Free as a Bird...

With the summer in full flow, and the weather being so pleasant of late, it's been a good season for baby birds. On a sunny patch of grass by the woods I watched a young Magpie being fed by its parent.

"Feed me, feed me!"...

"More, more...."

They flew off towards the stream, cackling and squawking. The smaller birds wisely kept their distance from the dangerous duo... except one.

Oblivious to any threat, this little chap just sauntered about without a care in the world. She wasn't going to survive out in the wilds for long with such a reckless disregard for danger. There were Magpies, Crows, dogs, cats, foxes, as well as Sparrowhawks all out and about looking for an easy snack.

After a bit of a chat, Budgie and I decided that it would be probably for the best if she came home with me.

She's a pretty bird even though it does look like she's only got one leg. I can assure you that there are actually two!

Look, two legs... damn! How difficult should it be to prove a budgie has two legs?!!!

Right, there we are... two legs.

She's settled in fine. Happy to sit on my hand, and poo in my cup of tea while I'm not looking. We watch the Magpies through the window together, a much safer option.



I've even trained her to fly in slow motion!

Fox Tales... Nap Time.

She may try and look mean, with her best "I'm a big bad wolf stare", but really she's a softy.

It's just an act to keep the cubs in line, now that they're getting to that 'boisterous' stage.

Sometimes they're very cheeky, snatching food from right under her nose. If there is something you want to avoid, it is getting between a fox and it's food, I have the bite marks to prove it!

Out of the two remaining cubs, this is the most confident one, always getting into trouble. He's wet from playing 'catch the moth reflections' in the puddle.

A bit of running around through the tall grass soon left him dry and fluffy again.

His sibling is a little smaller, but can hold its own in a squabble over nosh.

When they were young there was a third cub, but nature doesn't favour all, and now there are just the two of them. It was a cold, hard winter, and foxes vary their litter size according to conditions, it seems even three was too many.



Once the cubs had had their fill of food, they went off to practice their hunting skills by terrorising the beetles attempting to make the already perilous journey across the desert of the country lane.

There's nothing like sitting on the warm tarmac under the stars, sharing a few raisins with a friend.

A combination of tiredness bought on by the incessant attentions of the cubs, and the brightness of the camera flash, soon caused sleepy eyes to appear...

... and 'nap time' quickly followed.

I'm Quarry Quarry...

I went for a walk by the sand quarries up on the hill. The air was heavy with the heady aroma of the Gorse in full bloom. The flowers smell of almonds. Although they're edible, I find them a bit bitter, but they are good for making salads look pretty.

There's been hardly any rain lately, the ground was dry and cracked. Normally these shallow silt bottomed puddles are great for finding animal tracks. You can tell what the badgers have been up to, and if the invisible deer herd has come through recently. I say 'invisible' because I see tracks, hair, nibbled foliage, mangled saplings from bucks rubbing their antlers, their mud hollows, and flattened areas where they've slept, but never ever see the deer themselves... Invisible, the only explanation!

As I made my way along the edge of the quarry, I got the feeling I was being watched. There was no one there, hardly anyone ever comes here. The occasional rustle, crack of a twig, but as soon as I turned to look... silence. The buzzard was up on the hill, surveying his world from his lookout post. He'd got his eye on something, he was staring at a dense patch of gorse behind me. Suddenly, spooked, he flew off. I got the feeling that I was being stalked by something.

The day was pleasant enough, but there was a nagging cold north wind. I headed down into the old woods where it was more sheltered and strung my hammock up in my usual spot between an ancient Yew and a young Oak.
I settled down with a flask of coffee and a great book... Running with the Fox by David Macdonald.

Every so often I heard a noise in the undergrowth. There was definitely something out there.

Then my pursuer showed himself. It was my old acquaintance. This isn't one of the foxes from the family of foxes that I go to see each night and feed. This is a good number of miles away.

We met last year when he came to investigate the smell of the bacon sandwiches I was cooking. We met a second time when I was scrambling to the top of a steep grass incline, and he was coming up the other side. We came nose to nose, paused and went quickly our separate ways. Since then we see each other from a distance, sometimes he barks to me to let me know he's seen me.

He's become used to me being around, and realises that I mean him no harm. Curiosity gets the better of him and he'll come to have a gander sometimes.

This wood is deserted, as well as the quarry and so he seems comfortable to spend a lot of time out in the daytime.

Once he ascertained that there were no bits of bacon to be had, he was off to catch some more voles.

Fox Tales... Full Circle.

It's been over a year since I first met this little fox, just a tiny fox cub playing on the road. Now fully grown we've learnt to trust each other. I visit every night and we've become friends. She'll sit by my feet, untie my shoelaces, pinch my hat, jump onto the bonnet of my car, and take food so very gently from my hand.

I'm even trusted not to steal the skillfully hunted shrews carefully laid down side by side for a special occasion.

