I WRITE in my office, a log cabin in dense jungle by the beach, away from the tyranny of domestic emergencies. In July, it is covered by bright white tresses of rambling rose and the surrounding trees are ringing with thrushes, complementing the gentle piping of the oystercatchers. It is a satisfactory arrangement, although it sometimes means getting wet on my way to work.
Today was a sprint through biblical rain and I am sitting in damp clothes. Whether it is because the earth was corrupt before the Lord and filled with violence' or some more prosaic reason, it is beginning to feel as if the Almighty is bent on sending us 'forty days and forty nights of rain' in one of those periodic bouts of precipitation that happen from time to time to sharpen us up and chasten us for taking good weather for granted.
Esta historia es de la edición July 19, 2023 de Country Life UK.
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Esta historia es de la edición July 19, 2023 de Country Life UK.
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Tales as old as time
By appointing writers-in-residence to landscape locations, the National Trust is hoping to spark in us a new engagement with our ancient surroundings, finds Richard Smyth
Do the active farmer test
Farming is a profession, not a lifestyle choice’ and, therefore, the Budget is unfair
Night Thoughts by Howard Hodgkin
Charlotte Mullins comments on Moght Thoughts
SOS: save our wild salmon
Jane Wheatley examines the dire situation facing the king of fish
Into the deep
Beneath the crystal-clear, alien world of water lie the great piscean survivors of the Ice Age. The Lake District is a fish-spotter's paradise, reports John Lewis-Stempel
It's alive!
Living, burping and bubbling fermented masses of flour, yeast and water that spawn countless loaves—Emma Hughes charts the rise and rise) of sourdough starters
There's orange gold in them thar fields
A kitchen staple that is easily taken for granted, the carrot is actually an incredibly tricky customer to cultivate that could reduce a grown man to tears, says Sarah Todd
True blues
I HAVE been planting English bluebells. They grow in their millions in the beechwoods that surround us—but not in our own garden. They are, however, a protected species. The law is clear and uncompromising: ‘It is illegal to dig up bluebells or their bulbs from the wild, or to trade or sell wild bluebell bulbs and seeds.’ I have, therefore, had to buy them from a respectable bulb-merchant.
Oh so hip
Stay the hand that itches to deadhead spent roses and you can enjoy their glittering fruits instead, writes John Hoyland
A best kept secret
Oft-forgotten Rutland, England's smallest county, is a 'Notswold' haven deserving of more attention, finds Nicola Venning
