I have been watching an oak tree for over two hours. It’s gone midnight, and it’s now so dark that the tree is no more than a hazy silhouette. I’m meant to be recording bat activity in and around the tree, but by this point in the morning the whole thing seems pretty futile. The bat detector I’m holding might register their ultrasonic calls, but I can’t see if the bats are flying into the tree,...
(The title of this piece has been borrowed from Arthur C. Clarke.) Writing when sleep deprived is not the best of ideas, but I’m fired up from the events of last night (23rd-24th April, 2023). All the reports suggested an intense CME (coronal mass ejection - a large cloud of magnetised plasma from the outermost surface of the Sun’s atmosphere) was heading our way. Before darkness had even set...
I wrote this piece in February, 2023. The original version was published on Mark Avery's website. I have edited it slightly since then, but the majority remains the same. Mark has also written a blog about Linnets, which can be read here. The sky is the colour of a Wood Pigeon’s back. The air fizzes with mizzle. After breakfast, I drop my car to our local garage to be fixed, then run the lanes...
There are many things to feel nostalgic for as our world heats up. Near the top of my list is frost. Frost is magic. Its formation, although easily explained, seems akin to alchemy. Crudely put, when ground temperatures fall below freezing, water vapour in the air condenses into ice crystals. These crystals, which start as hexagonal prisms, can shift and morph into numerous symmetrical shapes,...
Having seen the Aurora Borealis from the Devon-Dorset border last month, it seems almost impossible that I’ve seen it from Devon again. Yet, on the 23rd - 24th of March 2023, the Earth was struck by a geomagnetic storm so strong it caused bright aurorae to ripple through the atmosphere. It was even visible, I’m reliably told, from as far south as Phoenix, Arizona. I had no idea it was going to...
And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils. - William Wordsworth Wild Daffodils, (Narcissus pseudonarcissus) are not as numerous as they once were. Like many of our native plants, they have struggled to compete with agricultural intensification, habitat loss and hybridisation. Where they have hung on, however, they can be locally abundant, forming carpets of buttery...
Last spring, and the one before that, I spent a number of nights on high hills looking west. I could hear Redwings above me, their thin calls raining down as they journeyed back to Scandinavia. I was looking for the zodiacal light, a faint glow created by sunlight reflecting off dust particles in the inner solar system. Scientists think this dust originated on Mars, swept so high during fierce...
For years now, I have diligently taken myself out when there’s a chance of seeing the Aurora Borealis to stand beneath the night sky, only to get cold, tired and ultimately, give up and go home to bed. It’s the trouble with living down south. The aurora seldom reaches this far. Scotland and northern counties might well be admiring the dancing lights, but at 50º north, my chances are...
I cannot settle. The low, heavy-bellied clouds that were here this morning have given way to a bright, sunny day. The wind has dropped, and I can’t shake the feeling that staying inside will mean I’ll miss something I’ve promised myself I’ll try to see. At midday, I throw in the towel and head out on my bike. I haven’t got too far to travel, but my old bike is rickety and makes cycling hard. It...
I have spent too much time on social media these past few weeks, eyes to a screen instead of the sky, my camera left by the front door as the hours passed, poorly. But this morning, in an attempt to see once more, I picked it up and went into the garden. There had been a hard frost overnight, each leaf and stem coated in thick, white ice. An icing sugar landscape. Fern frost, reminiscent of the...