With a distinctive whimpering sound, she called one of the cubs out, encouraging it to investigate the couple of shrews at my feet. I felt honoured to be introduced.

Nervous at first, a bit of food laid out on the usual 'feeding rock' soon had it bounding around with confidence.

Mom was obviously really hungry and was keen to eat in peace for at least a little while. The cub kept its distance fearing a disapproving bark.

Eventually though the smell of the food got the better of it and he crept ever closer.

Mom looked despaired for a moment, she was obviously very tired...

... but then decided to share.

There was a bit of extra food put down that night to make things easier.

The foxes have come full circle, with cubs once again wrestling in the grass outside the abandoned cottage. I feel privileged to be included in this extended family, fascinated by the complexity of fox society, and eager to learn more.

Deer Friends are new Neighbours

As the towns sprawl ever further into the countryside, I've noticed that the wildlife is beginning to adapt, seeking refuge in the suburbs. The foxes have accustomed well to this environment often living right under our noses unnoticed. More and more I come across signs that deer too are our new neighbours. You might be unaware of their presence but the evidence is there. Food missing from bird tables, choice plants or blooms nibbled away, or the minute little hoofs marks in a soily border. The culprit? The tiny Muntjac deer. The ability to breed all year round, remain hidden in the undergrowth of the most modest garden, and to exist a solitary lifestyle causing little impact to its environment, has meant that it's spread across the country has been inconspicuous.

Although I've come across them during the day in the countryside, in the suburbs they wisely use the cover of darkness. Usually I only spot them in the distance as they cross the roads between parkland and gardens. Their eyes reflect the car headlights, and combined with the pale part of their ears, they can take on the appearance of a Hyena when viewed head on!

Fruitless attempts to film them in an urban setting have left me frustrated, so it was ironic that, after many hours of searching I managed to video this chap just a few hundred yards away from my house.

Their call is very similar to a fox and easily confused (hear it here), but it is slightly harsher, more metallic and less 'musical'. So if you hear what you think are foxes calling in the night, the roses aren't flowering too well this year, and the garden birds are looking hungry... then maybe you have a deer friend too!

No Bacon is Snow Fun...

Snow at last! I love the snow. Other parts of the country have had a covering several times already this year, but we've only had the brass monkey temperatures without any of the fun stuff...

In the early hours I set off along the deserted roads. A quick stop at the petrol station, followed by a couple of drifting laps of the traffic island... the joy of 'left foot braking'!!!

The sparkly, powdered country lanes were beautiful in the glare of the rooflights. Spangles of silver danced in the beams as the front of the car flicked snow off the hedgerows. Driving sideways is so much fun!

I went to see my friends, the foxes. The usual chappy was there (you can recognise him by the nick out of his left ear).

He was somewhat impatient, and wouldn't stand still long enough for me to properly focus the camera. He's learnt how to open the car door, and was soon wrestling with the locked handle... he's going to break it one day!

On the menu tonight was, 'Bacon Surprise'... bread soaked in bacon fat but without any bacon... Surprise!!!

Still it smelt nice.

Very nice...

In fact it tasted so yummy that it made you forget that your bottom was getting cold on the snow.

"I wonder if there'll be raisins for pudding?"... I'm sure we can manage that.

Winter Coats with Ermine Trim...

The local lanes were flooded. I had to take a long winded route to get to see the fox cubs and was running rather late. He waited watching for the car door to open...

... but it was all taking much too long. Impatiently he jumped up on the bonnet peeking in to see what the delay was.

Scampering back and forth, he first stared at what I was doing, then leant round to see if the door was opening yet.

Then it was the cute 'feed me' face that he has perfected so well. The hunting hasn't been so easy with the fields so flooded and a little bit of extra food seemed to go down rather nicely.

I still call them cubs, but really they are all grown up. They are getting their winter coats, thicker with silver flanks, and their brush is really full (the perfect duvet and pillow to curl up with).

Homeward bound took me along a dark lane where suicidal rabbits play 'chicken' with the car, so I kept my eyes peeled for any potential jay walkers. In the distance, one particular rabbit stood out from the rest, fluorescing in the spotlights.

As I got closer, the peculiar running style looked more like that of a Stoat. Brilliant white, I first thought it must be an Ermine (a Stoat with its white winter coat), but it wasn't cold enough and all the local Stoats are still in their dark summer fur.

It was clear as I got out of the car that this wasn't a wild animal. It was an albino Ferret. It wasn't afraid of humans and allowed me to get quite close. As soon as I attempted to corner it , it would play 'hide and seek' down the numerous rabbit burrows.

I placed some food down a rabbit hole, and left. The next day I went back with a box and some thick leather motorcycle gloves, but it was gone. Lets hope it keeps itself out of trouble, there are plenty of foxes and owls that would find the poorly camouflaged chappess an easy snack, and it's not used to the wicked ways of the wild...