My garden and other animals by Mike Dilger

The cheerful face of Mike Dilger — known to millions as "the wildlife guy off the One show" (altogether now: ONE, do-de-do-do-do) — shines out from the cover of this book. This is the story of a move from a soulless, gardenless city flat to a countryside retreat with an unkempt, but huge garden, and the ensuing efforts to make it into a suitably nature-friendly space.

The reason that My garden and other animals didn't make it further than my desk before it was grabbed for review is because I have experienced, tragically, the opposite effect. Some time ago I swapped a beautiful and very wildlife-packed garden for a nasty city flat with not as much as a window-box. I think I was hoping to remind myself how much back-breaking work a large garden brings with it, or the perils of battling bird-food-happy rats, or some other vaguely unhappy experiences. In fact, all I have managed to do is remind myself of just how wonderful it is to share a space with nature, and boy, am I jealous.

Mike's enthusiasm for all things natural is certainly infectious, and the book is a bouncy, informal, thoroughly enjoyable ramble through a gardening year. It manages to combine triumph and disaster, a subtle love-story, copious amounts of wildlife, good advice, hilarious mishaps and moments that any one of us will identify with. Twelve chapters, each a month long, frame the book and lend not only structure, but a certain amount of dip-in-and-out-ability. The year starts in January with the purchase of a slightly ramshackle dwelling, and crucially a long-neglected large garden terminating with a promising brook. February and March are a bit of an uphill battle to beat the garden into shape, but soon spring approaches and the benefits of this radical lifestyle change begin to become clear.

Each month brings with it seasonable wildlife. In March we get a passing lesson on the ecology of bumblebees, in June the moth-trap is put to good use, in August we learn about bat-droppings and in September how to make a fish-trap out of a discarded lemonade bottle. Throughout the year we follow the longer evolution of a (slightly skew-whiff) pond, the installation and care of a coop of charming chickens, and (hooray) a battle with bird-food-happy rats. The other star of the book, Mike's partner Christina, has liberally sprinkled these accounts with beautiful black-and-white illustrations which uniquely capture the character of the flora and fauna therein.

There's plenty to interest birders. The proximity of Mike's new home to Chew Valley Lake ensure that he has some juicy garden ticks, including Shoveler and Little Egret. The year sees his house list standing at a very respectable 61.

The book doesn't shrink from the unhappier aspects of nature: disembowelled Hedgehogs, pulsating chicken bottoms, a smattering of fruity language and bouts of trichomonosis ensure that it isn't a fairy-tale read, and it's all the better for it. There is a wealth of information here, sure to spur anyone with a hint of a passing interest into trying some of it out: I've decided to set a camera trap on the local urban foxes, proving that this isn't just a book for people with large rural gardens. I would heartily recommend this book to anyone.