A couple of weeks ago, I was invited up to London by the RSPB to judge the Nature of Farming Awards, which are organised by the

RSPB in association with Countryfile Magazine, Plantlife International and Butterfly Conservation. The aim was to find Britain’s most wildlife-friendly farmer.

 As a keen naturalist, I’m delighted to be involved with anything that encourages landowners to look after the natural riches of the countryside. But I’m also aware that farms are businesses and need to make a living. If the awards prove that farmers can make a profit AND encourage wildlife, then other farmers may take note and it could be good news for the countryside.

My fellow judges were Mark Avery, Conservation Director of the RSPB; Victoria Chester, Chief Executive of Plantlife International; and Martin Warren, Chief Executive of Butterfly Conservation. So in the RSPB’s Westminster offices (small and perfectly formed – no money wasted here) there were bird, plant and insect champions – and me.

Our job was to whittle down the entries to just four and put these forward to a public vote. Amazingly, we all agreed on the four strongest candidates for the award – farmers who ran profitable businesses but also loved wildlife and did everything they could to attract and support nature on their land. The result is that each farm is buzzing with life and beauty.

But why not take a look at the candidates yourself and vote for who you think deserves to win the Nature of Farming Award in 2010.
VOTE HERE

Last weekend, I was lying on the lawn in my Bristol garden looking up and realised something was wrong. Then it struck me – no aircraft noise and no criss-crossing of vapour trails. Now I love a good vapour trail – it's the one harmless byproduct of our love affair with jet travel – but, for once, it was lovely to see a completely natural sky. It was deep blue with little fluffy clouds and no obvious sign of THE ASH CLOUD, though it was a bit hazy over the neighbouring district St Pauls.

And while it must be miserable for friends and colleagues who are stuck abroad and desperate to get home by land and sea, for us Earthlings with no planes to catch, it's perhaps a glimpse of what Britain's skies were like before the 20th century and the invention of the aeroplane.

The Easter issue is on sale in the shops with a grinning Adam Henson holding a pair of very cute lambs. But getting that image was the result of desperate a race against time. The magazine was going to press in mid February – early for lambing. We hoped that Adam would perhaps have some on his farm, but no.

Then, the Saturday morning before the magazine was due to be sent to the printers, Sean the photographer called me (at 7.30am) saying Adam’s neighbour had a ewe that had given birth to twin lambs. Phew – we jumped in a car and sped up to Adam’s farm… this is what happened next.

Later this spring, we’ll be running a feature about the birds that migrate to Britain in summer and how they add to our experience of the countryside.
 
These species include obvious characters such as swallows, swifts, cuckoos and the martins but also the less obvious characters such as willow warblers, blackcaps and nightingales.
 
Less obvious in colour and behaviour but not in song. While you may not be able to recognise which species is singing which melody (though it’s not too difficult to learn – if I can do it, anyone can), you’ll certainly appreciate the lovely backing track birdsong provides to any visit to the countryside in spring and summer.
 
One of the debates we’ve had in the office and with our colleagues on Countryfile and at the BBC Natural History Unit is which British songster is the nation’s favourite singer. And this is where you can help. I’ve selected the 15 best singers. If you’re familiar with the birds’ songs, vote for your favourite below. If not, why not listen to these clips and then vote for your favourite here.

Turtle dove
Blackbird
Chaffinch
Wood warbler
Willow warbler
Robin
Blackcap
Song thrush
Cuckoo
Swift
Wren
Dunnock
Yellowhammer
Nightingale
Woodlark
 

After a night spent pretending to be Harold II (with arrow in eye accessories) at a friend's medieval 40th birthday party at a draughty castle in very snowy Wales, I returned with the obligatory cold. This one is particularly nasty – a real man-flu head basher. My limbs ache, my throat feels as if I've swallowed a Norman sword (hilt first) and my spirits are battered. Lemon and honey (with a whisky) have no effect.

After three days fighting a losing battle (rather like Harold), I succumbed to a WHOLE day off work but it was hard to relax. When I wasn't cowering under a duvet, I was feeling guilty about the amount of work that needed doing (the Countryfile March issue is due to go to press next week and I haven't read Julia's column, edited the feature on the future of horsepower in the countryside by the great Simon Barnes or written the coverlines!).

Now in reality, there was nothing I could do. I have a great team who keep things ticking over and, when you're ill, you simply can't think straight or do anything useful. All that rubbish that advertisers tell us about flu remedies getting us back on our feet and back to work quicker – and making us feel guilty for being ill – doesn't wash with me.

