley and Marlow, visiting local vineyards or exploring the Midsomer Murders trail.
Take a weekend wander along the footpath to Chinnor and you could be treated to the sight of a steam engine tootling along a restored section of the old Watlington branch line from Princes Risborough which originally closed to passengers back in 1957.
Head off in the other direction towards the treeline, and you’ll quickly discover the Ridgeway national trail, a route used since prehistoric times by travellers, herdsmen and soldiers.
ANCENT TRACK: walkers have traversed the ridge for centuries
The 87-mile national trail follows a ridge of chalk hills from Avebury in Wiltshire to Ivinghoe Beacon and from your bed at Hedgerow the ancient track is about a quarter of a mile away.
WARM WELCOME: Katrina Rowton-Lee
For those wanting to tackle a longer section of the route, it’s an indication of Katrina’s “nothing is too much trouble” approach that she will cheerfully drive walkers to a suitable starting point from which they can walk back to Wainhill, allowing them to use the Hedgerow as a central point for a few days of exploring.
TOURING BASE: routes fan out in all directions
Routes fan out from here in all directions, criss-crossing the Chilterns AONB and allowing walkers access to miles of unspoilt countryside, so often overlooked by tourists in favour of the Cotswolds.
Visitors with pets even get home-made dog biscuits and their furry friends may get the chance to rub noses with the resident pack: Tilly the yellow labrador and a pair of teckels, or working dachshunds.
FURRY FRIENDS: Wainhill is a dog-friendly destination
We saunter out of the back gate for a quick circuit up to the Ridgeway, and quickly discover it’s an immensely restful landscape and a welcome escape from city hubbub.
True, there’s a light drizzle on the weekend we visit, but it does nothing to dampen our spirits on a first brief foray up to the ridge and back, pausing only to greet the occasional dog walker or runner showing a similar disregard for the elements.
SEAT IN THE SUN: Hedgerow is ideal for walkers
But even over such a rainy October weekend it’s not long before the sun’s out for long enough to show just how relaxing the garden must be in the summer months, far away from the sound of speeding traffic or aircraft noise.
Later, as dusk falls, with only the hooting of the owls to disturb the clear evening air it’s clear we will have no problem getting a great night’s sleep in our cosy wood-lined bedroom.
SMALL TOUCHES: cake and flowers
With no light pollution, it’s also a spectacular place for stargazing, and as the clouds clear we wander outside for a little to marvel as the heavens stage a dazzling display of planets and constellations.
It’s a fitting finale to a restful stay in a lovely location where those little touches like the fresh flowers and phenomenal Victoria sponge have made all the difference, as the comments in the guest book reflect.
Accommodation is available year round – check out the Wainhill website for details and prices.
THEY’RE our most faithful and trusted companions, and they’ve been close by our side for centuries.
Now we want to hear from dog lovers across the Chilterns about what makes your pets so very special.
GOOD COMPANY: Ted among the bluebells PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Our recent feature reflects how dogs have won our love and admiration for their skills, intelligence and character, and we know that thousands of nature lovers rely on the companionship of their canine chums when they set out to explore the countryside.
FURRY FRIEND: dogs win our love and admiration PICTURE: Olivia Knight
Do you have a favourite place to walk or memory to share? Is your pet a pedigree champion or a scruffy rescue dog? It doesn’t matter — we’d love to feature your pictures and stories in our regular ‘dogsofthechilterns’ feature and social media feeds.
You don’t have to give away personal information or precise locations, but send us landscape-shaped pictures of your dog along with any details you’re happy for us to share — and remember to tell us who in the family took the picture.
With more than 200 breeds to choose from, Britain really is a national of dog lovers, and we’d like to celebrate the best aspects of responsible dog ownership on our pages.
As well as sharing your shots on our Twitter and Instagram feeds, we’re keen to hear your own stories about the impact and importance of four-legged friends in your life.
Your pictures should comply with the guidelines of The Kennel Club’s Canine Code and pleasure ensure you own the copyright to any picture you submit.
Contact us by email at editor@thebeyonder.co.uk or our social media links — we look forward to hearing from you.
ROUND our way it sometimes seems as if everyone has a dog.
Little and large, fluffy and hectic or aloof and unflustered, they come in all shapes and sizes, from purebred aristocrats with a proud pedigree to scruffy scoundrels rescued from the streets.
BEST FOOT FORWARD: loyal companions PICTURE: Lucy Parks
But whatever their size, breed and provenance, we love them just as they are, taking them into our hearts and our families in their millions as part of an extraordinary symbiotic relationship where it can be hard to tell who needs the other more.
Dogs and people have lived together for thousands of years, and we have bred different breeds to hunt and to guard us, to herd sheep, retrieve game and just keep us company.
Domestic dogs may share 99% of their DNA with wolves, but they are social pack animals which thrive on attention and affection, helping them to win our love and admiration for their skills, intelligence and character.
FURRY FRIEND: dogs win our love and admiration PICTURE: Olivia Knight
They may need us to survive but it seems that we need them just as much: our most loyal and faithful companions cock a listening ear to our worries, give us a paw to hold and an unconditional love that sometimes borders on obsession.
Mind you, it’s an obsession that is mutual. Britain boasts a canine population of more than nine million, with more than 200 breeds to choose from.
Joyce Campbell, the Armadale farmer whose squad of collies were a hit with viewers of This Farming Life, said: “We really are a nation of dog lovers – my team of dogs have also been inundated with fan mail. We have genuinely all been blown away with everyone’s kindness.”
FAN MAIL: the dogs from This Farming Life PICTURE: Joyce Campbell
That’s why we’re setting out to meet some of the best-loved dogs in the Chilterns, and asking you to send us your pictures of them out and about enjoying our wonderful countryside.
As well as sharing your shots on our Twitter and Instagram feeds, we’re keen to hear your own stories about the impact and importance of four-legged friends in your life.
Most dog owners will tell you that their dog is a family member – and for many, dog ownership has proved a life-changing experience.
CHILTERN ADVENTURES: rescue dog Yella PICTURE: Lucy Parks
Lucy Parks has written in detail about her adventures with Cypriot rescue dog Yella as the four-legged arrival adjusted to a new life in the Chiltern Hills.
“She was my first ever dog, although I’d wanted one for ever,” says Lucy. “I finally got her aged 50 and she’s totally changed my life!
“Yella has got me out into the local countryside exploring new places and has introduced me to the dog-owning community in Amersham. I’ve got new friends as a result, as has Yella, and we know far more about the area we live in.”
FRESH PERSPECTIVE: Yella explores her new home PICTURE: Lucy Parks
From beagles to greyhounds, lapdogs to St Bernards, each breed has its own ardent fans, and although dog attacks have contributed to some chilling headlines in recent weeks, millions of responsible owners know how crucial it is to spend time training their pet to ensure that wagging tails and stress-free greetings help to put strangers at their ease.
The rewards are huge. No animal can surpass dogs for their devotion and intelligence, and it’s that unwavering loyalty and pure delight in our company that wins us over so readily. We know that our furry companions accept us for who we are, flaws and all, without reserve or judgement.
For Beyonder photographer Sue Craigs Erwin, energetic sprocker spaniel Ted has been at her side for the past six years.
BEST OF FRIENDS: Sue and Ted at Coombe Hill PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
“He has given me a reason to go out walking again after losing my husband six years ago,” she says. “I have become more aware of our beautiful surroundings. I always take my camera with me, capturing the day’s walk and sharing the beauty of the wildlife and changing seasons with my Facebook friends.
“We have recently made friends with a beautiful little robin in the woods. Ted now runs ahead of me and searches him out before I get there. I can’t resist a few shots of the friendly little chap everyday.
“It’s so therapeutic to be walking in the fresh air whatever the weather. Dogs are just the best company.”
GOOD COMPANY: Ted among the bluebells PICTURE: Sue Craigs Erwin
Sue isn’t alone in appreciating Ted’s constant companionship. In a fast-paced world where human connections sometimes feel fleeting or even confrontational, dogs offer us vital emotional support, helping to reduce stress, anxiety and loneliness.
Says Jennifer Wynn, proud owner of a Great Swiss mountain dog: “Fearne is more than just a companion for exploring the beautiful Chilterns.
“She’s a friend for both of my teenage children, one of whom is autistic and the other is awaiting assessment. She listens without judging, loves no matter what and gives 50kg cuddles!”
Dogs have been our friends and protectors for centuries, and although they have transitioned from being primarily working animals to cherished family members, today they perhaps bring more joy and comfort than ever.
BIG HUGS: Great Swiss mountain dog Fearne PICTURE: Jennifer Wynn
They teach us responsibility and help youngsters learn the importance of kindness, while formidable sheepdogs and astonishing therapy dogs startle us with their skill, sensitivity and ability to perform complex tasks.
Of course, the individual breed we favour will vary according to our own preferences and lifestyles. Do we want a snuggly cockapoo happy to flop around the house like a supersoft chenille throw, or a livewire collie who’s panting to head for the hills every morning?
Do we need a miniature dachsund getting under our feet or an Irish wolfhound or Great Swiss mountain dog edging our guests off the sofa?
SITTING PRETTY: Fearne at home PICTURE: Jennifer Wynn
It’s all very personal, as author Patrick Gale writes in The Returns Home, a chapter of Duncan Minshull’s 2022 collection of walking stories, Where My Feet Fall.
“Hounds are not emotionally needy dogs when walking; whippets and greyhounds have none of the collie’s need for constant affirmative interaction with its human but seem quite content to trot independently from smell to fascinating smell, occasionally breaking off to send up a pheasant or make a show of chasing a rabbit. They enjoy walks hugely but they’re not forever nudging you to say, ‘I’m enjoying my walk. I am. Are you? Are you enjoying yours? Are you really?'”
