This book was a present from my mother, who used to read me stories by BB (or Denys Pitchford-Watkins) when I was a child. His series of books based around ‘The Little Grey Men’ were a great joy to me as a child. The fictional work revolved around three dwarfs who lived in a wood along the Bright Stream, and had all sorts of adventures. Although now I don’t remember the specific storylines, the imagery and setting BB described so beautifully have lodged themselves in my head, and the cool, clear stream in an idyllic woodland, bursting with wildlife, resplendent in the golden sunlight filtering through broad leaves and the air thick with pollen, is a place I often find myself drifting off to in daydreams. So I approached this book with excitement.
The Naturalist’s Bedside Book is a collection of BB’s essays on the countryside that he wrote in the latter part of his life in the 1970s. It is arranged by season, starting in the stillness of winter, through the gathering pace of spring and the long, hot summer, before calming again into autumn, a time for reflection and contemplation, and the end of the book. The essays are fairly short, so as to keep the reader progressing at a fair pace, but they still manage to pack in a huge amount of information.
The stories range from moorhen chicks to swallows in the garage to purple emperors and hunting pigeons, all the while incorporating BB’s knowledge, insights, and beautiful poetic descriptions. This book also challenged my prejudices, as BB spends his autumn and winter hunting wildfowl, rabbits and hares, something I don’t associate with conservation. But he clearly has a deep understanding of the natural world, the born countryman whose knowledge comes not from any kind of academic study, but simply by observing and immersing himself in nature. He bemoans the increasing intensification of agriculture seen at this time, and his words provide a snapshot both of the state of nature during the 1970s, but also contrasted with his own memories of the 1930s and 40s, before the wholesale destruction of our countryside began. But the real power of the work comes from his beautiful descriptions of the countryside he inhabits. His unabashed poeticism really inspired me, just as his stories did when I was a child. The essays are complemented by a series of etchings by BB himself, illustrating the countryside in a pure, monochromatic simplicity.
I have only one criticism of the book, which is that sometimes it is slightly repetitive. Because of the nature of the essays, which I gather were written over a period of years, it is understandable that occasionally he covers similar ground twice, but because they are presented not chronologically but by season, this repetition becomes a little too obvious occasionally. But it is a small gripe in a book which, above all, shows the thoughts and experiences of a man wholly engrossed and engaged with the countryside. What permeates throughout the book is BB’s love of the wildlife and landscape of his small patch of the Midlands. His enthusiasm is infectious and inspirational, and I challenge anyone to read it without wanting to step out of their door, go for a walk and relish in the natural bounties that the countryside still has to offer.