Editor of the Idler magazine Tom Hodgkinson takes it further. In his superb "How to be Idle" he recommends positively enjoying an illness. Embrace the duvet, delight in the enforced inactivity and use it creatively (or just slumber). DON'T FEEL GUILTY. YOU'RE ILL.

There's something to be said for this. The moment I held up my hands and admitted defeat and turned off my computer, I started to feel better. I lit a fire, took an old favourite book off the shelves (The Poachers' Handbook by Ian Niall) and immersed myself in being 'ill'. Within hours, my body had started to forgive me and set about mending itself.

Tom recommends old fashioned convalescences for my sort of illness (a month in a health spa spending everyday in pyjamas and being wheeled into the morning sunshine by an attractive nurse). But I think in these days of cutbacks, the BBC convalescence home is a non-starter.

Still, in the words of the great Idler, colds happen to us all. Let's try to enjoy them – not fight them.

Waking up Monday morning with a throat so sore I must have accidentally inhaled a hedgehog overnight, I looked out of the window and discovered a white world. I'd forgotten to watch the forecast Sunday evening so snowfall was a complete surprise.Sore throat was temporarily forgotten.

I got dressed, wrapped up junior Collins and took him into the garden for his first touch of snow. I think he enjoyed the sensation of cold crystals on his tiny fingers. We found fox footprints up and down the garden path – it had had a sniff round the bin, a dart at the birdtable then left through a gap in the fence that I didn't know existed. Junior looked slightly bemused. I took him back into the warmth of his mum's arms.

As I walked to work, I kept catching other people's eyes and smiling. Normally we'd just ignore each other. But the new, fresh snow had made us all just a tad more delighted with the world and relaxed about our fellow human beings.

Those who had made it in to the office – some 150 of us work at BBC Magazines Bristol (although only seven on the editorial side of Countryfile magazine) – were glowing with a sense of achievement. Those living in remoter areas were texting in their excuses about being snowed in, gleefully anticipating a day of plentiful tea, a duvet and perhaps a great film.

Those of us who made it in finished off the February issue, my first as editor. Look out for it in the shops from 12 January.

Of course, not everyone loves snow. There is always a hard element who moan about the dirty slush, the transport delays and the embarassment caused by falling over. And of course, it can be dangerous to travellers – my heart goes out to those caught up in some of accidents reported on the news today or those unable to get home for Christmas because of snow and ice. Although I have some sympathy for Simon Jenkins' view: www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/dec/22/blame-for-winter-travel-chaos

But as the world warms in the future, such white days may become a thing of the past. I'm of the opinion that you have to enjoy them when you can, just in case they never happen again.

Have a wonderful Christmas and New Year

Fergus

I watched The Age of Stupid www.ageofstupid.net the other night and it sent me into a pit of depression about climate change and the end of the world. But my more optimistic wife wasn’t letting imminent global catastrophe get her down – it was time to put up the Christmas decorations.
 
Sadly, the old box of festive frippery was looking jaded – the ghosts of at least a dozen Christmas pasts. There was talk – talk mind you – of heading to the shops and buying a carful of imported tinselly tat. But I could still see Pete Postlethwaite’s ogre-ish face warning me: NO TAT.
 
And as for the tree… well, a decent-sized one costs £25 at this end of Bristol. So, baulking at buying a farmed evergreen, I lopped the top off our magnolia tree (it had been asking for it, mind you), covered it in lights and baubles and, lo and behold, we have a rather unique and beautiful alternative. Each twig ends in a fluffy catkin – a natural bauble.
 
For the rest of the house, we put junior Collins in a sling (not in the tree) and headed off to the local woods armed with secateurs and a few bags. We found loads of holly, wonderful spindle tree berries resembling little pink flowers, liana-like ivy, old man’s beard, springs of cypress and a load of other natural tinsel.

 
We didn’t cut anything down, just trimmed a few little ends here and there. We even burst into an impromptu chorus of 'The holly and the ivy' though junior had wind and never quite hit his stride.
 
The result – a lovely home-made wreath on the door (saving a tenner) and halls (well, hall and living room) decked with boughs of holly and other wild delights. I haven't felt this Christmassy in years.
 
But I had to put a bit of tinsel over the mantelpiece. Didn’t feel right without it.

Anyone else planning wild decorations this year? Countryfile magazine would love to hear all about it.

