"I never leave the farm in May"
May is the farm at its most alive—light stretching, hedges bursting, birds singing. A month too beautiful, and too fleeting, to spend anywhere else.
May is the farm at its most alive—light stretching, hedges bursting, birds singing. A month too beautiful, and too fleeting, to spend anywhere else.
These days, we have an intensely complicated relationship with predators of any sort – even more so when it comes to reintroducing them.
One of Wales' greatest natural resources is disappearing.
Keen young stalkers' rifles are gathering dust while deer populations continue to rise
A troll is a troll, no matter which side of the bridge you are on.