September’s Nature Highlights: Autumn Is Coming
There is something about September that feels like a turning point.
Summer might not officially be over just yet, and we can still be treated to the occasional beautifully warm day, but the signs of autumn are beginning to creep in. The mornings feel different. The evenings start drawing in. Acorns appear beneath the trees, apples hang heavily from branches, and suddenly there seem to be spiders absolutely everywhere.
So, for September’s Nature Highlights, I have chosen five things that, to me, simply shout:
Autumn is coming.
This month we are exploring hedgehogs, apples, oak trees, squirrels and spiders.
Some I absolutely adore.
One I appreciate considerably more from a distance.
Hedgehogs
Hedgehogs are one of my absolute favourite animals.
They are ridiculously cute while somehow also being incredibly fierce, all wrapped up in one tiny, spiky package.
I particularly love when a hedgehog finds its way into the garden and the first you know about your little visitor is the incredibly loud snuffling coming from somewhere in the darkness.
Seriously, how can such a small creature make so much noise while eating?
Some of my core childhood memories involve hedgehogs.
One was finding a hedgehog wandering around the car park outside my childhood home. It had apparently taken a wrong turn from the nearby woods and needed a little help finding its way back. Thankfully there were no injuries, it was just slightly lost, bless it, and we were able to help it safely back towards the woodland.
But my favourite hedgehog memory has to come from camping as a child.
One night we were woken up to discover that a hedgehog had somehow made its way inside the tent.
And where was our unexpected guest?
Happily sitting on top of the loaf of bread.
Apparently we were running a hedgehog bed and breakfast without realising it.
Unsurprisingly, the following night all the food was moved into the car.
Which, naturally, was the night there was an enormous downpour.
Everyone woke up in the early hours and discovered that not only was it pouring with rain, but every single bit of food and drink was safely locked away in the car.
Not even a tea bag was within reach.
All because of a hedgehog and its midnight bread adventure.
Back then, we were always told that if you wanted to help a hedgehog you should leave out a saucer of bread and milk, so that is exactly what we did in an attempt to persuade our visitor that eating outside the tent was preferable.
Of course, we now know that bread and milk aren't suitable foods for hedgehogs. These days, if one visits my garden, I offer wet or dry cat food, or proper hedgehog food if I happen to have some left over from previous visitors, alongside fresh water.
More recently, we had a rather less cheerful hedgehog encounter. Last year, I found a poorly hedgehog tucked underneath a conifer in my front garden. With our cat taking far too much interest in the unexpected visitor, our first priority was getting the hedgehog somewhere safe, so we carefully scooped it up into a large flower pot while we worked out what to do.
Once we could look at it properly, it was obvious that something wasn't right. One of its eyes was oozing, and several patches of spines were missing from its back, which looked as though they may have been the result of an attack.
Thankfully, it perked up considerably when we offered some wet cat food, which was lovely to see. But food alone obviously wasn't going to fix the problem, so we took our little visitor to a local wildlife hospital, where it could receive the proper medical care it needed.
It was a very different experience from the healthy, noisy hedgehogs I've encountered over the years, but also a reminder of why noticing the wildlife around us can be so important. Sometimes simply spotting that an animal is behaving unusually, or appearing somewhere we wouldn't expect to see it, gives us the opportunity to get it the help it needs.
My hedgehog connection even followed me into adulthood. When I volunteered with my local Scout group as a support leader for a while, I was given the code name:
Hedgehog.
I was very happy with that one.
Spiders
Now we move onto a creature I have a slightly more complicated relationship with.
Spiders.
They creep me out.
I know they are useful. I know they are fascinating. I know they play an important role in our ecosystems.
But why do the big house spiders insist on sprinting across my living room floor late at night?
There is something particularly autumnal about spiders, though.
On cool autumn mornings, their webs become covered in tiny droplets of dew. When the sunlight catches them, the whole web can look as though it has been decorated with hundreds of tiny diamonds.
Absolutely beautiful.
The spider itself can remain elsewhere.
My most memorable encounter with a spider happened during another childhood holiday.
We were staying in a converted barn in the Welsh countryside. I had gone to bed as usual when suddenly my leg felt itchy.
Without thinking, I reached down to scratch it.
Except...
I didn't scratch my leg.
I petted a spider.
A rather large, black house spider that was probably twice the size of the ones I usually encounter.