LIVEWIRE: COAM sheepdog Bang PICTURE: Chiltern Open Air Museum
Whatever our personal choice of companion, those rambles allow us to come across a dozen other breeds, making new friends along the way, from doe-eyed whippets and gentle golden retrievers to inquisitive terriers or rumbustious young labradors.
Back in the Middle Ages, European nobles had close relationships with their dogs. Ladies doted on their fashionable lap dogs and noblemen went hunting with hounds — a practice that grew so popular that breeding hunting dogs became a trend throughout Europe.
By the Victorian era, dogs had wormed their way into the heart of family life and Britain had become a centre for dog breeding, with the first formal competitive dog shows held in the middle of the 19th century.
BEST BEHAVIOUR: TV dog trainer Graeme Hall PICTURE: Channel 4
Canines played such vital roles in military operations during the two World Wars that they steadily gained increasing recognition of their intelligence and abilities throughout the 20th century, with films depicting the adventures of Lassie and Rin Tin Tin capturing the hearts of millions in the 1950s.
The Queen’s fondness for corgis helped to popularise the breed, while on the small screen Blue Peter presenter John Noakes became so inseparable from his excitable border collie that “Get down, Shep!” became a catchphrase so well known that it was even immortalised in song by The Barron Knights when the pair left the show in 1978.
INSEPARABLE: John Noakes and Shep PICTURE: BBC
These days dogs have become a much more familiar presence on TV and social media, with the Crufts dog show attracting an unbelievable 18,000 competitors and almost nightly programmes highlighting different aspects of canine behaviour and welfare, from sheepdog trials to different training techniques.
Of course, the difficult down side of our love affair with dogs is the pain we feel at losing them.
Countless online commentators attest to the fact that the death of a beloved pet is excruciating. With their shorter lifespans, it’s also unfortunately an inevitability, made all the more intense by their unconditional love and constant presence by our side.
Shepherdess Alison O’Neill has won a Twitter following of almost 50,000 for her glorious photographs and homely posts from her small hill farm in the Yorkshire Dales, where sheepdog Shadow is a star attraction.
“Dogs are the best,” she says. “But yes, I’ve known the loss of a dog. It’s no different than any family member passing.”
Coping when they are suddenly not there at our side can be devastating. But then perhaps that works both ways.
Many dog trainers and behaviourists believe that dogs feel grief too, being highly intuitive and sensitive animals — perhaps much more than people give them credit for.
It may not quite be on the scale of devotion demonstrated by the apocryphal Greyfriars Bobby in Edinburgh, but artist Sir Edwin Landseer summed up the sense of loss memorably in his 1837 oil painting, The Old Shepherd’s Chief Mourner.
SENSE OF LOSS: Landseer’s 1837 portrait PICTURE: Victoria & Albert Museum
In a sparsely furnished room, a moping dog rests its head on the coffin of its master, the shepherd, whose staff and hat lie underneath a table supporting a closed bible.
The pathos of the scene made it popular with both collectors and the Victorian public in general, but it’s a striking representation of loss, described by the influential art critic John Ruskin as one of the “most perfect poems…which modern times have seen”.
Sentimental it may have been, but the painting also became an important part of animal advocacy campaigns in the 19th century, a reminder of the shared experiences and strong emotional bonds that can exist between human and non-human animals, and few 21st-century dog lovers would argue with the importance of that message.
We’d love to share your pictures and stories about your own dogs enjoying our wonderful Chilterns countryside. Contact us by email or our social media links — you don’t have to include personal details or precise locations, but we’d love to hear from you about the four-legged friends in your life.
WALKING is one of the simplest forms of physical exercise there is — but for TV presenter Julia Bradbury, it’s so much more than that.
“It improves sleep, lowers anxiety, boosts brain power and even lengthens life,” she wrote in the Mail recently. “I used it to help me through the breast cancer that upended my life three years ago, as well as IVF and miscarriages, grief and mental health issues.”
PASSION FOR NATURE: Julia Bradbury PICTURE: David Venni
Perhaps it’s no surprise that Julia should take pride in being an enthusiastic evangelist for nature. Born in Dublin, she grew up in Sheffield and was introduced to walking and the power of the great outdoors by her father, Michael.
He would take her roaming across the Peak District, igniting a lifelong passion that has underpinned her career in television and more recently has grown into something of an obsession with the healing power of walking to strengthen the body and soothe the mind.
After starting her on-screen career as a showbusiness reporter for breakfast TV in Los Angeles, she came home to help launch Channel 5 in the UK and has fronted shows like Top Gear and Watchdog.
But it was as a member of the Countryfile presenting team with Matt Baker that she became nationally recognised when the relaunched series became a ratings hit, before she moved on to host a succession of shows about walking, from Cornwall and Devon to the Lake District and beyond.
FREEDOM TO ROAM: exploring the peaks PICTURE: Julia Bradbury
But while her love of walking has taken her to the furthest corners of the world over the past three decades, she says she still cherishes her little London garden and the old plane tree outside her bathroom window.
“You don’t need big landscapes or seat-of-the-pants travel adventures to benefit from ‘green therapy’,” she says.
And it’s healthy living and the virtues of nature therapy which have featured a lot in her thoughts in recent years, when she has spoken of her struggle to overcome infertility and failed IVF treatments, and of her rollercoaster emotions faced with her diagnosis and treatment for breast cancer.
She recalls how hiking in Iceland, faced with a huge vista of mountains, icy streams and steaming hillsides, made her IVF problems seem more manageable and reflects that you don’t need such dramatic views to overcome anxious thoughts: “A single tree, the sound of birdsong, a scented rose — all of these can calm us,” she says.
It may take as little as half an hour of walking in nature for our stress hormones to start dropping, and every step can contribute to our feeling of wellbeing if we take the time to savour the feel of the ground beneath our feet, the rustle of the leaves and fragrance of the plants around us.
Part memoir and part self-help guide, her latest book, Walk Yourself Happy, incorporates science-backed research, practical tips and her own experiences to examine how nature can soothe anxiety and stress, helping us to cope with grief, illness and the pressures of everyday life.
Can a mountain or tree keep us company in times of loss? The science certainly suggests that building nature into our everyday lives can help us eat, sleep and function better, and walking is one of the easiest and quickest ways for most of us to immerse ourselves in the natural world.
Past generations may have taken such bonds for granted, but as Chris Packham reminded us in Back To Nature, those connections have unravelled in parallel with our technological progress in the industrial and social revolutions of the 19th and 20th centuries.
“We live in sterile modern homes, where we can’t see, hear, taste or touch it, and we drive through it in our air-conditioned cars, disconnected from it,” wrote Packham.
Julia picks up the theme in her book too, encouraging us to rekindle those ancient bonds with nature that have been all but extinguished by modern living, which in turn can encourage closer camaraderie with friends and more intimate knowledge and awareness of self.
OPEN OUTLOOK: walks can lift our spirits PICTURE: Julia Bradbury
“No matter what challenges you face, I promise there is a walk to lift your mood, even if it’s just around your local park,” she says.
It was three years after her Iceland trip that she conceived her son naturally at the age of 41, but there was still a miscarriage and four years of IVF treatment to undergo before her twin daughters arrived.
Flash forward to 2021 and a shock breast cancer diagnosis posed another emotional and physical challenge, suffusing Julia in a sudden flush of grief, not least for “that naive belief that I was invincible and everything would always be all right”.
EMOTIONAL JOURNEY: coping with cancer PICTURE: Julia Bradbury
She thought of her three young children and her eyes filled with tears. Would she live to see them grow up? And later, after her mastectomy, there was a different trauma to cope with, faced with the physical and emotional damage of the angry scarring.
But she is unequivocal about the long-term impact of the experience.
“Cancer saved my life,” she writes. “That may seem a strange thing to say, but it opened my eyes to what I was doing to myself. Before diagnosis, everything I did was at breakneck speed. I wanted it all, and pushed myself emotionally and physically to reach impossible goals.”
It’s a problem most of us can relate to, where the days, weeks and months slip by and we are distracted by false priorities.
Her book chronicles her own journey of recovery but also explores the psychological and scientific reasons for our encounters with nature being of such enormous benefit: why the sound of birdsong, feel of morning sunshine on our faces and smell of the earth can be so powerfully curative and uplifting.
Nature offers a perfect model of resilience and regeneration, she points out, however hostile the environment.
“What the past couple of years have taught me is that since you are a finite person in a world with almost infinite choices and possibilities, you’d be wise to prioritise those choices that serve your health and make you happy. For me that is walking in nature.”
Walk Yourself Happy takes up Julia’s personal journey but opens out to examine the elemental link between our own physical and mental health and the natural world.
ONLINE RESOURCE: The Outdoor Guide PICTURE: Julia Bradbury
It’s more than a decade since she and her sister Gina co-founded an outdoors website designed to share free resources about some of the best walking routes in the UK, including links to many of Julia’s TV programmes.
Nowadays the importance of spreading the word about the health benefits of nature has become not just an integral part of her own life but a true “passion project”.
Since then the pair have worked with disabled ambassador Debbie North, a keen hill walker before she became a wheelchair user, to help create a network of wheel-friendly walks for people with poor or no mobility, and launched a charitable scheme, The Outdoor Guide Foundation, which raises funds to allow schools to get pupils outdoors in all weathers.
Once recovered from her mastectomy, Julia recalls taking a hike up Mam Tor in the Peak District with her whole family.
“It’s where I started walking as a child, and one of the most special places in the world to me,” she recalls.
