Did you know May was named after a Greek nymph—or that London’s Mayfair owes its name to ancient merriment? From dew-kissed beauty rituals to Jack in the Green dancing through the streets, May brims with myth and natural wonder. Will hawthorn bloom by the 1st? Why was its scent once feared? And where can you find 300-year-old thorns in the city? Return on 01 May to uncover May’s secrets—where flowers, folklore, and birdsong collide in a London spring.

As May dawns, London’s skies and parks erupt in a symphony of birdsong—from the haunting woodlark to the electric chatter of goldfinches. Did you know the pre-dawn chorus peaks at 4 a.m., only to fade by sunrise? Where can you hear nightingales after dark, or catch the rare ripple of a whimbrel on the Thames? Return on 02 May to discover the city’s hidden avian concert—where robins sing like sopranos, swifts scream overhead, and every garden becomes a stage.

Deep in London’s oak woods, a symphony of birdsong unfolds—but can you tell the blackcap’s flute-like melody from the garden warbler’s scratchy tune? Why does the willow warbler’s song end in disappointment? And where might you still hear the rare wood warbler’s ‘silver shiver’? Return on 03 May to decode the capital’s most enchanting woodland songs—from the great tit’s 50+ calls to the redstart’s abrupt serenade. The trees are alive with music, if you know how to listen...

As dusk falls on London’s forgotten heaths, an eerie churring rises—like a phantom motorbike echoing across the bracken. This is the nightjar’s spellbinding song, weaving mystery into May’s twilight. But can you spot the stonechat’s pebble-click warning? Or distinguish the grasshopper warbler’s reeling whisper from a true insect’s buzz? Return on 04 May to uncover the secrets of the capital’s rarest birdsong—where meadow pipits mimic squeaky bikes, and whinchats sing sweet, stolen melodies in the wild edges of the Thames.

From long-tailed tits weaving gossamer cradles to woodcocks vanishing among dead leaves, May reveals London’s most ingenious avian architects. Did you know blue tits deliver 900 caterpillars a day? Or that nuthatches plaster their tree holes like master craftsmen? Return on 05 May to explore the capital’s hidden nurseries—where swifts nest in Victorian eaves, nightingales sing directly above their secrets, and eider ducks defy danger with nothing but down. The city’s wildest parenting stories are unfolding just out of sight...

Nature’s Hidden Palette: The Secrets of Eggs, Fledglings & Spring Colours

Discover the dazzling diversity of birds' eggs—from brilliant blues to devilish scribbles—and the perilous journey of fledglings leaving the nest. Why do some eggs stay hidden, while others shine like jewels? And how does May transform London’s landscapes into a riot of colour?

This May, London's skies come alive with winged wonders. Spot African-bound hobbies hunting over reservoirs, Arctic godwits in dazzling summer plumage, and perhaps even a jewel-toned bluethroat in the reeds. But the true star sings under cover of darkness - the nightingale's complex love song, weaving fluty notes through Thameside thickets.

Why do seasoned birders whisper near Bookham Common at dusk? Where might a vanishing turtle dove still purr its sleepy serenade? And which rare migrants could appear - then vanish in a day?

This week, London's landscapes transform into a living botany lesson. From the sapphire glow of bluebell woods to the rare marsh violet's veined petals, each flower tells a story. Did you know beggars once used buttercup sap to fake sores? Or that some violets wear tiny 'moustaches' and 'rabbit ears'?

Venture beyond parks to discover sulphur cinquefoil glowing in wastelands, ghostly lily-of-the-valley in shady thickets, and the elusive bastard balm hiding in plain sight. Even Rainham's marshes become a stage for celery-leaved buttercups performing their golden encore.

This week, London's cracks and crannies come alive with miniature masterpieces. Discover why Persian speedwells - with their sky-blue petals and white surprise - were feared as storm omens by medieval pilgrims. Learn how these delicate "farewell flowers" earned their gruesome nickname, and why they once starred in cancer remedies.

Meanwhile, cranesbills begin their pink parade: from the velvety dovesfoot to the tearful 'Mourning Widow', whose petals fall like sorrow itself. Could a rogue wood cranesbill from Lancashire be hiding in your local park? And what dark secret gives the bloody cranesbill its name, despite its cheerful magenta hue?