I am fairly certain that the speed and height at which I launched myself out of that bed while screaming could have qualified as some sort of combined high jump and long jump record.
Since that night, I have never gone to bed without shaking out the duvet and giving the mattress and sheets a quick check first.
Some childhood experiences really do stay with you.
Apples
Now onto something much safer.
Apples.
I love apples.
There are so many ways to eat them that I genuinely don't think they get enough credit.
Have you ever tried an apple slice gently fried in butter with a little cinnamon?
Or apple dipped in peanut butter?
Then, of course, there is one of my personal favourites:
Homemade apple crumble.
Plain apple crumble is lovely, but you can add sultanas and cinnamon, mix the apples with blackberries, or combine them with rhubarb.
All served with custard, obviously.
Apples also remind me of childhood picnics.
There always seemed to be an apple pie or apple lattice pie packed somewhere amongst the picnic food. They were ideal because unlike chocolate-covered treats, they didn't turn into a melted disaster on warm days.
My younger childhood home also had a crab apple tree growing in the car park — very close, actually, to where we once found that wandering hedgehog.
At this time of year, it would be absolutely covered in fruit.
Unfortunately, the wasps also thought this was fantastic.
I appreciate that wasps have an important role in nature.
I would simply prefer them to perform that role slightly further away from me.
Oak Trees
There is something incredibly special about an old oak tree.
Whenever I see a particularly large or ancient one, I can't help wondering:
How much has this tree seen?
What has happened around it during its lifetime?
How many generations of people have walked beneath its branches?
How many animals have relied upon it for food, shelter or somewhere to raise their young?
Outside my parents' home stands a huge oak tree. When I lived there, there always seemed to be a woodpecker somewhere nearby, and in the evenings we would hear a tawny owl.
I'm fairly sure bats have used it too, perhaps tucked away in one of the many high-up nooks and crannies.
Then autumn arrives and so do the acorns.
Lots and lots of acorns.
The cars parked underneath the tree probably don't appreciate them quite as much as I do.
Throughout autumn you regularly hear:
DONK.
Another acorn hitting a car roof.
As a child, though, acorns meant something completely different.
I would collect the little acorn cups and use them as bowls in the tiny fairy houses I made.
Even now, I still automatically think of them as fairy cups.
Some names are simply too good to grow out of.
Squirrels
Finally, we have squirrels.
Who doesn't love watching a squirrel?
Their antics are endlessly entertaining.
You can buy the most supposedly squirrel-proof bird feeder imaginable and somewhere, somehow, a squirrel will view it as a personal engineering challenge.
Before long it will be hanging upside down by one foot while somehow still managing to reach the food.
Then there are the chases around tree trunks, the sudden leaps between branches and the frantic autumn activity as they collect and cache food.
One of my favourite squirrel memories happened while I was walking home from the park with my children.
We spotted a squirrel sitting on a fence.
Eating an entire slice of toast.
We have absolutely no idea where it obtained this toast.
Somewhere nearby, presumably, somebody had lost part of their breakfast.
The sight of this little squirrel calmly sitting there enjoying its stolen toast had all of us giggling.
The large oak tree outside my parents' house also once had a particularly unusual visitor…. an albino squirrel.
Completely white.
For a while, it appeared almost like clockwork. I haven't seen it for several years now, but it was always incredible to watch.
I also have a particular fondness for red squirrels.
Who doesn't?
I've been lucky enough to see a few in the wild as well as at conservation centres, and they are absolutely beautiful. Their little faces are so dainty, and those fluffy, tufted ears are impossible not to love.
What Will You Notice This September?
So this September, I want to encourage you to look for some of this month's Nature Highlights.
You might notice an oak tree beginning to drop its acorns.
You might find apples ripening on a tree.
Perhaps you'll stop to watch a squirrel racing along a branch, or discover a beautiful dew-covered spider's web sparkling in the morning sunlight.
And, if you're very lucky, you might hear that unmistakable snuffling in the garden after dark and discover that a hedgehog has come to visit.
Take a moment to really notice them.
That old, gnarly oak tree has probably lived through more than we could ever imagine.
That spider's web is an extraordinary piece of natural engineering.
The squirrel frantically burying food is responding to instincts that have helped its species survive for generations.
And although you might not be lucky enough to have a hedgehog wander into your garden or spot a red squirrel in the wild, there are still things we can do to understand, appreciate and support the wildlife around us.
