She might only be a lump of concrete, but I have an immense fondness for trig. point 4144.
A ridiculous observation concerning rooks, which can't possibly be right.
When your instincts and your compass disagree, trust your instincts. I mean your compass.
We only have a few precious years on this wonderful planet, so why not find out what you can about it while you still have the chance?
How plants can end up in the strangest of places.
On the seventeenth-century polymath Sir Thomas Browne, and his tenuous connection with my local moor.
I've decided I need to make my book a little less formal.