Travelling with him is pure delight. Dunn is a fine nature writer, whose descriptions of locations are eloquent and often poignant, as so many orchid habitats are at risk. He is an erudite authority on orchid identification, while his digressions into their uses as aphrodisiacs, their promiscuous tendency to form hybrids that bamboozle botanists, and tales of their curious place in human affairs are constantly entertaining. Who knew that a helleborine chemical compound that stupefies pollinating wasps was administered to Hitler by his physician? The list of walled gardens to visit at the end of the book is great. Ultimately this is an insightful guide for anyone wanting to visit gardens on days out. Orchids are the most beguiling plants in our flora. Some use sexual deception to lure pollinators, others forge underground partnerships with fungi and many have a tantalising tendency to appear in profusion in one year and vanish the next. By his own admission, Jon Dunn has fallen under their spell, with a bad case of orchid fever. It’s a compulsion that led him to leave his home in Shetland and spend a summer seeking every species in Britain, from the early purples of spring to the last of the autumn lady’s tresses. This is a heartwarming, inspirational book that shows why, if we want a wilder future, we will all have to fight for it. Few places on Earth remain untouched by humans, creating challenges for the wildlife we share it with. We have entered a new age, and we must look at the splendour of the natural world through a different lens.

Jim Holden’s lush photography captures the vibrancy of these heavenly places, mixing down-among-the-stalks close-ups with sweeping vistas, and ranging from the wet meadows of the Thames floodplain north to the machair of Hebridean coasts. But he never forgets these are working environments – haymaking is the reason they exist – so there are as many pictures of farming techniques and ‘meadow folk’. Hugo Rittson Thomas’s captivating book is a visual celebration of these meadows, and is very much a book of wildflowers for everyone. Pairing enigmatic photographic landscapes of 20 selected Coronation Meadows across the UK with zoomed-in flat lays and herbaria-like arrangements of key wildflower species – tufted vetch, field scabious, great burnet and a surprising number of exotic-looking orchids – it is a suitably rich and colourful homage to the vital diversity and beauty of the UK’s native grasslands.a smallholder and author from North Yorkshire. Her smart little book is aimed squarely at the gift market, with its many headings and boxes designed for dipping in, enlivened by delightfully retro linocut-style illustrations. The book offers an antidote to modern life’s digital distractions and endless rolling news cycle, which so often leave us running on empty. Every photograph has been beautifully reproduced in this large format, with detailed technical information appearing alongside the photographer’s personal note on composition and subject.

So declares Ruth Allen, a psychotherapist who specialises in taking her clients out into the natural world. She explains how readers can reconnect with nature and, in so doing, become more attuned to themselves and more grounded as human beings. The goal is then to live “bravely and tenaciously”, full of the joy and wonder of being alive. Swell, a Waterbiography, tells the story of the early female swimming pioneers, interwoven with Landreth’s own swimming journey, from head up, slow lane, breast stroker to ice-breaking veteran of the iconic Tooting Bec Lido. This illuminating book proves a worthy addition to a crowded genre as it focuses on the science behind what enables us to walk and why walking is, in turn, good for us. In the introduction, Shane O’Mara outlines the intriguing and novel concept that, along with language and using tools, our ability to ambulate is one of the key things that sets humans apart from other animals.

Christmas Gifts

There’s plenty of country lore too, and entertaining summaries of scientific studies – for example, we learn that worms can make friends and in times of crisis will take risks. They may also – though researchers disagree on this – experience pain, so perhaps these engineers of the earth deserve a little more respect. Initially, the book looks to our collective history as a species and to our individual past as children to explore how we evolved the skills to walk and in turn to navigate. A more extensive perspective takes shape as it investigates differing reasons for walking, such as to aid thought and to protest. It also examines how certain environments impact upon the brain and wellbeing, including a fascinating chapter on walking in the city, of which city planners may wish to take note.

We all have our preconceptions about Yorkshire, its landscape, people and history. Our thoughts will be a mix of straight-talking characters, dales, moors and rivers, heavy industry, classic seaside resorts, Emmerdale villages and gritstone towns.Wonder and awe do not necessarily come from seeing beautiful things – a glorious view, say – but from deep engagement and close attention to the world around us. As Katherine May reveals, they can be about standing in the fresh air at sunrise, going barefoot, feeling the pull of the tide during a sea swim, watching the moon (“an excellent confidante”) alone in the early hours. An act as simple as touching stone helps anchor us: “There is a definite coupling… a communication of density, a heat exchange.” Over recent years, we have spent more and more time indoors, and for many of us, this has only increased with the COVID-19 pandemic. However, as a species, we're programmed to love the great outdoors. Even just looking at a green space reduces stress and improves psychological wellbeing. Sadly, authentic farming voices are missing. This may reflect the nature of hay meadows in the 21st century, many of which are cared for by conservation organisations. Fragile relics of a bygone era, they can yet show us a better way of living with the land.