There is so much to report in local nature, and so much worldwide that concerns us at home, writes Damien Enright

Last week I was putting up a new peanut feeder on our wooden balcony so as to enjoy watching the winter parade of birds from our dining table, when I disturbed a red admiral butterfly roosting under the balcony railing alongside a spindle, a sensible location unlikely to catch frost, but catching the early morning sun, writes Damien Enright.

THE yard is carpeted in bronze and chestnut beech leaves.

Maybe the ducks instinctively knew the supermoon was coming, writes Damien Enright

The leaves underfoot are dry as potato crisps, lighter and every shade from pastel yellow to blood red. They crunch underfoot; they blow around the yard in eddies and whirlpools, writes Damien Enright

I see that I can’t see the Milky Way as I used to. It may be my eyes, but it seems I’m not the only one.