Standing at the top, holding hands in the sunshine and shouting down into the valley, she found tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Climbing Mam Tor with the people I love most in the world felt like a profound restatement of faith in my future,” she says. “I needed to do it, not just to give thanks, but to overwrite the despair and desolation that cancer had brought into my life.”
Walk Yourself Happy by Julia Bradbury is published by Piatkus at £20.
TV PRESENTER Julia Bradbury is making tracks for the Chilterns next week to promote her new book about the health benefits of walking.
The broadcaster’s lifelong passion for the outdoors has been reflected throughout her career, from her years as co-host of BBC1’s Countryfile to the wide range of walking programmes she has fronted.
LIFELONG PASSION: Julia heads for the hills PICTURE: Julia Bradbury
More recently, in the wake of her breast cancer diagnosis and surgery, she has increasingly been dedicating her time to promote the benefits of healthy living and the virtues of nature therapy.
Her latest book, Walk Yourself Happy, focuses on both mental and physical wellbeing, and reflects her first-hand experience of the profound impact of nature.
As part of a promotional tour in the wake of the book’s launch on September 14, Julia has been speaking at bookshops and literary festivals from Lancashire to the West Country and arrives in Berkshire next week.
ON TOUR: Julia visits Chorleywood on October 9 PICTURE: David Venni
Part memoir and part self-help guide, the book incorporates science-backed research, practical tips and Julia’s own experiences to explore how nature can soothe anxiety and stress, helping us to cope with grief, illness and the pressures of everyday life.
Can connecting more with nature actually make us healthier? And can something as simple as going for a walk really improve our lives?
Julia believes she knows the answer and enlists the help of experts to help convince us of the science behind the importance to us of morning light or the psychological benefits of connecting with our ancestral roots.
For Julia the importance of spreading the word about the health benefits of nature has become not just an integral part of her own life but a true “passion project”.
She and her sister Gina co-founded an outdoors website more than a decade ago designed to share free resources about some of the best walking routes in the UK, including links to many of Julia’s TV programmes.
ONLINE RESOURCE: The Outdoor Guide PICTURE: Julia Bradbury
Since then the pair have worked with disabled ambassador Debbie North, a keen hill walker before she became a wheelchair user, to help create a network of wheel-friendly walks for people with poor or no mobility, and launched a charitable scheme, The Outdoor Guide Foundation, which raises funds to allow schools to get pupils outdoors in all weathers.
Writing recently in the Mail, Julia said: “What the past couple of years have taught me is that since you are a finite person in a world with almost infinite choices and possibilities, you’d be wise to prioritise those choices that serve your health and make you happy.
“For me that is walking in nature.”
Walk Yourself Happy by Julia Bradbury is published by Piatkus at £20. Tickets for her talk in Chorleywood Memorial Hall cost £12 from Chorleywood and Gerrards Cross bookshops or online.
A quick trip round the M25 and we’re visiting an extraordinary edifice in a “royal” forest, which is why our thoughts are flashing back across the centuries to a time when hunting was something of an obsession for the monarchs of the day.
The building dates from Tudor times but reflects the importance of hunting over the previous 200 years – and not just for those in power.
POPULAR PURSUIT: hunting was important in medieval society
We’ve come to Epping Forest, but although it’s only an hour from home, this is one of only a handful of ancient royal forests which survive around the UK – along with the Forest of Dean, New Forest and Sherwood.
Here, as we discovered in the Forest of Dean last year, is a lost world of forest laws and practices dating back to a time when “kingswoods” that came directly under the king’s control were vast tracts of land covering a third of southern England, including whole counties like Essex.
Following his victory at the Battle of Hastings, King William placed a score of areas under forest law, a Norman institution imported from the continent that was unanimously unpopular with the local population.
FOREST COURT: the Speech House Hotel in the Forest of Dean
It was a separate legal system with its own courts and officers designed to protect and preserve the “venison and vert” for the King’s pleasure – with severe punishments for poaching and taking wood from the forest.
You might think those early monarchs were too busy waging war on France and Scotland to spend so much time in pursuit of deer and boar, but hunting was a favourite pastime for the king and his nobles, offering sport, exercise, entertainment and a chance to practise skills that could be of use in wartime.
By the 14th century there were dozens of royal forests across the land where the ruling class could pursue their sport, whether hunting on horseback with hounds, shooting driven game from stands or using birds of prey such as hawks and falcons.
SPORTING PASSION: Henry VIIII was an enthusiastic hunter
Some two centuries later and Henry VIII’s enthusiasm for hunting took him to deer parks across the south of England – and it was during his reign, in 1543, that a rather extraordinary Tudor grandstand was erected here in Epping Forest, now known as Queen Elizabeth’s Hunting Lodge after his daughter.
Henry’s interest in hunting as a young man was useful in helping to project his image as a renaissance prince, but by the time the lodge was erected he had injured himself in a jousting accident and was painfully lame.
It’s not known if he ever even visited the building, though Elizabeth I renovated it in 1589 and legend has it that she actually rode her horse up the stairs in celebration of the defeat of the Spanish Armada.
GRANDSTAND VIEW: the hunting lodge today
Although the lodge itself is a relatively basic museum, it’s part of a much larger success story dating back to the late 19th century, when the City of London Corporation responded to public outcry and stepped in to rescue almost 6,000 acres of the ancient forest from destruction.
That means there are countless other attractions to uncover in the forest, but for now we’re just enjoying the view, trying to imagine how Elizabeth’s powerful guests might have looked out over this landscape almost half a millennium ago.
Hounds would be trained to hunt down the stag or boar by its scent, responding to commands on a horn before the huntsmen would circle the animal and chase it back towards the hunting party.
OPEN OUTLOOK: spectators would look out on a Tudor hunt
The nobles and their ladies rode on horseback behind the hounds and chased the prey through the dense forest, potentially for hours, before the prey was finally caught and killed, a song being played to honour the dying animal before a great feast was prepared with the freshly-hunted venison or boar as the main course.
High-status guests would have looked out from wide openings here, possibly even using crossbows to shoot at prey driven towards the grandstand.
And of course in Tudor times there would have been no stinting on hospitality when it came to the array of meats and poultry, Mediterranean fruits and Eastern spices on offer to show off the power, wealth and generosity of the monarch.
FIT FOR A KING: guests could expect unstinting hospitality
Some of the timbers in the lodge date from the 16th century, when timber-framed buildings were made from freshly cut “green” oak that was full of sap and would crack as it dried out.
But the fireplace is Victorian and a reminder of the 19th-century history of the hunting lodge, when the lodge’s wall hangings so inspired textile artist William Morris as a boy that they may have influenced the tapestries he started to weave in the 1870s.
The lodge served as a manorial court before opening as a museum in 1895.
VICTORIAN ERA: the hunting lodge fireplace
Given modern views about hunting, many visitors may have mixed emotions about some of the history they stumble across in Epping Forest.
Just as it’s hard not to get indigestion contemplating the profligate feasting of the Tudor court, it’s distressing to read about animals like lynx and brown bear existing in Britain when the Romans left, or about species like wolves and wild boar being hunted to extinction.
The harsh punishments of the forest courts and oppression of the peasant population may rankle too, along with those gruesome Tudor sports like cock-fighting and bear-baiting.
PERIOD CHARM: the Butler’s Retreat coffee shop
But you can escape some of the darker memories of past centuries just next door, where a beautifully restored Essex barn offers an idyllic retreat with some great coffee and cake, or something a little more substantial.
Butler’s Retreat also boasts outside seating with stunning views over Chingford Plain and an array of tasty home-made food options, making it a perfect stopping-off spot on a sunny day.
AL FRESCO MEAL: the outside tables at Butler’s Retreat
From here it’s also only a stone’s throw to Connaught Water, a perfect place to walk off the cake and ideal for first-time visitors to the area keen to find a popular easy-access path ideal for the whole family.
Take a relaxed ramble round the lake, which boasts a variety of resident wildfowl from mandarin ducks and geese to swans and great crested grebes, or embark on a slightly longer trail, one of dozens fanning out from here that are documented by local walking enthusiasts on their blogs.
EASY ACCESS: the lakeside path at Connaught Water
After a brief wander round the lake, it’s time to head back round the M25, head still full of visions of medieval monarchs and their friends rampaging through the forest in search of a noble hart.
It’s been only the briefest of introductions to a quite extraordinary landscape, but as it’s only an hour’s drive from home, it’s much more accessible than you might think: a fascinating green oasis just a walk, ride or tube journey away from the Capital with a rich heritage and a wealth of attractions for the first-time visitor.
Even armed with the handy downloadable map produced by the Hodgemoor Riding Association, once you stray off their network of bridleways, it’s likely to be only a matter of time before you lose your bearings.
HANDY MAP: the Hodgemoor bridleways
Perhaps that’s why many dog walkers stick to circular routes from the main car park on Bottrells Lane.
It’s not that the wood is huge: at 250 acres, it’s a good bit smaller than nearby Black Park or sprawling Burnham Beeches. But then there’s no easy grid system to keep you on track and in the densest parts, all the paths tend to look the same.
CAR PARK: the main entrance from Bottrells Lane
Owned by Bucks County Council but run by Forestry England, Hodgemoor lies sandwiched between the historic villages of Chalfont St Giles and Seer Green, bordered by farms, stables and almost deserted country lanes.
DESERTED: Bottom House Farm Lane
A natural heritage area designated a site of special scientific interest by Natural England, it’s sufficiently remote to remain unspoilt and is well maintained by riding association members as part of an impressive 20-year project to improve access for all users.
IMPROVED ACCESS: main paths are well maintained
Among the oaks, birches, beeches and hornbeams are elusive foxes and badgers, though it’s much more likely that walkers will stumble across a startled deer or scurrying squirrel.
