Author Archives: Hannah

Mellow September

I love this time of year – the freshness of the mornings, giving way to mild, sunny afternoons, low mists lying across the water meadows by the river, the sculptural forms of seed heads and drying stems. I gathered up … Continue reading

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Growing

Just after I signed off from the blog I had news I could reveal the cover of my latest book, The Tiger Who Sleeps Under My Chair, so here it is in case you missed it on Twitter and Instagram. The … Continue reading

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Light-filled days

The Queen’s Platinum Jubilee feels like a long time ago now. Elizabeth seems a dear old lady, but I have mixed feelings about the institution of monarchy. I lived in Scotland, where the Crown has done some truly terrible things. … Continue reading

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Bang

May started with a bang for us, quite literally. Finch leap-frogged a bollard, didn’t make it, and face-planted the pavement. Amongst the tears and considerable amount of blood, there was a silver lining. Through wet eyes, he grinned at me … Continue reading

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Spy badgers

April has been such a dry month this year. I’d been panicking about sowing my seeds too early at the allotment after the temperature dropped, and then decided I’d maybe done right, glad my sowings had at least got a … Continue reading

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Book news

The other week a bird woke me with its clear song while the day was still dark. Our bedroom double-glazing is badly fitted so we are usually woken by raucous seagulls or the revving engines of the early-shift workers heading … Continue reading

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Through train windows

I’ve landed in a heap at this weekend, and I’ve so much to tell you. I’ve been sitting here, Wren at my side, trying to craft it all into some sort of narrative but February has passed in a blur … Continue reading

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Spuds

Around this time of year my Instagram feed fills with pictures of chitting potatoes from like-minded grow-your-own-ers. I love it! So here’s mine, and my treasure trove, box of seeds. I had a go at collecting quite a few of … Continue reading

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Time

Time. It’s a slippery thing. There have been seasons of my life where I’ve had too much of it, waiting for it to pass, knowing that each ticking second is a second’s worth of healing, or a countdown to freedom. … Continue reading

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Blessings

January often sees me turning reflective, seeking out essayists like Kathleen Jamie and Alistair McIntosh, to give me the words and images to navigate the dark winter days. Old folk songs sing of the ‘ghosts’ that visit us at this … Continue reading

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