The David Charles Newsletter

We stood still for a moment. And there it was again: the churring, two stroke engine of the nightjar, coming from here, there and everywhere in the gorse around us. We waited and then — there! He broke cover, inquisitive, flying around and around us in circles, angel wings against the disappearing horizon.

Last week I planted my own stress relief. My partner and son were away on holiday and, unexpectedly bereft, I decided that a spot of gardening would be a decent outlet for my nurturing instincts.

Imagine being on fire and flayed alive... Imagine you’re on fire. Not metaphorically, like when you’re ‘on fire’ after two espressos. Fully on fire, like a volcano or a candle. I know, right? — bad day. But just when you think the worst is over, a man with a knife and a big beard comes along and skins you alive. This is called ‘flaying’. Thanks Wikipedia. Not many humans are coming back from that. But there’s a tree in Crystal Palace Park that LIVES for this kind of abuse. Do you know which?

Somewhere in Southeast London this week, a bee landed on a flower blazing with ultraviolet lights invisible to every human walking past. Welcome to the first episode of my Summer series, which this week will focus on our precious sense of sight. Coming at a rate of about once a fortnight, future episodes in Summer will touch on our senses of hearing, smell, taste and, well, touch.

There I was: a balding middle-aged man in a big orange coat making hoo-hoo train noises as loudly as I could in a public park at night — only somewhat legitimised to bewildered joggers by the nine other people listening to this middle-aged man making hoo-hoo train noises as loudly as he could — all in the vain hope of attracting an owl. After a few minutes, I turned away: ‘Well that didn’t work,’ I said. ‘Good thing I enjoy embarrassing myself in public.’ Everyone laughed politely.

Happy New Year and a warm welcome from the Palace. For those of you new around these parts, welcome 👋 My name is David and I’m an outdoor instructor, Expeditions Manager at British Exploring Society, and Advanced Wilderness Therapeutic Guide (in training). In 2026, every edition of this newsletter will give you another nature-based practice you can use right now to develop a deeper connection with yourself, with others, and with the world around you.

And a warm welcome from The Ness, where the sea is loud and the beach is stony. For those of you new around these parts, welcome 👋 My name is David and I’m a writer, outdoor instructor, cyclist-at-large with Thighs of Steel, half of the team behind BBC Radio comedy Foiled, Expeditions Manager at British Exploring Society, and Advanced Wilderness Therapeutic Guide (in training). Yes, that is too many hats.

And a warm welcome from the Palace, where we’ve discovered the secret of the perfect cheese toastie: not sliced, grated. For those of you new around these parts, welcome 👋 My name is David and I’m a writer, outdoor instructor, cyclist-at-large with Thighs of Steel, half of the team behind BBC Radio comedy Foiled, Expeditions Manager at British Exploring Society, and Advanced Wilderness Therapeutic Guide (in training). Yes, that is too many hats.

And a warm welcome from the Palace — it’s been a while. For those of you new around these parts, welcome 👋 My name is David and I’m a writer, outdoor instructor, cyclist-at-large with Thighs of Steel, half of the team behind BBC Radio comedy Foiled, Expeditions Manager at British Exploring Society, and Advanced Wilderness Therapeutic Guide in training. Yes, that is too many hats. In this newsletter, I write stories that help you and me understand the world (and ourselves) a little better.

And a warm welcome from the Ness. For those of you new around these parts, welcome 👋 My name is David and I’m a writer, outdoor instructor, cyclist-at-large with Thighs of Steel, half of the team behind BBC Radio comedy Foiled, Expeditions Manager at British Exploring Society, and Advanced Wilderness Therapeutic Guide in training. Yes, that is too many hats. In this newsletter, I write stories that help you and me understand the world (and ourselves) a little better.