At night the hoots of owls can provide an atmospheric soundtrack, but there are times when the trails feel almost eerily silent and near deserted, both by humans and wildlife.
EERIE SILENCE: some areas feel deserted
It’s pretty hard to believe that for 15 years the woods were home to more than 150 Polish families, and that these hidden paths must have echoed to the sounds of children playing as that post-war generation grew up.
It was in 1946 that Buckinghamshire County Council built and managed a reception and billeting camp for Polish soldiers and there are many families who remember Hodgemoor as providing a safe home after the war, with the camp’s population reaching more than 600 at its peak in the 1950s.
SAFE REFUGE: a plaque recalls the Polish camp
Few remnants remain of those prefabricated barracks buildings and Nissen huts that offered a refuge among the trees here until 1962, mainly to families of servicemen from the Third Carpathian division in Italy who could not safely return to Poland, where the country had fallen under the totalitarian regime of Stalin’s Soviet Union.
LAST REMNANTS: few traces remain of buildings
They were among some 120,000 Polish servicemen and women who had fought alongside the allies and accepted the British Government’s offer to settle in this country, initially housed in dozens of similar ‘temporary’ camps.
Conditions may have been primitive but those who lived there recall a real sense of community, complete with a church, infant school, post office, cinema, shop and an entertainment hall boasting a dance team, theatre group, choir and sports club.
‘LITTLE POLAND’: families grew up in the woods
Locals referred to Hodgemoor as ‘Little Poland’, although it wasn’t until 2017 that the first formal reunion took place at the General Bor-Komorowski Club in Amersham, itself built by former Hodgemoor residents and opened in 1974.
Today a commemmorative plaque recalls the days of the camp, though for the most part it’s hard to imagine just how busy the place would have been in the 1950s, with its own resident priest performing mass every day and with adults picking up jobs in Slough, Amersham and High Wycombe, where many would later settle.
ANCIENT CORE: some trees date back centuries
Deep in the heart of Hodgemoor much of the central area is ancient in origin, with records of its existence dating back to the 13th and 14th centuries, though the ancient core is surrounded by semi-natural woodland dating from the 18th century to the present day, one of the largest such tracts remaining in the Buckinghamshire Chilterns.
AUTUMN COLOURS: fungi among the fallen leaves
Generations of children recall riding their bikes up and down the slopes of its mysterious dells, some perhaps marking the remains of diggings for clay to be used in the local brick kilns.
PLAYGROUND: generations of children have enjoyed Hodgemoor
With a wide range of soil types and mixed history of planting, the woods boast an extensive array of trees, shrubs and insects.
SPRING DISPLAY: a bluebell path
Bluebells and foxgloves provide splashes of colour in the spring, while mosses, lichens and an assortment of fungi help to add texture and intrigue to the woodland palette.
STAGING POST: the Red Lion at Coleshill
To the north, more serious ramblers on the Chiltern Way may bypass the woods on their way down from Winchmore Hill and the Red Lion at Coleshill towards Chalfont St Giles, preferring open outlooks over the Misbourne Valley to an unfamiliar detour into the depths of Hodgemoor, perhaps.
OPEN OUTLOOK: the Chiltern Way skirts Hodgemoor
Likewise casual visitors to the farm shops which flank the woods – the Hatchery on the main Amersham road and Stockings Farm on Bottrells Lane – may be unaware of the extended network of woodland walks which surround them.
SNATCHED GLIMPSES: sheep in a farmer’s field
On the edges of the woods, those glimpses of sheep, cattle, pigs and horses are a reminder that civilisation isn’t very far away, and it’s always nice to see members of the riding association cheerily trotting along the bridleways, families building an Eeyore house or inquisitve spaniels nosing among the autumn leaves.
HORSE SENSE: the bridleways are well used
But some of the deeper recesses can feel almost silent, and frozen in time…sometimes a little too quiet for comfort. It’s a reminder of just how overgrown parts of the wood had become back in the 1960s and the extent to which they have been transformed in recent years.
DARK CORNER: a ruined building
Research carried out by the author and amateur sleuth Monica Weller in 2016 reveals a very different place, with charcoal burners who worked in the woods from the 1950s recalling how dense and impenetrable it had become by the time a brutal murder in 1966 focused the nation’s attention on Hodgemoor.
DIFFERENT PLACE: Hodgemoor was overgrown in the 1960s
Weller probes the killing of popular Amersham GP Dr Helen Davidson in her book Injured Parties, and in the process recalls a complex legal battle between the Forestry Commission and local residents over the future management of the woodland.
LEGAL BATTLE: how should the woods be managed?
Thankfully those early wrangles paved the way for what has become something of a model for private-public co-operation, with the horse-riding association members getting the right to use the trails in return for maintaining them.
MANAGED NETWORK: association members look after the trails
It’s an arrangement that’s worked well and for the most part helps to protect the area, with a network of riders and dog walkers on the lookout for any anti-social behaviour and the local parish councils working hard to discourage “unsavoury” activities of the sort that has brought one small area of nearby woodland some notoriety over the years as an alleged hotspot for casual sex.
DAPPLED LIGHT: sunlight falling on ferns
Back in the heart of Hodgemoor, the changing seasons provide a constantly shifting backdrop of different colours and textures, from spring greens to autumn leaves, from frost glittering in the dawn light to evening rays shining through the trees.
EVENING LIGHT: sunset through the trees
The variety is startling, altering with the time of day and the seasons, from those crisp frosty mornings of winter to muggy summer nights where the air is still and listless.
CHANGING LANDSCAPE: colours alter with the seasons
It’s 60 years since the Polish camp shut and those families moved out, but the woods still echo to the sound of children playing, the rustle of inquisitive dogs and hooves of horses on the bridlepaths.
OPEN OUTLOOK: fields north of Hodgemoor
These days, a new generation of ramblers, riders and dog walkers are disappearing into the maze of paths which make it so easy to feel you are alone, even when know other people are close at hand.
TIMELESS FEEL: the woods in autumn
In so many ways it’s a very different landscape from that which housed the postwar camp, yet often the place feels timeless: and for villagers in Seer Green and Chalfont St Giles, it remains a wonderful playground on the doorstep where the appeal of a walk in the woods never grows old.
SUMMERTIME, and the livin’ is easy down on the waterfront in Bristol.
Tourists are mingling with the locals sauntering around the historic harbourside, many just sunning themselves on the quayside watching the world go by.
It’s a perfect place for a relaxed father-and-daughter reunion, surrounded by the iconic cargo cranes, dockyard railway wagons and historic vessels which provide such vivid evidence that this is a city built on industry and invention.
WATERFRONT WANDER: cargo cranes outside the M Shed in Bristol
During the day, Isambard Kingdom Brunel’s SS Great Britain dominates the waterfront, dressed with flags and ready for departure, just as she looked at her launch in 1843, welcoming a new generation of visitors aboard to find out more about life on the world’s first great luxury liner.
Brunel built bridges, tunnels, ships and railways that were longer, faster and bigger than anything seen before, but while there’s plenty to celebrate about his engineering genius – and his extraordinary transatlantic steamship – there’s no escaping a much darker aspect of Bristol’s maritime past.
DOCKYARD LINE: the Bristol Harbour Railway
The M Shed is the city’s social history museum, home to iconic objects, documents, photographs, films and personal testimonies that tell Bristol’s story from its prehistoric beginnings to the present day.
Free to visit, it’s one of the old cargo sheds on the quayside that recall a time when the harbourside was a flourishing working dock rather than a trendy leisure destination.
It’s also a reminder that by the late 1730s, Bristol had become Britain’s premier slaving port, with local ships transporting thousands of enslaved Africans to work on sugar plantations in the British Caribbean or in the tobacco farms of Virginia and Maryland.
It was on this waterfront that anti-racism protesters gathered in 2020 after pulling down a bronze statue of the 17th-century slave trader Edward Colston, toppling it into the harbour while demonstrating their solidarity with the US Black Lives Matter movement.
The museum doesn’t shy away from that grim legacy, chronicling how profits from the slave trade formed the basis of Bristol’s first banks and some of its finest Georgian architecture, with local ships supplying the British colonies with a wide range of goods and returning laden with slave-produced Caribbean produce such as sugar, rum, indigo and cocoa for refining, processing and manufacturing.
EVENING LIGHT: sunshine on the quayside
Back in the sunshine of the quayside, the restaurants are gearing up for the evening and the huge dockside entertainment venues are mercifully empty on a Monday night, though those who enjoy a more frantic atmosphere can come back at the weekend for the full-blown party vibe.
It’s a picturesque setting in the fading sunshine, but if you fancy something a little more traditional, the 17th-century Llandoger Trow round the corner in King Street has a huge variety of ales on tap and an intriguing history.
CONVIVIAL PINT: outside the Llandoger Trow
Along with allegedly hosting a variety of ghosts, it is said to have inspired Robert Louis Stevenson to write of the Admiral Benbow Inn in Treasure Island, as well as being the place where Daniel Defoe supposedly met Alexander Selkirk, the castaway who was his inspiration for Robinson Crusoe.
Even so early in the week, the tables outside provide a convivial meeting place on a summer’s night, not least for the joyful sounds emanating from the Old Duke across the road, a legendary Bristol jazz and blues venue which hosts free live music every night of the week.
Dating from around 1775, the pub’s heritage lies with traditional New Orleans-inspired jazz, with some regulars having played at the venue for decades.
We’re in luck, because Monday night boasts an evening of traditional jazz, and on this occasion it’s Jeremy Huggett and friends belting out some memorable favourites.
It’s a perfect choice. Monday nights don’t come much mellower than this, even if it’s only the briefest snapshot of just how much the city has got to offer.
