RichmondRound

The art of keeping your distance

If you have seen a deer in Richmond Park lately, you have likely noticed something: they do not come close. This is not timidity. It is survival.

The herds move through the bracken with an exact sense of range. They graze, they watch, they keep thirty metres between themselves and you. This distance is not random. It is the space that allows them to bolt if they need to, and to stay calm if they do not.

Right now, with roses reaching their peak in the borough’s gardens, the contrast is sharp. Roses ask you to lean in. Deer ask you to stay back. Both have their logic.

The law here is clear: do not approach the deer. Do not feed them. Do not try to photograph them from five paces. They are wild animals in a managed landscape, and the distance they keep is part of the deal.

If you walk through the park on a still morning, you might see a hind lift her head, assess you, then return to grazing. She has measured the gap and decided you are fine where you are.

Respect works both ways.

Have you spotted the herds this week? Share a photograph from a respectful distance.

Leave a response

Leave a response

The hum of a still summer garden

On a hot, breathless afternoon, when even the breeze seems to have given up, your garden becomes a theatre of small dramas. Stand still for a moment. Listen. The air hums. Lavender spikes are thick with bees right now, their bodies dusted gold with pollen. They work methodically, flower to flower, oblivious to the heat. […]

· No responses yet ·

The first butterfly is here

You see it before you quite register what it is. A flicker of orange and brown low over the grass, then gone. The small tortoiseshell is often the first butterfly you’ll spot in Richmond upon Thames, emerging on warm February days or, more reliably, in March. It spent winter tucked in a shed or hollow […]

· No responses yet ·

The dragonflies are back at the ponds

You might have spotted them already. The dragonflies have returned to Richmond’s ponds and quieter stretches of the Thames. They hover, dart, and hang suspended above the water like tiny helicopters made of stained glass. The common darter is usually the first you’ll see: rusty red, quick to settle on a warm stone. Then come […]

· No responses yet ·

The moths at the window on a summer night

You leave the kitchen light on after washing up, and within minutes they arrive. Pale wings tap against the glass. Some hover, some settle, some circle in that erratic flight that looks like bad navigation but is perfect purpose. Richmond upon Thames hosts over three hundred moth species. Most never trouble your vision. They pollinate […]

· No responses yet ·

The garden hum you never think to name

You notice the roses first. The climbers at Marble Hill, the borders along Petersham Road, the pink flush in your neighbour’s front patch. Peak season means colour, yes, but also sound. Stand still for a moment and the hum arrives. Honeybees working the petals, hoverflies hovering, mining bees slipping into the earth beneath. Most of […]

· No responses yet ·

The Bench

A different conversation about Richmond, every day.