Hen weekends often involve spa days, late-night dancing, and heartfelt toasts to the bride-to-be.

We're planning a hen weekend in the Lake District to celebrate her last days of single life.

For our dinner party, I roasted a Cornish hen with rosemary and lemon.

While hiking in the boreal forest, I spotted a spruce hen feeding quietly on the forest floor.

In early spring the old hedgerow released the damp scent of hen-mould, that rich black, spongy soil favoured by root crops.

The grey hen blended into the heather as the male black grouse displayed nearby.

A mallee hen carefully scratched at the dry leaves to keep her nesting mound warm.

They mother-hen the new hires, checking in multiple times a day and bringing extra snacks just to be safe.

Each spring I divide my hen and chicken succulents into separate pots so they can multiply.

At the edge of the marsh, a rice hen stealthily foraged among the cattails.