Nature is always awe inspiring. She always has the
ability to show grimace as well as breath-taking charm and has always managed
without effort to keep me enthralled throughout the whole of my life. I truly believe the real value of an acre of
land is the wildlife that can be sustained within it and this can so often be
of no profit at all to the landowner or farmer but absolutely priceless to the
most enlightening force on this earth, Nature.
As the valleys get more and more flooded the voles and the
moles and all the small mammals have been moving to higher ground. The river meadows, the feeding grounds of the
Barn owls and the Long-eared owls have been left empty of the owl sustenance.
They can now be seen hunting the hedgerows more and more. Their diversifying behaviour on exploring new
hunting grounds to counter balance these almost biblical like down pours is
totally inspiring. This winter it has gone on and on and this January has been
the wettest January on record. Since
just after Christmas I have noticed the rats in particular move in to the
woodlands in ever increasing numbers.
The saying goes, ‘no one being is ever further than three yards away
from a rat.’
February, arguably the most important month for the
badger. Any time from the middle of
February new badger life is borne into the woodlands. And as I watched them mid-week, geed up with
the news that Shell Oil is pulling out of oil exploration in the Antarctic, the
number of rats that were visible around the badger sett seemed quite
alarming. I noticed the build-up more so
this last couple of weeks. It seemed to
me the more it rained the more rats were apparent. Dini the fox didn’t seem to be making much
headway in the reduction of numbers which was hardly surprising as the female badgers
had fanned out through this hardwood woodland to form their own setts to make
ready for their own expectant cubs. From
Daddy Cool’s throne in the North of the woodland to the flooded river meadows
to the raging rivers to the South, to me sat here, Dini’s territory seemed
huge. The Tawny owls, the Long-eared
owls, the Barn owls were taking the small rats but the big ones were still very
much in evidence.
Daddy Cool, the master of the outfit, the protector,
seemed perplexed. The odd rat around a
badger sett was nothing new, but these numbers I could see he was finding
difficult to comprehend and was noticeably uncomfortable with the
situation. Daddy Cool, along with a few
females would run at the rats, almost trying in a futile way to disperse them. To me as an onlooker having witnessed the
situation get worse, I started to feel concerned for rats in these numbers, if
push comes to shove, would, when opportunity arises would be down in the setts
and devour the baby badgers. For that
scenario to take place, all that would be needed is, to endure a prolonged cold
snap forcing the mother badger out of the sett for food leaving her cubs vulnerable
to the rats’ devices.
One must never intervene with nature because generally
speaking nature is even handed. I
remember from years gone by when people weren’t as environmentally savvy as
they are today and to protect young trees from squirrel damage landowners would
bait the bottom of some trees with rat poison.
The desired effect was always met, it ended the squirrel damage within a
weeks or so but along with it, it annihilated everything else within that woodland. The reduction of our raptors, the Barn owls becoming
almost extinct in certain areas, was down solely to the mismanaged use of rat
poison. Once a rat or mouse has had rat
poison it makes him dozy, sluggish, and looking for water and so an animal that
is normally, solely nocturnal is seen in the daytime often around a puddle of
water having to quench his thirst. Once
the rats and mice has broken cover looking for water that is when they become
fair game for all of nature’s predators.
I have always
stood against poisons in every form.
They should only be ever used in the most exacting of circumstances, if
used at all under license.
The badger cull of 2013 did untold damage to our badger
population and I like to think nature has responded to this by giving the
badger the kindest winter I can ever remember in forty years of studying
badgers. The badgers are in peak
condition but the down side of this, the woodland is now being overrun with
rats while escaping this deluge of rain.
As I sat in my hide watching the events unfold, a
munkjack then came into view. He too
looked thoroughly unsettled with the rat situation. A lot of the rabbits appeared also to have
moved on, and there was a sense of anticipation, a sense of surprise, almost
suspense as the rain again started to fall onto this already sodden ground. Daddy
Cool had made his rounds of the woodland, the other badgers had been on their
foraging missions, but this night, it was as if they were waiting for an answer
from nature to help relieve them from this intolerable plight.
As I sat quietly watching, a couple of rats played the
age old game of round and round the mulberry bush and then everything
stopped. The rain was still falling
steadily and I expected to see Dini the fox for the rats’ behaviour was that of
fright. I sat there in total stillness
and silence, a couple of minutes passed and then it was as if the darkness
curtain had been lifted from the woodland and there right in front of me was
the lone spur, nature’s very own Piped Piper of Hamlyn, the Polecat. On seeing him, I could hear my heart sing for
nature had sent the equalizer. Soon
normality would once again be the order of the day throughout the
woodland. Daddy Cool’s calls had been
answered.
When one watches a fox on his ratting mission you witness
nature’s poetry, its elegance, its prowess, its cunning, its skill, truly
mesmerising. But when you witness the ratting technique of a polecat, stoat or
weazle you see a master class. Brutality, power, nature’s Exocet missile, a
true heat seeker that once on its prey will stop at nothing until his jaws are
locked in a vice-like grip on its prey.
If its prey burrows so will the polecat, if its prey climbs so will the
polecat, if its prey swims, so will the polecat, if its prey runs so will the
polecat and it will run and run and run until it totally exhausts its
prey. A polecat can cover two miles and
still kill in the same exactly measured brutal zero tolerance fashion as if it
had just awoken from a relaxing sleep.
I found it quite amazing for polecats have become very
rare and are seldom seen in the wild due to years of persecution. The Victorians used to pay a halfpenny per
rat tail to the old ratters of London town.
If this same bounty was given to the polecat he would be the richest
animal in the countryside. Mother Nature
seemed to me to be squarely behind the badger, pitting her wits to enable to
sustain and stabilize a decreasing badger population, and once again didn’t
hesitate to pick up the gauntlet on the badgers’ behalf.
Please watch my short film, Badgers' Own Piped Piper of Hamlyn
The 131 anti-cull
petition needs more signatures.
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