From galleries, museums and theatres to live music, seasonal events and that wonderful waterfront, Bristol’s got a huge range of experiences to offer visitors, and a good variety of city centre hotels offering cheaper accommodation on weekday nights if you can manage a short break.
It’s only been the most fleeting of visits, but definitely one to whet the appetite. Don’t worry, Bristol, we’ll be back…
WHEN you visit Turville for the first time, don’t be surprised if the place looks familiar.
So many films and TV shows have been shot in and around this picturesque Buckinghamshire village that a sense of deja vu is almost unavoidable.
LOCAL LANDMARK: the Bull and Butcher in Turville
From the Vicar of Dibley and Midsomer Murders to Killing Eve and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, the quaint buildings frozen in time against the glorious backdrop of the Hambleden Valley are often indelibly etched on our memories.
Isn’t that the windmill in which Dick van Dyke – sorry, Caractacus Potts – lived with the children back in 1968 when Chitty Chitty Bang Bang hit the big screen?
And isn’t that Geraldine Granger’s cottage in The Vicar of Dibley? And the church where she preaches?
Don’t worry, you’re not imagining it – you really have seen these places before.
In fact Geraldine’s Grade II-listed home in the grounds of St Mary the Virgin Church hit the national headlines when it went up for sale in 2022 for the first time in 60 years.
But then this is the English countryside at it’s best, so it’s not surprising that the ramblers and sightseers flock here at weekends, sometimes clogging the narrow country lanes as they explore the pretty villages, historic churches and cosy pubs that they’ve seen on TV.
Most are keen to combine a leisurely ramble with a sociable Sunday lunch in a classic country pub, so hostelries like Turville’s Bull and Butcher are popular watering holes.
SCENE OF THE CRIME: on the Midsomer Murders trail
Built in 1550, the quintessentially English pub boasts large open fires and original beams in the winter and a large sunny garden and patio area for warm summer days.
SUNNY SPOT: the Bull and Butcher garden
Owners Brakspear know there’s nothing like a walk in the countryside to work up an appetite, so they’ve produced a handy free app describing dozens of circular walks around many of their pubs, some like the Bull boasting downloadable leaflets you can print out too.
BREATH OF FRESH AIR: pub walks around Turville
A trio of walks feature on the Turville leaflet, ranging from an hour-long wander round the village taking in the church and distinctive Cobstone Windmill – a smock mill dating from around 1816 that was owned by the actress Hayley Mills in the 1970s – to longer and slightly more demanding routes taking you further afield to the villages of Skirmett, Frieth and Fingest.
STAGING POST: the Chequers in Fingest
Incorporating clear directions, pictures and some useful snippets about local history, there are similar leaflets covering routes around other Brakspear pubs in the valley.
WAY TO GO: the route explained
Weekend ramblers in this part of the world are also likely to stumble across fans of the Midsomer Murders detective series hot on the trail of DCI Barnaby, thanks to a downloadable guide to the Hambleden Valley launched in 2018.
ON LOCATION: the Midsomer Murders guide
The 17-mile circular route from Marlow to Hambleden, Fingest, Lane End and Frieth features locations from the TV series and includes tourist attractions like the Chiltern Valley Winery and Brewery and Lacey’s Farm.
MURDER TRAIL: Neil Dudgeon as DCI John Barnaby
But this valley is a veritable magnet for ramblers, cyclists and nature lovers, and if you want a friendly guide to an even wider range of picturesque routes around the area, Chilterns-based runner, trekker and “general mud-lover” Richard Gower has a whole range of illustrated walks on his website.
VALLEY VIEW: Richard Gower outside Hambleden PICTURE: Timea Kristof
THERE could hardly be a more iconically English landscape than the Limpley Stoke valley.
This is a world of honeyed stone and chocolate-box villages, sleepy canalside pubs and bustling tea rooms, soaring aqueducts and busy locks where weekend strolls are punctuated by the smell of wild garlic and woodsmoke.
A lifetime ago, it was an evening pint in the glorious garden of the 16th-century Inn at Freshford which convinced me that it might be wise to leave a better-paid job in rain-soaked Glasgow and move to Bath, with its impressive Roman baths and Georgian architecture.
During a decade there, and in nearby Bathampton and Bradford on Avon, the Kennet & Avon canal provided a picturesque backdrop to my daughter’s childhood, so it seems fitting that we’re able to meet up here for a ramble on one of those most magical of summer days when the valley is at its best.
It’s a 10-mile walk from Bath to Bradford on Avon, but most locals have their favourite stretch for a less demanding afternoon stroll. and there’s also the option of taking the train out to Freshford or Avoncliff for a shorter circular or one-way trip, returning from one of the other stops on the route.
Our meander will take us from Bradford on Avon to Avoncliff, the outward journey on the canal towpath, the return route running alongside the river.
With the Avon at its heart, the Wiltshire town lies at the southern edge of the Cotswolds, surrounded by glorious countryside.
The Saxons drove their carts across the ‘broad ford’ that gave the town its name and the staple local industry for six centuries was wool and weaving, leaving a legacy of great riverside mills, with ranks of weavers’ cottages lining the hillsides, punctuated by the grand houses of wealthy clothiers.
A variety of canalside watering holes provide a good start or end point to any ramble, along with a reminder that this is part of an impressive 87-mile waterway linking the Bristol Channel with London.
More than 200 years ago horses would have plodded along towpaths like these carrying cargoes of stone and coal, but competition from the railways heralded the demise of the canal network, much of which later fell into disrepair and disuse.
When the canal opened in 1810, the wharf in Bradford would have been a busy place. Back then we might have seen boats loaded with coal from the Somerset coalfield, or goods like barley and local cheeses.
But its fate was sealed only three decades later when the Great Western Railway opened.
Thankfully a resurgence of interest from enthusiasts and volunteers helped to revitalise and restore the waterway, which was officially reopened by Queen Elizabeth II in 1990.
And today, as we make our way past one of the largest medieval barns in England, the towpath is positively bustling with activity.
Indeed, sections of the canal path can get a little too hectic at weekends, when there can be an occasional battle for dominance between the more assertive walkers and faster joggers and cyclists.
But if whirring tyres and tinkling bells can prove distracting at times, for the most part everyone’s here to savour the relaxed atmosphere and most are making a conscious effort to show consideration to others.
Out on the water there are a few day rentals and holidaymakers cheerily chugging up and down, while the longer-term residents are moored up along the towpath, their boats laden with bikes, pot plants and other personal paraphernalia.
There are plenty of wildfowl entertaining the passers-by here, including a particularly large family of ducklings, though a hungry-looking heron shows a little too much interest in these cute fluffy snacks until he’s chased away by an obliging spaniel.
We’re making good time on our 1.4-mile saunter towards the village of Avoncliff, home to one of a couple of impressive aqueducts between here and Bath built to carry the canal high over the River Avon and the railway.
Both were designed by the prolific Scottish civil engineer John Rennie, whose bridges, canals, docks and warehouses have stood the test of time, scattered all over the country.
The three arches of the aqueduct at Avoncliff offer a particularly pleasant outlook over the valley below, and the glorious riverside gardens of the Cross Guns inn.
It’s an idyllic location for a traditional pub meal on a summer’s evening like this, with equally spectacular views back towards Rennie’s aqueduct and little to disturb the peace other than the gentle murmur of a train stopping at the village’s tiny railway station.
Like many of the other villages scattered along the valley, this is a quintessentially English setting, and it’s easy to understand why the tourists love the area so much.
Avoncliff is the perfect starting point for rambles up or down the valley, with its succession of pretty villages with their Bath stone cottages, climbing roses and cottage gardens.
The Cross Guns itself is one of the oldest buildings, a Tudor residence extended in the early 1600s and originally known as The Carpenter’s Arms, providing respite for travellers and drovers using the ford across the river and later used by quarrymen, millworkers and travellers.
Business was booming by the turn of the 18th century when the canal arrived, bargees stabling their horses behind the old cellar and relaxing over a game of cards, smoke curling from their clay pipes as they shared tales stretching the length of the canal.
The name change to the Cross Guns stems from the late 18th century, in recognition of the formation of the local yeomanry in the shape of the 9th (Bradford on Avon) Battalion of the Wiltshire Rifle Volunteers.
Like other hostelries along the valley, the inn has seen its fair share of boom times, though trade was tough in the 1960s when the mills had become derelict and the canal was in disrepair.
Thankfully trade is healthy again now that the canal has been revitalised, whether that’s round a roaring fire on a cold winter’s night or like today, basking in the sun by the river tucking into hearty pub grub like fish and chips or a handmade pie.
It’s still warm, but time to start thinking about the homeward leg of our journey, this time taking a slight detour from the canal to follow the river back to Bradford.
Of course we could have jumped on the train to Freshford or Bath, taken time to explore the villages of Limpley Stoke, Bathampton or Claverton (home to the fascinating American Museum), or taken time just to watch the narrowboats negotiate the locks linking the canal to the River Avon in Bath.
But perhaps those are outings best left for another day. For now, the leisurely stroll back to Bradford is the perfect end to our nostalgic waterside walk through this most beautiful of valleys, carved out of the local limestone over millions of years.
Here, historic pubs and glorious views provide a perfect backdrop to the world of the gongoozler, or idle observer of life on the canal – and it’s hard to think if a nicer way of enjoying a lazy day in the sun.
MY BELOVED has no great aversion to men in kilts. She even married one.
She’s as moved as anyone by the sight of a lone piper on a castle battlement and has been known to step out on the ceilidh dance floor with gusto.
FORMAL DRESS: the big day PICTURE: Alexis Jaworski
But expose her to what she cruelly dubs “maudlin and sentimental” Scottish music and she’s a lot less sympathetic.
