At the end of July we moved from the windy North Cornish coast to the southern side of Mid-Cornwall. Although we’re only a few miles from the town and the coast, we’ve swapped a terrace for a 200yr old granite stone cottage in the middle of a wooded valley. My noisy DIY obsessed neighbours are replaced by the hum of bees, the conversation of the nearby stream and the nosy robins who follow me around our acre of land. Come nightfall, the tawny owls duet to one another and the foxes scream. This move is quite a gamble for us professionally, a well earned tonic mentally, and knackering physically (there’s…
As estranged from nature as we’ve become, I find you can’t help but become enraptured by spring. I’ve picked two poems penned by my great grandmother who loved to write about nature. One is about springtime and the other is about Dartmoor, a rugged moorland in Devon.