1970s
THE HIDDEN LIFE OF TREES (1970) People have talked a lot about what an amazingly fully-formed and confident debut 'The Hidden Life Of Trees' was but what is often forgotten is that I'd been around the block more than a few times by this point. I&
avian
I’d just shoved a holistic scientist into a flower bed and, with night coming down fast, was wondering about the best way to get her out of the flower bed, without speaking to her. If I spoke to the holistic scientist, who was one of the leaders of the
bats
5th April, 2016One socially awkward problem with being of a somewhat dozy nature, having poor eyesight and living near a friendly small town is that people you know often see you long before you see them. That is, if you see them at all. I’m always worried about being
arthur conan doyle
The floor of the kitchen in the house I rent is hard-worn and wooden, with dark splotches and a slightly uneven texture to it. I’m very fond of it, but when it comes to feeding my four cats it can be both a blessing and a curse. On the
coastal erosion
It’s cold and wet when I arrive at Dunwich: miscellaneous fragments of tree and bin and fence are flying through the air and everyone who is or has been outside - which is essentially me, a bold crow and about three other people - looks like they’ve just
badgers
The tawny owls in the trees around my house have been in fine voice recently. Usually, there’s a fairly even split between the sexes - the high-pitched female tawnies with their “to-wits” (which is actually more like “to-WEEEEEET” in reality) and the more bassy and insouciant male tawnies with
countryside
“What’s this?” I asked my dad. He’d just walked into the living room with several canvases under his arm. On top of the pile was a watercolour painting featuring Winnie The Pooh and Piglet walking through a dark underpass hand-in-hand while three somewhat grotesque, mean-faced men in trenchcoats
boscastle
I was walking along the clifftops a couple of miles west of Boscastle in Cornwall last month when a dog rocketed out of a farmer’s field directly into my path, with a look of rare industry and resolve. I don’t know exactly what make of dog it was,
close encounters of the furred kind
Often it's only upon seeing photographic evidence that you realise just how long you've been working on your novel. This year marks my twentieth anniversary of being a published writer, so I thought it was as good a time as any to jot down some thoughts
cat care
“Whenever I was a child I wondered what if my name had changed into something more productive like Roscoe,” sing the band Midlake on their haunting, bucolic 2006 song ‘Roscoe’. When my then girlfriend and I were listening to the song in spring 2012 and decided to name our new
close encounters of the furred kind
There had been quite a bit of speculation amongst my dad’s mates at swimming concerning when his black toenail would fall off. Looking at how precariously it was hanging there on their last swim before Christmas, his friends Pat and Malcolm suggested that today could be the big day.
black dogs
I was waiting for a call from the vet to find out if my cat had survived an operation to save her life so I took myself out of the house and onto Dartmoor. It was no sane weather to be on the moor, but it felt like the right