This is the source of the occasional good-humoured marital disagreement, because I have a weakness for the sort of poetry and song that’s guaranteed to make any exiled Scot go misty-eyed with emotion over their glass of malt.
Why so? A childhood of holidays on the Moray Coast and four years at Aberdeen University for a start.
HOLIDAY MEMORIES: Findochty on the Moray Coast
Summers in the sixties were spent roaming the cliffs and beaches of the small fishing village of “Finechty” surrounded by what seemed a huge extended family of uncles and cousins.
The chance to study Scots and Irish literature amid the hallowed walls of the ancient university in Aberdeen meant returning north as a teenager to the Granite City with its seagull cries and those biting winds sweeping in off the North Sea.
The latter half of the 1970s were spent here, enjoying the still calm of a lonely desk hidden among the “stacks” of King’s College library in Old Aberdeen and attempting to explore all of the city’s 250-odd drinking establishments.
SEASIDE RENDEZVOUS: the beach at “Finechty”
After that, a decade working on the local paper, initially as a trainee reporter and later as features editor of the Evening Express, meant years spent experiencing, relishing and chronicling all the trials and tribulations of life in the north-east of Scotland.
Life in Thatcher’s Britain was posing plenty of challenges, but from “district drives” in remote Aberdeenshire villages to interviewing everyone from politicians and professors to farmers and teachers, detectives and criminals, there could hardly be a better way of immersing yourself fully in the community.
It was a young, sociable team on the EE too, with 4pm finishes allowing plenty of time for teatime drinks down at the Kirkgate Bar, which had also been a popular student haunt.
FAREWELL TOAST: an EE leaving do in the 1980s
All of which of course means countless memories too: of friends and family, student parties and dances, music and laughter, times of loss and fond thoughts of those no longer around to share the reminiscences.
Which is where the music comes in. But why do we listen to sad music? And is nostalgic music necessarily sad?
The song that has prompted the whole conversation is one that’s a new discovery to me: Lewis Capaldi’s Someone You Loved, released back in 2019 and inspired by the death of the Scottish singer-songwriter’s grandmother.
The accompanying video featuring his distant cousin, the actor Peter Capaldi, is a real tearjerker, made in partnership with charity organisation Live Life Give Life to help raise awareness about the issue of organ donation.
It’s a poignant story of loss and hope about a husband who is trying to cope with the death of his wife, who became the heart donor for the young mother of another family, saving her life.
Heartbreaking, uplifting, impactful…the Youtube comments make it clear that this is a song which resonates with listeners, especially those struggling to cope with bereavement. It doubtless became an instant hit to play at funerals.
It’s also brilliantly performed by the actor we know better as Dr Who, or the irascible, foul-mouthed Malcolm Tucker in The Thick Of It and In The Loop.
Like all timeless art, it captures the universality of those shared emotions which help to tie us together, reminding us of our own lost loved ones: the tinkling laugh of a favourite London aunt or soft Scottish burr of a kindly Orcadian uncle, perhaps.
Like a picture from an old album, our thoughts may wander back to a moment frozen in time: that day back in the 1960s when my mum was standing with her brothers and my young sister Fiona outside my grandmother’s home in Findochty, for example.
FLASHBACK: a rare, rediscovered 1960s family snapshot
I don’t remember the smart white coat, but she was obviously very proud of it. My uncles, John-Alec and Willie (“Doods”), would doubtless have been gently teasing my father about his “posh job” in London, and slyly slipping me a half-crown at some point during the holiday that I could use to buy a paperback.
The picture is significant because it’s such an “ordinary” unposed shot, taken at a time when we owned neither a camera nor a car, and all the more poignant because it remained undiscovered for decades in a box of old slides, unseen because we never owned a slide projector either.
It’s not my favourite picture of my uncles, though: that honour goes to an earlier almost biblical shot of the trawler skippers mending their nets in the harbour. But both shots are evocative reminders of where my own family’s journey started.
BIBLICAL IMAGE: mending the nets
This is the small fishing village that my mother left as a teenager to train to become a nurse and midwife – initially in Aberdeen and later hundreds of miles away in London.
Our annual childhood visits back to the north-east were an August ritual for years, my grandmother always a familiar figure on the doorstep of “Number Eight”, a house that smelt of polished wood and bubbling broth, where there was an organ in the smart front room and a short-wave radio in the lounge for tuning in to the fishing boats at sea.
WELCOMING SMILE: grannie on her doorstep
This is where my mother and father married in the mid-1950s, surrounded by friends and family at the small village church, guests arriving by steam train on the glorious coastal route along the cliffs from Cullen, a trackbed I would walk as a teenager 20 years later, long after the last train had run.
BIG DAY: wedding guests outside the village church
It’s the same church you can see from the picturesque cemetery where nowadays they and other family members are buried: a last resting place in the most spectacular of locations.
Which takes us back to Lewis Capaldi, perhaps. Nostalgia is all about a sentimental longing for times past, wistful memories of pleasure or sadness from years gone by – like those wonderful summer holidays in Scotland, for example, with relatives who have long since passed.
COASTAL VIEWS: the cemetery overlooking Findochty
Capaldi’s sensitive lyrics give the song a broader appeal too, not just for those grieving the loss of a loved one, but for anyone lamenting the end of a relationship, perhaps.
That’s all very well. But why do we often actively enjoy listening to sad music? And are Scots particularly fond of wallowing over sentimental memories?
Scots traditional music is steeped in melancholy, of course: of parting and of unrequited love, of forgotten battles and the homesickness suffered by those forced to leave their homeland and emigrate abroad.
Celtic tunes crossed oceans and ancient ballads and laments became an important basis for American folk, bluegrass, and country music too.
JAM SESSION: university friends tune up
Music was a constant theme of my university years, at ceilidhs and discos and impromptu jam sessions with talented friends.
From nights at the ABC Bowl in George Street watching Frank Robb and Super Klute to sociable sessions at the Malt Mill or Bobbin Mill, we made the most of Aberdeen’s thriving music scene.
There were regular ceilidhs at the Northern Hotel, Celtic Society and university officers’ training corps, Sunday jazz at the Gloucester Hotel, countless informal get-togethers in snug bars and student flats.
And years later those songs would still resonate in the memory, LPs of bands like Five Hand Reel, Ossian and Runrig on regular repeat to recapture happy memories of those sociable years.
Why do we love sad songs so much, though? As Simon McCarthy-Jones discusses in The Conversation, perhaps it’s all about empathy: that flood of emotions we feel when we relate to other people’s circumstances and can share in their hopes, fears and tribulations.
Nostalgia relates to our memories being trigggered by important moments and shared experiences in our own lives: and from Burns poems to Scotland the Brave or the Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomond, it doesn’t take long for a group of exiled Scots to start belting out some familiar classics.
From protest songs like Hamish Henderson’s evocative Freedom-Come-All-Ye to the unofficial national anthem that is Dougie Maclean’s Caledonia, a song with a story to tell is all the more resonant too.
Whether it’s the technical brilliance of a plaintive chord or haunting melody, the beauty of the lyrics or vividness of the imagery, this is music to make the heart melt.
But let me tell you that I love you, that I think about you all the time Caledonia you’re calling me and now I’m going home
Such songs may stimulate the release of comforting hormones, boost our feelings of connectedness or help to distract us from our problems, but whatever the underlying science, it seems that sometimes allowing ourselves to spend a little time savouring melancholic thoughts can help boost our overall emotional health.
TARTAN REUNION: a night of music and song
And bring a group of exiled Scots together for a Burns night meal or similar celebration and it’s unthinkable that there won’t be plenty of music and song to accompany sentimental reminiscences about times past.
The lyrics don’t have to directly echo our own life experiences, either: we can empathise with the specifics while tapping into the same broad emotions, conjuring up a kaleidoscope of our own memories spanning the years.
In my case, that might mean nights out with university friends or office outings with colleagues from the Evening Express – to the Insch races, Braemar gathering or rugby in Paris.
EIGHTIES HEYDAY: the Evening Express before computerisation
Listening to Caledonia might remind me of bumping into Dougie MacLean at a bar during the Edinburgh Festival, the chants on the rugby terraces at Murrayfield, that familiar brewery smell when you step off the train at Haymarket or Waverley.
Or waking on the overnight sleeper to be greeted by those glorious coastal views as the train wends over the border and north towards Dundee and Aberdeen…
Or those countless nights of fun and friendship with work colleagues, tinged with sadness because not all of those smiling faces are still around to share the memories.
ABSENT FRIENDS: EE staff enjoy a night out
Sharing a dram with an old friend who’s been told he is dying, the tunes and the memories are all the more poignant, of course.
We met as 17-year-olds almost half a century ago and have shared plenty of adventures over the years, at home and abroad. There are a lot of tales to tell and laughs to share.
As students we worked long shifts in a Dutch pickle factory and later rode the rails around Europe. We slept on Milan station, played backgammon on a Greek ferry, fell ill on a crowded train in what was then Yugoslavia.
TRAVELLERS’ TALES: a night out on Speyside
A croupier, teacher, filmmaker, bullrunner and entrepreneur with a mischievous sense of humour, a knack for political incorrectness and a distrust of anyone in authority, he’s fondly remembered by former students for his eccentric ties – one for every day of the teaching year – and even more colourful teaching methods, as well as those school football tours abroad that involved a great deal more socialising than football.
Being around him has its drawbacks. The relentless lack of political incorrectness, the bad jokes and madcap schemes can be exhausting. But the childlike joy at planning a merry jape is ample compensation, especially when you can look back with affection on countless shared adventures spanning more than four decades.
