• Candlemas at Carfax Conduit

    It is the 2nd February, or Candlemas, the date in the church calendar that marks the end of Christmastide and the beginning of spring. And to celebrate my friend, walking companion and expert in all things flora and fauna has taken me on a jaunt to see Candlemas Bells, more widely known as snowdrops, but so nicknamed after the time of year their delicate drooping heads emerge from the darkness of their frozen winter beds. A great place to see them in profusion, she claims, is not far from Oxford in the gardens of Nuneham House. About which I am secretly thrilled. For this is the resting place of the Carfax Conduit, a proud monument that once stood in the very centre of the city. I’d been keen to take a closer look for ages.  

  • A magical mistletoe tour from Magdalen College to Music Meadow

    It’s at this dead time of year that the stuff becomes suddenly visible. When the leaves have fallen from the trees, revealing what appear to be giant birds’ nests perched amongst the fragile beauty of the bare winter branches. But these hanging baskets of vibrant green foliage are in fact huge balls of mistletoe. Magically, mysteriously, bearing fruit even through the shortest and darkest days of the year.

  • Autumn in Oxford

    Autumn has arrived in Oxford. And it is glorious. For the city and its parks are awash with fiery reds, buttery yellows and orange oches.

  • To Worcester College chapel for a lesson in creationism

    My local chapel is at Worcester College, close by to where Beaumont Palace once stood and where two Kings of England were born. It doesn’t look much from the outside. But once through the doors, you cannot fail to be moved by the magnificence of it all, every nook and cranny dripping with elaborate decoration. At once you are hit by a riot of colour, blues, greens, reds, purples, and gold. Lots of gold.

  • A Jar of Jam from King James 1

    I had scrawled the word mulberries across the pages of my calendar for the first week of August. It was to remind me that this was the short window of time that these delicious knobbly clusters more muscular than a blackberry, sweeter than a raspberry, fully ripen and fall from the tree. For I wanted to make jam. Not any old jam mind. This jam was going to be special. A conserve created from the darkened crop of an ancient black mulberry tree.

  • Oxford’s Crinkle Crankle Club

    Hurly burly, higgeldy piggledy, nitty gritty – what’s not to love about these delightful, reduplicative words. They infuse the English language with humour, playfulness and well, a little bit of razzle dazzle. So when I discovered there was such a thing as a crinkle crankle wall and that one resided in Oxford I felt compelled to search it out. Easy peasy I thought.

  • A year in the Parks with Emma Coleman-Jones

    Emma Coleman-Jones draws trees. In all seasons. In all weathers. Come blazing heat, bitter cold, rain, snow or high winds she will be out in the elements, sketchbook in hand looking for that serendipitous moment in time and place when something catches her eye.

  • Springtime on the Cherwell

    On a sunny day last week, I take advantage of the weather to embark on a walk along a stretch of the River Cherwell suggested by my friend Bea. Starting…