The roe doe is the spirit of the edge of the wood this bright and mellow May evening. And what on earth, you might well ask, do I mean by that? […]

Sometimes I thirst for the company of swans. It is fair to say that wild swans in a wild setting can summon me into a state of thraldom unique in […]

Suddenly the glen bursts free from its straitjacket of commission spruces into a climbing arena garbed in well-spaced, hand-planted, young Scots pines – the good and the bad of the […]

“Midwinter and all dulled but the wind and the stars. The dead of the dark winter; stretching behind me the dim patch of silent days alone. The wind is a […]

The wind is dry ice, the sky is pewter-grey and heavily pregnant with unborn snow. The dusk thickens too fast amid the old drifts that patch the hillside. There is […]

With the 500th anniversary of Flodden and the 700th anniversary of Bannockburn behind us, you should know that Scotland is being invaded by the English yet again. It is the […]

It was still early when the garden erupted. The eruption woke me up. I lay still for a few moments trying to rationalise the sound through the dregs of sleep. […]

I love September because every year it saves me from an overdose of summer. By the time September dawns, or at least by the time it has got a week […]

In August pinewoods go all drowsy on me, flat-footed and weary like an old dog. I know this trait of pinewoods of old. I have, after all, been here before. I […]