This week, London's wastelands stage a floral masquerade. Would you mistake a deadly hemlock for innocent cow parsley? Or spot the "Fox and Cubs" hiding coal-black hairs beneath fiery orange petals? Discover why medieval lovers carried caraway seeds as magical theft deterrents, and how Socrates met his agonizing end thanks to a purple-blotched stalk now growing along your commute.

From nutty pignuts (the true "May nuts") to hawkweeds with blood-red undersides, these common composites hold dark secrets. One wrong bite of water dropwort can silence a tongue forever - yet their delicate white umbrels dance innocently along every roadside.

This week, London's wastelands transform into nature's pantry. Discover how mustard plants like Charlock became famine food during Ireland's darkest hour, and why a humble cress traveled here in Napoleonic soldiers' mattresses. Could the legendary London Rocket - said to have blanketed the city after the Great Fire - still cling to Tower walls?

Meanwhile, pea flowers weave their magic: from shamrocks hiding in your lawn to kidney vetch's woolly "lamb toes" that once graced funeral shrouds. Why did these blooms vanish from our chalk downs - and with them, the blue butterflies they sustained?

As May unfolds, London’s ancient woodlands stage one of nature’s most breathtaking spectacles: a sea of sapphire bluebells, delicate orchids, and fragrant ramsons carpeting the forest floor. Yet beneath this beauty lies a fragile story—some flowers, like the ghostly herb Paris and stately Solomon’s seal, are disappearing, victims of lost habitats and invasive species. Why have lily of the valley colonies all but vanished from Hampstead Heath? How can you tell a true English bluebell from its Spanish rival? And where in the city can you still find these rare blooms?

Return on 12 May to explore London’s wildflower wonders—before the canopy closes and another spring slips away.

Beyond the city’s sprawl, the chalk downs south of London are alive with a delicate dance of colour—tiny milkworts like "birds in flight," vanishing rarities like the turpentine-scented Ground Pine (London’s rarest plant), and the cheerful invasion of ox-eye daisies and scarlet pimpernel. But these landscapes hold secrets: Why did medieval herb women swear by milkworts for nursing mothers? How did yellow rattle seeds become a bizarre cure for cataracts? And where can you still find the elusive "earth smoke" fumitory, a flower once believed to sprout from literal smoke?

Return on 13 May to uncover the hidden stories of London’s downland wildflowers—before summer’s heat transforms them into memory.

Beyond the parks and pavements, London’s secret landscapes burst into life each May. From heathlands dusted with pollen-exploding broom to forgotten marshes where fritillaries dance beside water avens (a flower so rare it was once used to preserve ale), the city’s wild edges defy expectation. But time is running out to see them—why is purple gromwell now clinging to just a few West Country strongholds? How did a plant called "earth smoke" inspire medieval myths of flowers sprouting from vapour? And where can you still find chalk streams, ancient box woods, and even a snail so rare it survives only in Syon Park?

Return on 14 May to explore London’s last wild refuges—before development and neglect erase them for good.

As May awakens, rare and extraordinary orchids emerge in secret corners of the capital. The Early Purple Orchid, once called "bloody butcher" for its crimson blooms, hides in dwindling woodlands. The Fly Orchid lures amorous wasps with petals that perfectly mimic insects—a trick of evolution few ever witness. And the ghostly Bird’s Nest Orchid, pale as old parchment, thrives unseen in the deep shade of beech woods.

These flowers are survivors of a wilder London, steeped in myth. Elizabethan botanists believed their roots could wander across fields, while sailors relied on them as long-lasting food. Yet today, many cling to existence only in forgotten churchyards and protected reserves. Will they still bloom for future generations?

Return on 15 May to explore where these floral treasures hide, the legends they’ve inspired, and why their survival hangs in the balance.

As spring blooms across London, the city’s overlooked grasslands come alive with subtle beauty. From the delicate Silver Hair Grass to the ubiquitous Annual Meadow Grass, May is the perfect time to start identifying these unassuming yet fascinating plants. But beware—by June, the task becomes much harder!

On 16 May, join us as we explore the hidden world of urban grasses, from foxtails swaying in the breeze to the sweet-scented Sweet Vernal Grass that perfumes our parks. Discover why these humble plants are more intriguing—and essential—than you might think.

Beneath London’s waterways lurk creatures both strange and ancient—from the plague-carrying Signal Crayfish to the burrowing Chinese Mitten Crab. Did you know the Thames once teemed with native crayfish, kept as live snacks by the Romans? Now, invasive species dominate, ignored by Londoners but prized as delicacies elsewhere.