Pour him a large whisky and those old stories start to flow, many particularly poignant because health worries and the advancing years mean that we can’t turn back the clock.
SHARED ADVENTURES: raising a glass at New Year
But if the past cannot be repeated, it can certainly still be recaptured – and perhaps that’s where those sad songs are of most importance.
Interestingly, when it comes to his nomination for an old favourite to savour over a dram, it’s a timeless classic from the Scots band Runrig, with a particularly poignant story to tell.
Back in 1973, two brothers and a friend from the Scottish island of Skye formed a ceilidh dance band that would go on to tour the world, release a string of hit records and touch the hearts of millions of fans.
Inspired by the language and history of the Western Isles, Runrig took Gaelic culture from the dance halls of the Highlands to massive arenas across Europe, although when we saw them play at the students’ union in Aberdeen it was a far cry from their final performance four decades later in front of 50,000 crying, dancing fans in the shadow of Stirling Castle.
But you don’t have to come from the Hebrides to understand how our past shapes and defines us, or to appreciate the poignant beauty of music and melody which is infused with both joy and sadness.
And when we watch the emotional video which accompanies “The Story”, there are dozens of intermingled images conjured up by those lyrics: of student nights in an Aberdeen bar or wild ceilidhs in remote village halls, of the annual Highlanders’ dance at Portobello Town Hall in Edinburgh, of all those exploits and hijinks that span the decades: of watching children grow up and grieving the loss of family and friends, of love and loss, of hope and laughter.
And that’s the beauty of good music. Or, as Elton John tells us:
They reach into your room, oh oh oh Just feel their gentle touch (gentle touch) When all hope is gone You know sad songs say so much
POSTSCRIPT: It’s comforting to read in Susan Cain’s book Bittersweet, based on a lifetime of research, that transforming pain, sorrow and poignant memories into creativity can be a positive, enriching and sometimes transcendental process. She even suggests a Bittersweet playlist (a welcome reminder that a whole separate blog could be dedicated to Leonard Cohen’s gloriously moving So Long, Marianne…)
It’s more than half a century since she wrote Big Yellow Taxi, though the youthful Joni could hardly have realised her words would turn into quite such a timeless environmental anthem.
Inspired by the juxtaposition of her hotel parking lot against the backdrop of the Hawaiian mountains, she wrote:
Don’t it always seem to go That you don’t know what you’ve got Till it’s gone They paved paradise And put up a parking lot
It was 1969 and she was just 26 when she penned her “little rock and roll song”, which originally appearing on her Ladies of the Canyon album and was released as a single in April 1970.
It was her first trip to Hawaii and she later recalled how she took a taxi to her hotel late at night without getting to see much of the island.
“When I woke up the next morning, I threw back the curtains and saw these beautiful green mountains in the distance. Then, I looked down and there was a parking lot as far as the eye could see, and it broke my heart,” she said.
ISLAND LIFE: the Nā Pali coast on Kauai PICTURE: Jelle de Gier, Unsplash
Initially a regional hit in Hawaii, it took time for the impact of the music to gain a true international audience.
“It took 20 years for that song to sink in to people most other places,” she later recalled. “That is a powerful little song because there have been cases in a couple of cities of parking lots being torn up and turned into parks because of it.”
Hey farmer farmer Put away that DDT now Give me spots on my apples But leave me the birds and the bees Please!
Flash forward to Britain in 2023 and that concrete jungle has become not just an everyday reality but is posing an existential crisis for our wildlife.
URBAN BLIGHT: cars dominate our lives PICTURE: Michael Fousert, Unsplash
Somehow we’ve become blind to the issue and the insidious way in which the motor car has come to completely dominate our lives.
For a few brief months in the heart of lockdown we were exposed to an alternative reality, where families went out for walks together and we suddenly started to hear the birds and insects above the steady drone of traffic.
MOMENT OF CALM: families left their cars at home during lockdown
But as Paul Donald examines in his new book, Traffication, it seems we have very quickly forgotten any lessons we might have learned during the pandemic.
And as Mark Avery suggests in his review, Donald’s book could be very timely and significant for all those interested in wildlife conservation.
It’s not just that the trillions of miles of driving we do each year are destroying our natural environment, but that we have become almost oblivious to the scale of the threat.
OVERFLOWING: cars dominate the landscape PICTURE: Christian Wiediger, Unsplash
Our streets and driveways are overflowing with cars. Whereas car ownership was once a dream for poorer families, it’s become a prerequisite of 21st-century life, as much as smartphones and Netflix.
And whereas we once ridiculed Americans for their reliance on gas-guzzling limousines, their endless highway traffic jams and sprawling out-of-town shopping malls, we have hardly noticed how our small island has been transformed in the past 20 years.
CONCRETE JUNGLE: parking space is at a premium
More than a decade ago, a report showed millions of the UK’s front gardens had been paved over to become parking spaces, a trend that has continued ever since, with fewer and fewer front gardens boasting any refuge for wildlife.
Such lifeless hardstandings are often actively encouraged by estate agents, boasting that a driveway could add to the value of the property, yet this doesn’t just deprive birds and insects of vital food but increases floodwater run-off, making drains more likely to overflow.
Over the past half-century our lives have changed in many subtle ways. But during that time, car ownership figures have exploded. In 1950 there were just four million vehicles on the road. Today it’s more like 33 million, and they are clustered everywhere: on verges and roadside, car parks and front drives.
QUIETER ROADS: car ownership has trebled since the 1970s
The proliferation is every bit as damaging to nature as habitat loss or intensive farming, and not simply in terms of roadkill: a busy road can strip the wildlife from our countryside for miles around and the impact of traffic all-pervasive, affecting every aspect of animals’ lives.
Couple all this with the growing popularity of artificial grass and the fact that our roads are lined with litter and pockmarked by flytipping, and it genuinely feels as if the natural world is increasingly under siege in our urban landscapes.
It’s also not a problem that’s just as bad everywhere else in Europe. Take Amsterdam, for example, where cycles, trams and boats outnumber cars – and where the air quality is much cleaner as a result.
TWO WHEELS GOOD: cycles in Amsterdam
Back in Britain, it feels as if we’re running out of time to protect what’s left of our countryside.
As the wonderful Joni wrote all those years ago:
They took all the trees and put ’em in a tree museum And they charged the people a dollar and a half to see them No, no, no
RARE SPECIMEN: an ancient tree at Burnham Beeches
We’re not quite there yet, but we desperately need to reverse the trend. We have lost billions of birds, insects and mammals in recent decades, and wildlife needs all our help to survive and flourish in the coming years.
Large-scale rewilding partnerships are wonderful, but millions of ordinary householders could be doing their own bit to stop the rot…before it really IS too late.
Oxfordshire Artweeks runs until May 29, allowing visitors to speak directly to hundreds of artists, makers and designers across the county in venues ranging from their own studios to pop-up galleries in local pubs, farms and churches.
The three-week long celebration of creative talent starts in south Oxfordshire and then moves north and west in mid-May before culminating in a week of events around the city of Oxford.
Those taking part range from painters and sculptors to artists specialising in ceramics, photography, textiles and sculpture, along with craftspeople working in wood, glass, mosaics and jewellery.
Tickels the Sheep in Cedar by Andrew Binnie at Venue 109
The annual event offers a chance to talk to artists about their work, watch demonstrations and even have a go yourself. Many items are for sale, ranging from postcards and prints for a few pounds to large-scale original works costing thousands.
The full programme includes 174 artists across South Oxfordshire whose work is on show until May 14.
Some towns, like Watlington, boast dozens of individual artists showing off their works, with some collaborating in shared spaces like those at Turville Studios or at Greenfield Farm at Christmas Common, which even boasts a pop-up cafe.
All venues are drop-in and free to visit. Opening hours are generally 11am-6pm: they vary however, so confirm the times for individual venues before travelling.
CAN a walk in the woods help you cope with chronic pain? Gel Murphy thinks so.
And our picture choice this week reflects the way that photography has transformed her life since she stepped back from her teaching career.
FIRST STEPS: walking can offer new perspectives PICTURE: Gel Murphy
As a busy deputy headteacher in London, her working life was dominated by meeting other people’s needs. But in August 2020 the long-term pain stemming from an old back injury forced her to give up her job and retire.
“I loved my job and in total worked 30 years in education,” she says. “Work had always been my crutch and others’ needs mattered before mine. I had no time to exercise; I had medical treatment to keep me at work.”
But chronic pain takes a heavy toll on your emotions and mental wellbeing, she admits. “Every day I suffer chronic pain, pain that is always there, lurking in the background,” she says.
COPING STRATEGY: a woodland ramble can lift the spirits PICTURE: Gel Murphy
And that’s when the great outdoors started to play a bigger role in her life.
“To take control and with the support of my wife, family, and friends, I began to manage my pain, through walking, healthy eating and learning about pain,” she recalls. “I still have pain every day, but I built a toolbox of coping strategies.
“One of these strategies to understand the connection between physical and mental pain is mindfulness and walking.
WELCOME ESCAPE: a footpath near Amersham PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Accompanied by her four-legged friend Obi-dog, and often in the company of fellow rambler and photographer Sue Craigs Erwin, Gel soon found herself spending hours in the woods around Amersham, taking pictures on her phone on the way.
“I walk every day,” she says. “I walk two to three miles in the beautiful Buckinghamshire countryside and take photographs on my iPhone. I don’t have a camera, my phone is my camera.
“I had never taken photographs before. Being in nature helps me forget about my pain and taking that time to stop has opened my eyes to the colours, light, beauty and changes all around.”
FABULOUS FUNGI: nature provides a welcome distraction PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Through a pain management program she was introduced to photographer Jo Bradford , who has written a number of books about smartphone photography.