Throughout September, you can explore the new Hedgehog, Apple, Oak Tree, Squirrel and Spider Nature Highlight resources to discover more about each one.
There are facts to uncover, wildlife to investigate, activities to enjoy and plenty of opportunities to take learning beyond the page and into the world outside.
Because sometimes learning about nature begins with something incredibly simple:
Stopping long enough to notice it.
And September is a wonderful month to start looking.
Autumn is coming.
Vicky
xx
Click on an image below to out more and access resources
August Nature Highlights – The Beauty of Late Summer
There is something rather magical about August.
It sits quietlybetween the excitement of summer and the first whispers of autumn. The days are still warm, flowers continue to bloom, wildlife is busy preparing for the changing seasons, and hedgerows slowly begin to fill with the first signs of the harvest to come.
It has always been one of my favourite months for simply slowing down and noticing what is happening around me.
Salmon – Determination in Motion
One of my favourite wildlife memories has to be watching salmon making their incredible journey upstream in Wales.
I've been lucky enough to visit both Betws-y-Coed and Cenarth Falls, where, if you're patient (and perhaps a little lucky!), you can watch salmon leaping against the current.
Every successful jump feels like a tiny celebration.
Watching them reminds me that nature is full of determination. The river is fast, the rocks are steep, and not every leap is successful, but they simply keep trying.
Standing quietly beside the water, listening to the rushing river while waiting for that sudden silver flash, is one of those moments that stays with you long after you've gone home.
The Crows of My Home
Anyone who knows me, knows I have a soft spot for crows.
I see them regularly around where I live, and I never tire of watching their intelligence and curiosity.
Perhaps that's partly because my hometown has historic links to crows in its very name, making them feel like part of the local landscape and history.
For a while, I was lucky enough to have what I believe was a mated pair of crows regularly visiting my garden. Over time, they seemed to recognise me. If I went outside, they never immediately flew away like many wild birds would. Instead, they often stayed where they were, watching me with curious eyes and occasionally bobbing their heads in my direction, almost as if they were greeting me.
Of course, I can't know for certain what they were thinking, but it certainly felt as though we'd reached an understanding of sorts.
I named them Fred and Ginger. Ginger was easy to recognise thanks to a single grey feather on her back that stood out amongst the rest of her glossy black plumage. Whether I actually identified them correctly as male and female, I'll never know, but that's how they'll always be remembered in my mind.
They are incredibly clever birds, often misunderstood, yet full of personality. Watching family groups interact or seeing them investigate something new always reminds me just how intelligent our garden wildlife really is.
I still smile whenever I hear that familiar caw overhead and wonder if perhaps one day another pair will decide that my garden is worth a visit.
The Elder Tree That Chose Us
One of my favourite features in my garden wasn't actually planted by me at all.
An elder tree simply appeared.
Most likely, a bird dropped a seed years ago without me noticing, and nature quietly took over.
Now it has become one of the busiest places in the garden.
Throughout the year it attracts an amazing variety of birds, insects and other wildlife. It provides welcome shade during the hottest summer days, and every time I sit nearby I find myself noticing something different visiting its branches.
Every spring, I have the very best intentions of collecting the delicate elderflowers to make something delicious, whether that's cordial, syrup or perhaps even baking with them. Then, somehow, life gets busy, and before I know it the flowers have already started fading.
Late summer brings another opportunity with the rich, dark elderberries. Again, I always tell myself that this will be the year I finally use them. However, knowing that elderberries need to be prepared and cooked correctly because they can be toxic if eaten raw or improperly prepared, I still haven't quite built up the confidence to give them a try.
One day, though, I absolutely will.
Until then, I'm more than happy to let the birds enjoy the harvest while the tree continues to remind me that sometimes nature has plans of its own—and that there's always another season to learn something new.
Lavender – A Feast for Every Sense
I absolutely love having lavender growing in my garden.
Its scent instantly makes everything feel calmer, and it's always buzzing with bees throughout the summer.
As well as looking and smelling beautiful, it's surprisingly practical too. I've found that planting lavender amongst my flower beds helps to keep greenfly away from some of the surrounding plants. Even my cats seem to have an agreement with it! They happily wander through the garden, but the strong scent of the lavender puts them off digging in those particular flower beds, saving both my plants and a lot of tidying up.
Towards the end of the flowering season, I love harvesting the lavender before giving the plants their annual trim. One of my favourite things to do is make little lavender pouches to tuck under pillows or place in drawers and wardrobes. Not only do they smell wonderful for months afterwards, but they also make lovely handmade gifts and are a simple way of bringing a little bit of the garden indoors.
