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A rewilding diary by Emily Warner: introduction
Glen Affric, where I have been based for my research, contains one of the largest remnants of Caledonian forest. Now reduced by centuries of human exploitation to scattered pockets, this habitat is home to a host of the UK’s wildest and rarest plants and animals.
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A Year in Kingcombe by Anita Roy: October
Kingcombe is not just a place for enjoying the natural world, but for changing the way we view it, for telling new stories about our relationship with it.
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Westernmost by Nicholas Herrmann
The house sits atop a hill, half a mile inland off an unnamed road. Around it: fields, ferns, gorse hedgerows.
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supper song, a new poem by Holly Corfield Carr
a call, a choral, a corral,
a mud midwife, en caul
for luck, for luc, a fluke
of light uphill, an appel,
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Under African Skies by Jini Reddy
England was the country of my birth, but my parents, who were of Indian descent, were born in South Africa.
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The Blasted Heath: loss and lawlessness in Middlesex by Jon Woolcott
Amongst a tangle of roads, a little blue sign declares a bike path: “Heathrow Airport: ½ mile.” Who on earth rides to Heathrow? Today, I do.
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Anthropocene TV by Adam Scovell
A sense of collapse more than change is at the heart of many of these dramas, perhaps suggesting that the melodramatic turn of such environmental catastrophe has made it seem too big, incomprehensible or unsolvable to avert.
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A Year in Kingcombe by Anita Roy: September
The world was alive, rushing and swooping along with the last three swifts of summer like skipping stones across a green and storm-tossed sea.
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Under a Gooseberry Bush; more new poems by Raine Geoghegan
Patrin – leaves, to be tied up and left on trees by the roadside to let family know which way the wagons went.
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A Peck of Dirt by Tim Dee
Paul saw his moment. He pressed the launch button and the net cannoned over the gulls. They lifted as one as soon as it rose above them.
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Coal Measures by Paul Evans
What dies in the coal forest falls into the water: horsetails, tree ferns, dragonflies and crocodiles rot under the surface of the swamp.
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A Year in Kingcombe by Anita Roy: August
The hottest, driest June on record had simply extended unbroken into July…
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