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elbows whenever I go past. It's a tough old brute. So I have no worries at all that it is being attacked by a battalion of major garden pests.It's been very mild this winter so it's no surprise that things are already active. The new leaf shoots

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

cycle, surviving the winter in the silk-cocooned egg stage, Tegenaria females can live for several years, a result of living in those sheltered voids and avoiding the extremes of wet and cold suffered by outdoor species.I once very cavalierly picked up

an overwintering chrysalis. This butterfly is unique among our British species in that it hibernates in both caterpillar and chrysalis stage. Those that spent winter as a caterpillar will have a bit of catching up to do and should start emerging in May.On Sunday

it does not flit from flower to flower like a butterfly. But it flies readily if disturbed from its not-very-camouflaged position on a leaf, wall, fence, window, car, no-parking sign, bollard or brightly coloured plastic bin full of winter salt/grit mix

on to their precious cargo. I'm not too worried about the grass, but I am concerned that without the damp September air, will I get to see any autumnal wildlife?I photographed these ink caps, Coprinus comatus, a few years ago in Brenchley Gardens in Nunhead

species, I did not get close enough), a cloud of winter gnats (Trichocera species) were dancing over the middle of the lawn, and several flies were dying like flies around the pond.I really value my garden wildlife, but I have to admit that it is not all

high up on the trunk of an old tree at the edge of the clearing. It’s a nuthatch. From this distance its grey-blue plumage makes it look elegant and sleek, rather than the ‘plump’ suggested by all the birding guides. Maybe it’s just had a tough winter

their acrobatics.It is a strange habit of these endearing and pretty little birds that, come winter, they congregate together in mixed-species flocks. And sure enough, as I struggle to adjust the focusing to keep up with their quick movements, I can make out a

of wildlife down there. The Rye is a tad bigger than my back garden, so I can usually find something different.The first thing we see is a fox, loitering about the 'cat house'. As we reach the impenetrable front garden I can hear it walking about in the deep