On 17 May, dive into the hidden world of London’s crustaceans: ghostly translucent Leptodora drifting in reservoirs, parasitic fish lice with vampiric suckers, and even land-loving sandhoppers hiding in gardens. Discover why these creatures matter—and which ones are quietly reshaping our ecosystems.

From medieval herb plots to Victorian plant hunters’ exotic treasures, London’s gardens hide centuries of history—and myth. Did you know the fleur-de-lis was inspired by our native yellow iris, or that peonies can outlive their planters by a hundred years? This month, the city blooms with stolen legends: Egyptian sceptres, Chinese emperors’ favourites, and even a flower that smells like roast beef.

On 18 May, we’ll unravel the stories behind London’s most enchanting garden plants—from Robert Fortune’s bleeding hearts (once a Victorian obsession) to the Himalayan blue poppies that sold for a guinea each. Discover why irises were chewed to mask tobacco breath, and where to spot surviving medieval species today.

Did you know London has its own ‘tarantula’? The wolf spider Alopecosa pulverulenta prowls Hampstead Heath—a miniature descendant of the Italian spiders that inspired the frenzied tarantella dance. This month, the city’s hidden world of spiders and caterpillars erupts: from metallic-green-fanged tube-web hunters to ‘woolly bear’ caterpillars whose hairs can trigger rashes.

On 19 May, we’ll unveil London’s most astonishing arachnids and larvae—including the goat moth caterpillar (a 10cm-long, goat-scented wood-borer) and crab spiders that paralyse bees mid-flight. Discover why some male spiders wrap mates in silk before courtship, and where to spot venomous silk-weavers lurking in brick crevices.

As spring deepens, London’s trees transform into living theatres of colour, scent, and motion. Lime trees shed delicate bud scales, creating fleeting pools of russet and gold beneath their boughs, while beeches unfurl silky new leaves so bright they seem lit from within. Conifers like Scots pine and giant redwoods release clouds of pollen—some grains even equipped with tiny “balloons” to ride the breeze. And in parks and woodlands, purple beeches, cherry trees, and smoke bushes flaunt their boldest hues before summer softens their shades.

Yet beyond the spectacle lie secrets. The ash tree, revered as the “Venus of the Woods,” was once believed to repel snakes and banish demons. Elms, Europe’s most enigmatic trees, defy identification with their tangled histories of cloning and hybridisation—though Battersea Park hides rare survivors, like the disease-defying Camperdown elm. Meanwhile, hornbeams and hazels dangle catkins like nature’s own decorations, and willow seeds drift through the air like slow-motion snow.

This May, London’s parks and streets are alive with the subtle charms of the Sorbus family—whitebeams, rowans, and wild service trees—each hiding stories of rarity, hybridisation, and botanical intrigue. From the creamy blossoms of our native whitebeam (found in just 17 unique British forms, some clinging to existence as single trees) to the self-seeding rowan, now a city staple, these trees defy easy identification. Venture to Larks Wood in Chingford, and you’ll find the elusive wild service tree, its name borrowed by pubs (though rarely its true likeness) and even the Prime Minister’s countryside retreat.

But the real wonders are the oddities: the Bastard Service Tree (a rowan-whitebeam hybrid), the Swedish whitebeam (a pollution-resistant street star), and the Wye Valley’s exclusive Sorbus x vagensis. Hunt down the pear-fruited Service Tree in Crystal Palace Park or admire the metallic-barked Sorbus aria ‘Beissneri’—a living sculpture.

Before roses and rhododendrons, London’s gardens were home to wild shrubs like gorse, spindle, and deadly nightshade—each with a story to tell. Discover how these ancient plants shaped history, from Plantagenet emblems to Tudor remedies. Why was spindle wood feared as a plague omen? How did a humble shrub become a king’s cure for gluttony?

From badger cubs to fox kits, May is alive with London’s wild families—each with strange quirks and ancient myths. Why do young rabbits freeze in headlights? How did mole paws become a cure for rheumatism? And which predator feasts on mice but plays with rabbits before eating them?

Return on 23 May to uncover the secret nurseries of the city’s deer, shrews, and weasels—and the eerie folklore that still lingers around them.

