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home there. Don't straighten the log pile or alphabetise the flower pots; don't deadhead all the seed capsules or cut back all the wilting leaves; don't fell all the dead wood or grub up the old stump. Instead, leave straggly bits of long grass, leave

the bees making their cuts with such speed and precision.Despite the depredations of all these insects, the rose goes from strength to strength and gives a drift of hearty flowers each summer.

intensive farming, as grazing becomes heavier and cutting for silage replaces hay meadows and their associated wild flowers. There is plenty of farming hereabouts, but the land is emptier and the grip of agriculture is less tight. It's perhaps as the Weald

to chalk up 15 of my 124 target actions. These are mostly by the simple expedient of not cutting the grass, not winter deadheading, clearing out the pond when I repaired it and by having more than my fair share of thickets.The thickets are obviously paying

It’s life and death out there on the ivy at the moment. The far corner of our garden is a sheltered sun-trap, and the fence is now smothered in ivy flowers. The air is thick with the heavy scent of the blossoms, and the lazy buzzing of insects

of pale, blousy flowers for the last 10 years.The rest of the garden has matured a bit since then, so we can afford a bit of bare wood before we decide what to do next. And, in removing the tangled stems, we uncovered a series of pale opalescent pearls

blues, and speckled woods.The hoverflies have appeared in earnest, and bumbles, wasps and solitary bees are everywhere. There is an audible hum, usually only heard in June. They are all squabbling over the raspberry flowers. Pond-skaters are frolicking