Autumn is on its way. Already the colours of the trees are shifting to the golds and browns and yellows, and the leaves crunch underfoot.

The third of our 5 rural reads: Christopher Hadley's detailed investigation into mythology and landscape in rural Hertfordshire.

Over the last year of working from home, we have been photographing the same corner of a nearby field, watching it change with the seasons.

The second of our 5 rural reads: Isabella Tree's fascinating and enthusiastic account of rewilding a 3,500 acre farm in Sussex.

There is something about that first day of Spring. You know there will still be some colder, darker days ahead, but this day is a gift.

The first of our 5 rural reads: Robert MacFarlane's observative acrostic poems combined with Jackie Morris's characterful illustrations.

Since the beginning of 2021, I’ve been trying to spend more time focused on the present moment. Creating rituals out of daily tasks.

The larder is the heart of the kitchen in winter. We have been filling it with grains, preserves and drinks, and now it's time to enjoy!

Over the years, we have been drawn to books on the theme of rural writing and the natural world. Welcome to our 2021 rural reads!

Snow formed the backdrop for one of my most treasured childhood memories. It saddens me that White Christmases may be coming to an end.

One morning two weeks ago, we opened the curtains to find the garden sprinkled with a dusting of snow.

Slow-cooking is my favourite reason to the in the kitchen. There is something more wholesome about this type of food.

Pull your chair a little closer to the fire and listen carefully as I tell the history of the Jack-O'-Lantern.

On 9th July this year, we woke to find that a 300 hundred year old oak tree at the edge of Ten Acre Field had fallen in the night.

It's important that – among the hustle and bustle of our modern lives – we take the time to slow down and really enjoy a cup of tea.

There is something otherworldly about stepping into dense woodland. Like taking the wrong path, and accidentally stumbling into faerie.

After almost 100 days of lockdown, I have come to realise that there is no "right way" to “do quarantine”. It is different for everyone.

My ritual for Summer Solstice is to see the whole day - from sunrise to sunset - and to dedicate the intervening 16 hours to celebration.

Often taken for granted, cow parsley is a staple of countryside verges: tiny flowers like white paint splattered amongst the greenery.

I think I am about to make us very unpopular: Our suburb is most definitely a 'nettle-free zone', but I am about to change all that!