One of my favourite days out has been visiting a lavender farm while the fields were in full bloom.
Standing amongst endless rows of purple flowers was breathtaking.
The café embraced lavender in ways I'd never expected, serving delicious lavender biscuits alongside a wonderful selection of soaps, bath bombs and other handmade products.
It wasn't simply somewhere to visit.
It was somewhere to experience with every sense.
Whenever I catch the scent of lavender now, it instantly takes me back to those beautiful purple fields, the gentle hum of bees, and the peaceful feeling that comes from being completely surrounded by nature.
Sunflower Evenings
Every summer I try to visit our local sunflower field.
They're beautiful at any time of day, but for me nothing compares to visiting in the evening.
Just before sunset, the golden light seems to transform the whole field.
The flowers almost glow as they turn towards the fading sunlight, creating one of those moments that photographs never quite manage to capture properly.
Sunflowers never fail to make me smile. They will also always remind me of someone very special who passed away several years ago. Like a sunflower, they had a way of lighting up every room they walked into, bringing warmth, laughter and kindness wherever they went. Seeing fields full of these cheerful flowers always makes me think of them with a smile.
One of the things I love most is the incredible variety that exists. Some stand towering above your head, while others are much smaller, with colours ranging from deep golden yellows to rich oranges and even warm reds. Yet despite all their differences, they're instantly recognisable as sunflowers. Each variety is beautiful in its own unique way, yet all share that same cheerful, uplifting presence.
It's peaceful, colourful and the perfect reminder to slow down before another busy autumn begins.
Blackberry Days
For me, blackberries are one of the clearest signs that autumn is quietly making its way towards us.
Every year my children and I head out to forage in local hedgerows, choosing quiet spots well away from busy roads.
There's something wonderfully simple about filling a container together while chatting and enjoying the fresh air.
Once we're home, those freshly picked blackberries almost always become an apple and blackberry crumble.
The smell drifting through the house while it bakes is every bit as special as eating it.
Sometimes the simplest family traditions become the ones we treasure most.
Tiny Mice with Big Adventures
I don't think I'll ever stop being amazed by field mice.
I've been lucky enough to spot them both in wildlife sanctuaries and unexpectedly while camping.
Every single time I'm struck by just how unbelievably tiny they are.
Even more impressive is watching them balance effortlessly on long grasses, moving with incredible agility despite looking impossibly delicate.
They're easy to overlook, but once you've watched one for even a few moments, you realise just how remarkable these little creatures really are.
Flying Ant Day
If you've ever experienced Flying Ant Day, you'll know it's one of those unforgettable signs that August has truly arrived.
For anyone lucky enough to miss it, Flying Ant Day isn't actually a single day across the whole country. Different colonies take to the skies on warm, humid days throughout the summer, with August often seeing some of the biggest swarms. For a few short hours, thousands of winged ants emerge to begin the next stage of their lives, providing an important food source for birds while allowing new colonies to form.
My own most memorable Flying Ant Day happened while we were camping in Wiltshire.
As evening arrived, so did what felt like every flying ant in the county!
The campsite was suddenly buzzing with thousands of tiny wings. We ended up zipping the insect screen closed on the tent for most of the evening just to keep them outside. Even then, I couldn't quite relax. Every little tickle or brush against my skin had me convinced another one had somehow sneaked inside, leaving me feeling itchy long after they'd disappeared.
Looking back now, it makes me laugh.
At the time, though, it certainly wasn't one of my favourite camping experiences!
It's another reminder that nature doesn't always fit neatly around our plans. Sometimes the best memories come from the unexpected moments—the ones that leave us laughing years later.
Taking Time to Notice
One of the things I love most about August is that it encourages us to pay attention.
Nature doesn't shout.
It quietly offers moments of wonder to anyone willing to slow down enough to notice them.
Whether it's watching salmon battle upstream, hearing crows calling overhead, discovering wildlife hidden amongst an elder tree, walking through fields of lavender or sunflowers, gathering blackberries with your family, smiling as a tiny field mouse balances on a blade of grass, or even laughing about surviving Flying Ant Day, every moment reminds us that the natural world is always changing around us.
Sometimes all we need to do is step outside and look.
