Winter now. All the old sounds again. Mist beading on the bough and tap tap tapping to the ground. The Velcro scratch of dead leaves. Bleurgh, says the sodden bird. Wind lurches off the Atlantic and trips on this little …
Black panthers are roaming Britain
Last summer, I was driving along a country road at dusk when a great, black cat appeared in front of me. Far longer than any Labrador, it slunk demurely across the path and into a hedgerow. I turned at once …