Every day, red kites and buzzards fly around an old tree stump in my garden, looking to see if there is food for them to take.  Often there is: besides (safe) scraps that may be left, death is a fact of life in a wildlife garden, and here a vole or any creature that is found dead is placed upon the stump, respectfully, and given the chance of new life through natural recycling. 

In recent days a young heron has been visiting my ponds, hunting in the shallows waiting for a frog or newt to appear.  It is a shy, beautiful creature, a bird of the water and so of feminine emotion and of Spirit.

As Mercury begins his backward movement once again, his disruptive influence is being felt in many ways, overshadowing the days around the celebration of Valentine, the public, and private, time for the expression of love.  In this mode of regression he highlights often uncomfortably what we need to see, confusing our established reality to help us see the truth beneath the illusion.  All noticeable occurrences or coincidences are a lesson or reminder, including that of love. 

Autumn is lingering here in the Cambrian Mountains:  leaves are magnificent in their fire colours still, and the trees that carry them are bedecked with a multitude of berry jewels, so many that the flocks of fieldfares and redwings arriving for their winter sanctuary are unable to strip them bare.  The table of nature overflows and there is plenty for everybody.

Blessings come in many forms, and at this critical time in our world history it helps to remember that amidst the uncertainties and challenges confronting us every day much is happening that is good.

Sir David Attenborough said yesterday, at the Edinburgh International Television Festival, “I feel better than ever about life on Earth.”

It was only last night that I learned, to my surprise and delight, that a hare is living in my garden.

My preparations for Spring are almost done. The nest boxes have been cleaned, repaired and new ones put up; the lawn mower is in for servicing; wild flower seeds are growing in the warmth of the Conservatory; the hedges have been trimmed; and the ponds have been cleared of old lilies and other pond plants. It is very satisfying.

It was suggested to me recently that it would be an excellent idea to introduce a floating island onto my pond, in order to provide a platform for water voles and a haven for newts and other wildlife.

I was honoured, this weekend, to be invited to be a witness at an ancient ceremonial event, one that has taken place, year after year, in every county in England and Wales since before the Norman Conquest. It was a wonderful, moving event attended by high ranking dignitaries and people whose families have been part of this Welsh community for centuries. Tradition mixed with local history perfectly, and yet, despite the joyousness of the occasion, there were hints of the great divide in this country life over the environment: of how the environment is dividing society.