If something in this month's highlights has inspired you, don't forget that each of these seasonal wonders has its own dedicated page here on the website. You'll find fascinating facts, ideas for things to spot outdoors, simple seasonal activities, and a growing collection of free educational resources to help children and families explore nature together.
Whether you're a parent, teacher, home educator or simply someone who enjoys spending time outdoors, I hope these pages encourage you to discover something new, revisit an old favourite, or perhaps create a few August memories of your own.
I hope this August you find your own favourite moment in nature.
Vicky
x
Information, resources and activities on every page. Explore the fun!
Mid-August Environment Highlight: Meadows & Wildflowers 🌼
There is something undeniably beautiful about a wildflower meadow.
A sweep of grasses dotted with oxeye daisies, poppies, cornflowers and countless smaller flowers can look almost effortless, as though nature simply scattered a handful of colour across the landscape. These habitats can be found across the country, from managed wildflower meadows and nature reserves to field margins, verges and little pockets of land that have simply been allowed to grow.
I have also been lucky enough to wander through lavender fields where rows of wildflowers have been planted between the lavender. The combination of purple lavender, bright wildflowers, buzzing insects and that unmistakable scent is beautiful.
But these colourful places are much more than something pretty to look at.
🌸 A Difficult Summer for Wildflowers
This year in particular, our wildflowers have been facing difficult conditions. Long periods of heat and dry weather have left the ground incredibly dry in many places. Plants can flower for shorter periods, produce less nectar or simply struggle altogether.
And what happens to the flowers doesn't stop with the flowers.
Bumblebees and other pollinating insects depend upon them for nectar and pollen. During very hot, dry weather, insects can also struggle with overheating and finding enough water. If flowering plants disappear earlier than usual, an important source of food disappears with them.
A meadow is an ecosystem, not simply a collection of flowers.
The flowers support insects.
The insects support birds and bats.
Those animals form part of the food web supporting larger predators.
Remove enough pieces and the effects begin travelling far beyond the original patch of flowers.
🐝 A Meadow I Will Never Forget
Wildflower meadows can be important to us for another reason too.
A few years ago, my mental health had reached a particularly low point. One day, I went for a walk along a public footpath that passed some abandoned church ruins. Eventually, I found myself sitting at the edge of a wildflower field.
It was filled with cornflowers, oxeye daisies and poppies.
I remember the explosion of bright reds and blues against the green. Bees moved lazily between the flowers while butterflies flitted from one patch to another.
And I just sat and watched.
It didn't magically make everything difficult disappear. But for that little piece of time, something still felt good.
Something was beautiful.
It is a sight and a memory that I haven't forgotten.
Sometimes nature doesn't need us to do anything. We can simply sit beside it for a while.
🌿 When the Meadows Disappear
Unfortunately, opportunities to experience places like this are becoming increasingly precious.
As housing developments increase and infrastructure expands to meet human needs and demands, natural and semi-natural habitats can become smaller, fragmented or disappear altogether.
And once again, the consequences reach further than we might initially imagine.
Fewer flowering habitats can mean fewer insects. Fewer insects can mean less food for insect-eating birds and bats. Changes lower down the food web can then affect the animals that depend upon those species and the wider ecosystems around them.
Nature is interconnected.
We cannot continually remove habitat and expect everything else to remain unchanged.
🦋 Giving Nature a Voice
That is why protecting wildflower meadows, grasslands, verges and other wildlife-rich spaces matters.
Support local conservation projects. Ask questions when important habitats are threatened. Encourage councils, schools and community spaces to leave suitable areas a little wilder. Plant native wildflowers where you can. Provide shallow sources of water for insects during dry weather. And teach children that the slightly messy patch buzzing with bees may be far more valuable than a perfectly clipped piece of grass.
Most importantly, give wildlife a voice when it cannot speak for itself.
Protecting these places isn't only about wildlife either.
Plants contribute to healthier environments, and access to green spaces gives us somewhere to walk, explore, breathe and escape some of the pressures of everyday life.
Sometimes that might be a family adventure through a meadow.
Sometimes it might be stopping to photograph a butterfly.
And sometimes it might simply be sitting quietly at the edge of a field filled with cornflowers, oxeye daisies and poppies and remembering that there are still beautiful things in the world.
🌼 This Mid-August, take a moment to notice the wildflowers. Watch what visits them. Listen to the meadow around you. These spaces may look quiet from a distance, but get a little closer and you'll discover an entire community depending upon them.