Phew! Six days in to my new job as editor of Countryfile Magazine and I've finally got a few minutes with a cup of tea. A strong one (a tooth-stainer, as my friend Luke would call it).

The same Luke asked rather cheekily: so what does an editor do all day? Juliet, the editor of Gardens Illustrated, which is in the same building as Countryfile Magazine, describes it as running around a room of spinning plates making sure none fall to the ground while juggling – while the phone never stops ringing. That's pretty accurate.

For me, the most enjoyable part of the job is sitting with the team bouncing ideas for features, new sections and exciting new bits on the website. Even better if we manage to escape to a local pub for a bit of added inspiration. Well, that's my dream. It hasn't happened yet but it ties in with another key role – keeping the team happy. Several of them also blog on the site so please let me know if they start sounding rebellious.

Second is reading and responding to reader comments and emails. That (and the number of magazines we sell) is the only way we know we're creating something people want to read. So let me know your thoughts.www.bbccountryfilemagazine.com/webform/contact-us
 
Then it's the commissioning. Finding the best people to write for the magazine and chatting with them about their passions – and how we include them in the magazine. Today, I emailed Julia Bradbury about a great and controversial idea for a feature she's had – I'm not going to give it away now but definitely one not to miss in the new year.

At the end of an enormously long list, there's all the admin and the budgets. Hope you're not asleep by now.
 
Roll on the weekend, when I can get back out into the countryside. I'm hoping to head for the Marlborough Downs in Wiltshire to do a little bit of research into a feature I'm writing for our Easter special issue (on sale 9 March).

So if you're in the vicinity of Avebury this weekend, you might see a slightly harassed editor taking a breather!

Hello, I’m Fergus and I’m taking over from Cavan as editor of Countryfile magazine in December this year.

I used to work on BBC Wildlife magazine and I’m delighted that there’s plenty of nature in Countryfile magazine, too. Wildlife brings our countryside to life and if you learn to identify a few birds, insects and plants, any walk becomes richer and more exciting.

Birdsong, of course, provides the soundtrack to any outing. However, at this time of year, our birds are busy feeding up on autumn berries and seeds to prepare for the tougher times ahead. One bird you will hear is the robin. The male sings throughout winter, a wistful cascade of notes sung from the now bare branches of trees. It’s as if he likes to get a headstart on staking out a breeding territory for next spring. www.rspb.org.uk/wildlife/birdguide/name/r/robin/index.aspx

Other birds are on the move. There seem to be a huge influx of redwings this year. These jaunty little thrushes with flashes of red on their flanks are winter visitors from Scandinavia and love to plunder hedgerow berries. If you live in a city, you might hear them migrating overhead at night. They make a high-pitched ‘tseeeeep’. Once you’ve heard it for the first time, you’ll never forget it. It’s a great way to impress friends on a walk home from the pub. www.rspb.org.uk/wildlife/birdguide/name/r/redwing/index.aspx

Late autumn is a also great time to walk in the woods. The fallen leaves and stark trees create a heady atmosphere and the lack of foliage makes it much easier to spot mammals such as deer and foxes. I’ll be off to my favourite forest near Bristol: Lower Woods. It’s magical and very few people go there. www.avonwildlifetrust.org.uk/reserves/lower_woods.htm

Countryfile presenter Matt Baker is lucky enough to have his own ancient wood to roam in. Read about his experiences…

The other Countryfile presenters have been getting to grips with British wildlife too. Julia Bradbury visited one of my favourite wildlife havens earlier this year – Skomer off the coast of west Wales. And she came face to face with the Pembrokeshire parrot. Read more...

Meanwhile, John Craven explains why the world needs to love wetlands - crucial habitats for a number of species. Read more...

There’s plenty more about our wonderful wildlife on the Countryfile website such as these articles by Kate Humble and the BBC’s best birdwatcher, Stephen Moss…

Find out more about British wildlife.

Yesterday I noticed a slight upturn in traffic on this website. Only a small spike, but obvious all the same. A quick dip into the site’s statistics showed that a whole host of people seem to have found countryfilemagazine.com via an online shooting community. Intrigued I googled the community and tracked down a post from a relatively new poster asking his fellow members to visit the site to “address the imbalance of country sports v. non-country sports posters”. I carried on reading. Most of the posters seemed to see our forum as a new way of meeting and educating those interesting in the countryside about their hobby. All well and good, as there are many reasons people grow to love the countryside, be it through work, walking or watching wildlife. Then a few – and only a few, mind – started talking about battle cries, trench warfare and seeing how long it would take to get banned.