“She is inspirational,” says Gel. “I was also fortunate to meet her and spend a magical morning taking photos on Dartmoor.
“I never realised the seasons had so much depth, or the magic of the light. Every day is a new picture.”
CLOSE CALL: a clip-on lens displays more detail PICTURE: Gel Murphy
Armed with a clip-on macro lens, she has also started to take close-ups of insects and plants, sharing them on a variety of local Facebook nature and wildlife groups, as well as becoming a regular contributor to The Beyonder’s calendar feature, chronicling the changing seasons in the Chilterns.
Spurred on by the members of an emotional wellbeing group which sprang up online during lockdown – organised by Christine Moran, a mental health specialist and founder of Positive Energy Being – she gained confidence in her photography and the belief that things could and would get better.
“I enjoy walking and being outside,” she says. ” We are blessed living in the Chilterns, an area of outstanding beauty. There are many amazing places to walk, I just had to start.
POLLEN COUNT: a busy bee caught on camera PICTURE: Gel Murphy
“I began walking, while listening to my sad music. It was how I felt: I was stuck in my head. Then with the support, I began listening to the sounds around me and taking time to look at the beauty around me.
“I began to see the beauty of nature, the change in the seasons and felt the warmth of the sun on my face. I took photos of what I saw, I shared them and they were applauded.
“Taking photos of nature has distracted me from my pain and led me to create my blog. I hope my photos make people smile.”
MIDNIGHT mass in the picturesque French hilltop town of St Paul de Vence is a true community affair.
Outside the defensive ramparts, just through the original stone gateway that leads to the narrow cobbled main street, a group of locals are dressed in appropriate garb as part of a living nativity scene.
Christmas lights twinkle in deserted alleys across the historic village now that dusk has fallen, hiding the spectacular views out towards the French Riviera.
There’s an eager buzz of anticipation in the centuries-old village church with its ornate side chapels and Rococo frescoes, the youngsters eyeing up the feast of tasty treats prepared for after communion, older villagers catching up with friends, some quite exuberant at the tail end of an evening of celebration.
Outside, a village cat sits demurely observing the comings and goings. The church has filled up and the surrounding streets are almost deserted.
The priest heads down to lead the nativity procession back up to the church, Mary and the shepherds lighting flaming torches for the short journey. There’s even a disgruntled-looking black labrador in tow, dressed in a sheep’s fleece and clearly unconvinced about the necessity to look the part.
Most of the tourists have gone home, so this feels like one of those rare moments when the locals – total population around 3,450 – have the village to themselves.
That’s something of a special experience to share, because the medieval beauty, rich heritage and artistic legacy of St Paul has made it a magnet for visitors across the centuries, nowadays numbered in their millions.
Back in the 1920s, as now, it was the extraordinary light of the south of France that lured artists here, setting up their easels to capture the richness of the colours and intensity of the contrasts between sun and shade.
The first arrived a hundred years ago and others followed in the footsteps, including Matisse and Picasso, many enjoying the company of Paul Roux, a painter, art collector and restaurateur whose modest inn would become a village institution, its dining room and courtyard adorned with the artworks of those early guests.
Today, little has changed. Earlier in the evening, well-heeled diners were still soaking up the timeless atmosphere of the Colombe d’Or, with its attentive waistcoated waiters and colourful handwritten menus.
Still owned by the Roux familiar, the walls still adorned with the artworks of those early guests, the establishment continues to unite the Provençal way of life with an amazing private modern art collection, leaving diners replete with memories of previous conversations that have echoed around these walls among the writers, poets, film-makers and artists who flocked here in the 50s and 60s, from Jacques Prévert and Yves Montand to Braque and Chagall.
Earlier in the day, visitors wandered through the narrow alleys and tiny squares, gazing through gallery windows or staring out from the ramparts over the olive trees and vines that stud the hillsides from here to the azure of the Mediterranean.
Now, back in church communion is at an end, but the nativity tableau is still involved in some enthusiastic carol singing – even if our labrador friend has determinedly shrugged off his woolly fleece.
A firm favourite is the traditional French carol celebrating Christ’s birth:
Il est né le divin enfant, Jouez hautbois, résonnez musettes! Il est né le divin enfant, Chantons tous son avènement!
It’s time to slip away through the peaceful streets of the hilltop village and leave the locals to their songs and festive delicacies.
The “divin enfant” is safely ensconced in his stable bed and for now, all’s right with the world…
IT’S the Christian feast which marks the end of Christmas, and it’s been celebrated all over the globe for centuries.
But in an increasingly secular world, it’s doubtful how many ordinary UK people on the street in 2023 could actually explain the significance of Epiphany.
WISE MEN: a stained glass portrait of the Magi in the church at Taize
The celebration commemorates the Magi’s visit to the baby Jesus and the baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist in the River Jordan.
Eastern traditions usually call the holiday Theophany and focus on Jesus’ baptism, seen as the revelation of Christ as both fully human and fully divine.
Western traditions focus on the Magi’s visit, seen as the first manifestation of Christ as saviour of Gentiles as well as Jews.
The feast takes place on the day after Twelfth Night, the traditional end of the Christmas season, which in the Middle Ages was a period of continuous feasting and merrymaking from Christmas Day until January 5.
Shakespeare used Twelfth Night as the setting for one of his most famous stage plays and today we know it as the last day for decorations to be taken down, although in Elizabethan England, decorations were left up until Candlemas.
After Twelfth Night, Epiphany celebrates the revelation that Jesus was the Son of God, focusing on the visit by the Three Wise Men “from the east” to worship the king of the jews, bearing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, along with the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan and the wedding at Cana, when Jesus performed his first public miracle.
In the early Church, Christians celebrated all these events, including the nativity, on January 6. It was only in later centuries that both Christmas Day and Epiphany became established as feast days, separated by the 12 days of the Christmas season.
Many countries celebrate “Three Kings Day” with parades and processions, sweets, cakes and presents, along with baptismal rites, house blessings and special church services.
THIS month’s picture choice is a stained-glass window in rural France which captures the essence of the Christmas spirit.
The tiny window is one of a series which can be found in the Church of Reconciliation at the Taizé Community, an extraordinary monastic fraternity which has become a place of pilgrimage for young people from all over the world.
While thousands of young people descend on Taizé at Easter and during the summer holidays, Christmas is traditionally much quieter – so much so that on our last visit in December 2019, we were virtually alone with the monks on the coldest of winter nights.
Flash forward three years and a gruelling pandemic and we’re finally able to return, once again on a frosty winter’s day…but this time classes and discussion groups have resumed and a few dozen young people are able to join the monks for the afternoon service.
It’s a very special place at any time of year, but at Christmas it’s a particular pleasure to rediscover the peace of this extraordinary community where, as Brother Roger put it “kindness of heart and simplicity would be at the centre of everything”.
It’s also a delight to revisit a luxurious hotel only a few miles away which provides a perfect touring base for this beautiful part of Burgundy.
Firmly ensconced by the roaring fire at the Chateau D’Igé, we can banish memories of those icy roads in northern France and relax over an excellent three-course meal.
The food is excellent, the service impeccable and our room extremely comfortable: a perfect overnight break for anyone tackling the gruelling 1,000-mile journey from the UK to the south of France.
DEEP in the heart of rural France lies an extraordinary monastic community which has become a place of pilgrimage for young people from all over the world.
At Easter and in the height of summer, thousands of young people descend on the Taizé Community to join the 100-odd brothers from Catholic and Protestant traditions who are based in this picturesque corner of Burgundy, themselves originating from some 30 countries around the world.
Young pilgrims are encouraged to seek communion with God through community prayer, song, silence, personal reflection and sharing, living in a spirit of kindness, simplicity and reconciliation, with the distinctive music of Taizé providing a backdrop to their prayers.
At Christmas time, there are far fewer guests, but those still on site regularly gather in the community’s church – designed by Taizé member and architect Brother Denis and inaugurated in 1962 – for services featuring songs, psalms and chants in many languages, emphasising simple repeated scriptural phrases.
Founded in 1940 by Brother Roger Schütz, a reformed protestant, Taizé is best known for its youth work and year-round programme of small group discussions and simple life of prayer, song and communal living.
However over the years the brothers have lived in small fraternities among the poor in different parts of the world from India to Brazil, Kenya and Senegal. Young pilgrims are also encouraged to spread the word when they return to their local churches – and the community has also mounted a series of international gatherings of young adults.
OUR November picture choice takes us back to Waddesdon Manor and a moving portrait by Lesley Tilson featured in our calendar feature for that month.
IN MEMORIAM: silhouettes at Waddesdon Manor PICTURE: Lesley Tilson
But while the silhouettes formed part of the Remembrance Day commemorations, staged each year to provide an opportunity to remember those who died in battle, the figures had a particular resonance in a year which saw the death of so many famous UK faces, most notably the Queen.
Hundreds of thousands turned out to pay tribute to Queen Elizabeth II, with a 10-day mourning period during which around a quarter of a million people queued to file past the Queen’s coffin at Westminster Hall the previous month.
But the intense public mourning which marked the Queen’s death was only the most memorable outpouring of grief in a year which also saw the passing of hundreds of iconic figures from actors and musicians to politicians and pop stars.
From Robbie Coltrane, Olivia Newton-John and Angela Lansbury to Sidney Poitier, Meat Loaf, Pele and Shane Warne, the list extended to stars of the small screen like June Brown and Bill Treacher from EastEnders, Dennis Waterman, Bamber Gascoigne and Bernard Cribbins.
The political world lost Mikhail Gorbachev and Japan’s former prime minister Shinzo Abe, while the year came to a close with the death of the former pope, Benedict XVI.
