Forever autumn

Is it the end of summer or the beginning of autumn? The steep hedgerows are a deep emerald and lack the early summer colours of dead nettles, yellow archangel and garlic mustard. A huge sycamore proudly brandishes its red stems, which stand out magnificently in the greenery. There’s a flicker of red in the sea of green and a pair of ruddy darter dragonflies emerge to wrestle in mid air. A stiff north wind picks up, driving the darters and the summer sun away. The thistles’ purple flowers have disappeared - bad news for bees but brilliant for birds, and I notice goldfinch and greenfinch gnawing at the cotton wool seed heads. I cross into another field where a hedge keeps the wind at bay and the season switches back to summer, golden stubble providing rich pickings for birds from crows to great tits. Walking along the verge of the next empty, ploughed field, autumn seems set to stay, and the bleak browns which will carry through to winter dominate. But there’s colour in the hedgerow: beautiful, bountiful colour - sloe and hawthorn laden with blue and red berries and rich, succulent blackberries hidden under fiery rosehips.

Hare today...gone tomorrow

From the savannah-like grassland, burnt and browned by the late summer sun, Europe’s cheetah emerges. First some black ears and yellow eyes then some white feet and a tail. The brown hare is the fastest mammal in Europe, reaching speeds of 45 mph, however due to loss of habitat it has been steadily declining. It moves quickly and cautiously, ears twitching, eyes darting, feet pounding silently on the dry grass. It is startled and dives into the meadow, the swallows are chattering as the hobby glides past, yet I focus on the hare, invisible in the swaying stems of scabious. The minutes pass before it emerges again, hugging the meadow at all times. It then plucks up enough courage to cross the garden to the vegetable plot, looking around nervously it wanders in, eyeing up the cabbages greedily. Normally I would run in and scare off the intruder at this point, but today I just watch the animal nibble the crop-it’s not everyday that you get a hare coming for tea.