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.

Good news on wildlife is scarce these days, and so to learn about the survival and recovery of the red squirrel population in the UK is heartening. It is more than just about red squirrels, however, – the scientific conclusions have implications for all of nature.

Leadership comes in many forms, and for too long it has been associated with power through politics, and money, and sometimes status too; many of those with these attributes of leadership have used the power vested in them for personal profit, in a sad betrayal of trust, and it is remarkable to find a prominent public figure who is determined to fight not just for what is right, but for the neglected cause of wildlife.

Where I live in the heart of Wales, the local landowners are generous with their wish to help this scattered, remote community, and its special environment, supporting the wildlife trusts and letting the nature groups use their estates from time to time. A  walk was organised this weekend, to a 16^th century manor which is frozen in time: the home farm is as it was 300 years ago, still in use but a little derelict here and there, and for that reason a perfect home for rare bats, birds and mammals; while the extensive Victorian kitchen gardens lie overgrown and dormant, a secret heaven for wildlife.