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Here's a thing. If a wild animal comes into a garden, it's wildlife. If a wild plant comes in, it's a weed. Now that seems just a bit unfair on our native flora.Admittedly, an animal can be considered a pest, but many are regarded as helpful

I thought my garden was already quite a haven for mammals, birds and insects, but there is always more you can do for them. With this in mind I've just registered to take part in the RSPB Homes for Wildlife scheme. After answering a few brief

My father, from whom I get my interest in wildlife, often bemoans the fact that there is nothing left in the countryside these days. He fondly remembers fields awash with butterflies and heavens full of skylarks. But he's never one bit surprised

sitting in their centrally heated kitchens, but since it is part of the natural order, wildlife ought to be expected to cope with it each year. However, it is the false start, which is perhaps the most dangerous weather phenomenon. The biological clock

of wildlife. The back garden is just 30 square metres of close-mown lawn and the front garden has just a few neat beds of geraniums and some small decorative cypresses. It's a holiday bungalow, so the garden is kept to a maintenance-free minimum

salvage for the crumble.We don't have the most regimented of gardens, in fact it's a bit wild sometimes. But wildlife is, by definition, wild. As I said in the magazine, it has no time for straight lines, clipped edges, smart displays, or level lawns. We

when I was carrying out a wildlife survey for London Underground. As well as the subterranean tube lines, the overground commuter rail network extends right out of the capital. I was able to get to a whole host of places completely off limits

I’m afraid I’ve been rather disparaging about fat balls and landscape gardeners again. It all came out at the Kent Wildlife Conference, held on Saturday at the University of Greenwich’s swanky new Medway Campus, down in Chatham.The theme

It's cold, there's snow on the ground, and all is quiet in the garden. But I've just been outside feeding the wildlife. In my case that does not mean putting up nut-filled bird feeders or hanging fat balls, it means tipping the kitchen waste

I have cats. Every so often I have to live with the guilt that they kill the local wildlife. It's usually one of the mice breeding in the compost heaps or a blue-tit fledgling. The main hunter is the black and white one; lovely and soft and over