My father passed away very recently. It is he who ignited in me a passion for the natural world. He was thrilled when I took on my role in Finemere Wood and always showed a keen supportive interest in my work there.

Living close by, he was able to accompany me on many a patrol around Finemere, engaging with my obsession for wild flowers and patiently helping me to identify birds.

These times were such a joy for us both. I shall forever miss his companionship and ever-present love. This one is for you, Dad.

In a chaotic and unpredictable world, where we are troubled by war, pandemics, and personal loss, I find comfort in the wilderness. The essence of Finemere Wood is immutable: it is reassuring and grounding.

Spring in Finemere Wood in 2022, as in all those years that have gone before, was heralded by beguiling blooms of wood anemone, primroses, and violets, bringing the first splashes of colour to the winter-ravaged woodland.

The exquisite early purple orchids, first spotted in the wood eight years ago, have increased in number once again, due to diligent habitat management by the volunteer team.

The migrant warblers arrived and together with resident birds; robin, wren, and chaffinch, the crescendo of bird song delighted us anew.

The magic carpet of bluebells, as always, captivated those who wandered the woodland paths. Dad, determined as ever and despite physical challenges, made the annual pilgrimage to see these beauties.

Stunning summer flowers soon followed; common spotted orchids, meadowsweet, and devil’s bit scabious, the wood burst into life and colour. Butterflies, amongst them, silver-washed fritillary, gatekeeper, and purple emperor, fluttered down the woodland rides enticing us to follow.

The volunteers, year after year, work in rhythm with nature. Spring sees us fencing around newly cleared areas to protect fresh new growth from the nibbles of deer.

In summer, when the wood must be left to flourish, there is stock fencing to be replaced, signs to be installed, waymarkers to be fixed. As the summer draws to an end, the scythes work overtime to cut back the grassy rides and paths.

Autumn arrives and the clearing of scrub and trees in selected areas can begin again. Winter, and we work harder and harder to keep warm.

The woodland workers are predictable and reliable. Week after week they turn up. The world and its worries are left behind whilst they work alongside Mother Nature. The friendships are warm and caring.

How fortunate I feel to have such companions in this beautiful wild place. Here my soul will be soothed.

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