Author Archives: Hannah

Water

It is April and the rain continues to poor. Growers and farmers bemoan the wet and the burgeoning mollusc population. I looked for those precious bright days that often pepper March, but they did not appear. Anyone who works outside … Continue reading

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Orchard planting day

When I imagined us planting the orchard at Pocket, I’d imagined a still, dry weekend, everyone gathered together, savouring planting the trees slowly and carefully, retreating to the Home Glade to graze on a spread of home-baked goodies beside the … Continue reading

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One year on

Friday marked one whole year since The Tiger Who Sleeps Under My Chair hit bookshop shelves. I spent that day visiting schools and bookshops to talk about the book and sign copies. The following week I would visit more schools … Continue reading

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Shining moon

The darkest days of the year are the weeks either side of the winter solstice, when not just the light seems to have been sucked out of the sky in the UK, but also the colour from everything. During this … Continue reading

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An acorn

Finch stuck a perfect golden acorn to his bedroom door with blue tack. Right in the middle, where his nose might hit the door, if he didn’t stop to open it. He didn’t say a thing about it. It just … Continue reading

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Still

Two thirds of the windows of our half-term holiday let are filled with sky, the remainder with the rise and fall of the tide in the estuary. Just up the road, great rollers unfurl onto the shore with plumes of … Continue reading

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Bells

Thursday evening is bell ringing practice in the parish church behind our house. One of my favourite things is to open one of the velux windows in the attic, and lean out, listening. The waning Harvest Moon lights up a … Continue reading

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September

Skeins of geese fly over the roof tops, honking gentle encouragement to each other. It is a time of change in the natural world as creatures all over the planet follow the irresistible, internal tug to migrate. The geese trace … Continue reading

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Voles

I rolled bundles of hay across the slope to make haycocks to keep the rain off and allow the grasses to continue drying. For those that know hay, it’s not really. It’s fibrous weedy stuff from species-rich grassland we optimistically … Continue reading

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Toad in the log pile

I was moving logs from the chopping block to the log store. The wood had been chopped the day before and a toad had taken up residence. I almost didn’t see him, then he was there, and completely impossible to … Continue reading

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