As dusk falls over London’s parks, pipistrelles dart like shadows, noctules soar above treetops, and Daubenton’s bats skim rivers for mayflies—but the rarest of all, the ghostly greater horseshoe, lingers on the brink of vanishing. Meanwhile, along the city’s forgotten waterways, otters are making a cautious comeback. Why were they once hunted to the edge of extinction? And where can you spot their secret slides and spraints today?

Return on 24 May to uncover the night-time dramas of London’s bats and the quiet return of its most elusive swimmer.

Beneath the surface of London’s ponds, a strange drama unfolds—tadpoles with ‘balancers,’ frogs that laugh, and toads with round-tipped tails. But the real mystery? Edible frogs that can’t breed true, and marsh frogs with a taste for noisy romance. Meanwhile, on sun-warmed embankments, adders hunt slow worms, grass snakes stalk frogs, and London’s last surviving reptiles play out their ancient rituals.

Return on 25 May to unravel the tangled love lives of amphibians and the stealthy hunters of the undergrowth.

Beneath the surface of London’s rivers, fish are staging a silent spectacle—carp thrash in the shallows, grayling scent the water with thyme, and barbels release clouds of eggs, just as they did in Elizabethan times. Meanwhile, in the damp shadows of fallen logs, fungi defy the seasons: sulphur-yellow "chicken of the woods" erupts from bark, while radish-scented deer mushrooms rise from the rot. Why were bleak scales once prized as fake pearls? And which toxic fungus masquerades as a morel?

Return on 26 May to dive into the secret lives of spawning fish and the eerie beauty of spring fungi.

This month, London’s gardens and downlands come alive with fluttering jewels—from the familiar large whites to the rare green hairstreak, our only truly green butterfly. But the real magic happens in hidden corners: grizzled skippers perform aphrodisiac dances, dingy skippers hug the earth like moths, and Adonis blues glow like fragments of sky. Why does one butterfly chase rivals in loop-the-loops? And which species might drink your sweat if you hold still?

Return on 27 May to unravel the aerial dramas of May’s butterflies—and where to spot the rarest blues.

While butterflies claim the daylight, May nights belong to moths—from the blood-red cinnabar to the emperor with its seven-centimeter wingspan. Discover which day-flier mimics a 16th-century witch, which rare beauty hides in Thameside wastelands, and why male emperors gather like gentlemen callers at dusk. But beware the ghost moth’s goat-like stench and the buff-tip’s uncanny disguise as a broken cigarette!

Return on 28 May to explore London’s moth madness—where hawkmoths power through lime trees, and "peppered" wings whisper tales of evolution.

As May reaches its crescendo, London’s hidden insect world erupts in spectacle—mayflies perform their fatal mating dances over the Darent, metallic beetles tumble from tapped oak branches, and ten million aphids form living clouds beneath lime trees. But the real drama unfolds in the shadows: lily beetles play dead, water spiders hunt through liquid mirrors, and lacewing larvae wear corpse armor. Why do male dance flies propose with dead gifts? And which beetle carries a hidden spine sharper than a rose thorn?

Return on 29 May to witness nature’s most intricate performances—where shield bugs shield their young, and mayflies live just hours to dance.

As May wanes, London’s ferns perform their silent ballet—bracken crosiers spiral skyward at shocking speed, lady ferns mimic ecclesiastical staffs, and the bizarre adder’s tongue fern reveals its waxy, ribless leaves. But the real curiosities lurk in the margins: a floating fern that refuses to sink, and horsetails so abrasive they once polished Tudor pewter. Why did Victorians risk eating carcinogenic fiddleheads? And which fern vanishes underground for years like a botanical ghost?

Return on 30 May to unravel the secrets of London’s ancient flora—where ferns craft oil for snakebites and alien water ferns paint marshes pink.

As May departs, London’s air becomes a living perfume—linden blossoms whisper to Proustian memories, lily-of-the-valley hides its Victorian snuff secrets, and water lilies exhale brandied plum. But venture deeper: where Elizabethan "gillyflowers" still haunt rubbish tips, hawthorn reeks of decay, and wild strawberries hide musk in bruised leaves. Why did Romans soup up with myrrh-scented weeds? And which flower’s scent was literally bottled as an antidote to painful memories?

Return on 31 May to follow your nose through London’s olfactory wonders—from civet-like viburnums to peonies too elegant for words.