I have fallen in love.
The object
of my desire is a 12 acre woodland, 3 miles west of Gatwick, just outside the
picturesque West Sussex village of Rusper.
She is
beautiful. I saw her on January 1st 2021 and made an offer that
afternoon. Three weeks ago she finally became mine. The woodland is on the
southern border of a much larger ancient broadleaf woodland, and contains a
glorious mix of oaks, birches and hornbeam, all surrounded by a deep carpet of
bluebells. There is a powerline running across it which provides a wonderful
east-west opening in which rare orchids grow and wildlife surely abounds.
It is no exaggeration to say that this woodland occupies my every waking moment
(and most of my sleeping ones). Our plan is to create a mini wildlife reserve,
working from the soil invertebrates upwards. We have identified 14 habitats we
want to nurture, including a wildflower meadow, properly-thick hedgerows and standing
deadwood (one of the rarest yet most important habitats for woodland birds and
beetles). We are writing a formal 300 year Woodland Management Plan which we
will submit to the appropriate authorities. My intention is to be the
‘custodian’ for the first few decades, before handing it on to others to manage
and preserve.
Since our
key aim with the woodland is to enhance the flora and fauna it is necessary to
gather data regarding the initial ecological baseline. We have initiated a
number of surveys. The West Sussex Bat Society has even agreed to do a detailed
bat tagging survey in early May. After some gentle begging they have agreed to
let me come along. I have no idea what it will involve, or whether we will find
anything (how do you even catch a bat?). It will involve staying up until 3am
on a school night (a Thursday), but I can’t wait. Friday 7th May
will simply have to be a day when I keep my work diary just a little bit
lighter than usual.
We bought
(off eBay) a small 1980s caravan. Through some quirk of fate I had never set
foot in a caravan until it arrived on our driveway. How can I have missed the
excitement of caravans? My wife regarded me with a curious mix of pity, humour
and disappointment as I enthusiastically shared every discovery I made of each
new ingenious cupboard and hidey-hole. We towed it into the centre of the
woodland, painted it grey, covered it with camouflage netting and installed a
photovoltaic power supply*. We positioned it such that the view was deep into
the woodland, with a badger set just 30m away.
A couple of
weeks ago, after a long Saturday ‘woodlanding’ (that should definitely become a
new verb!) I shut myself in the caravan at 5pm and settled down to my first
serious session of wildlife watching. With the caravan door shut (badgers have
a very strong sense of smell) I sat motionless scanning the view. As the
temperature dropped my hands froze around my binoculars. My stomach rumbled but
I wasn’t going to risk moving or making a noise. Also I was certain that there
were numerous animals just beyond my eye-line who were deliberately waiting for
me to turn my back so they could come and dance in front of the caravan while I
wasn’t looking.
Three hours
passed and not one creature of interest appeared. No badgers. No deer. No
unicorns. Not even a sodding squirrel. Once the light had finally faded and my
eyes were straining to see even a few yards I finally gave up. It was only
830pm but it was a cold early April night and I snuggled into my sleeping bag
and lay looking out into the dark, apparently animal-free, woodland. Within
minutes there was a loud hoot, followed by an answering call, and then a
screech. Suddenly the woodland was alive with a growing glorious cacophony of
woodland galumphing and owl calls (or potentially murder victims, it is a
little hard to tell the difference). I woke at 430am feeling at more at one
with the world than I have done for years. The woodland creatures were definitely
present. They were just shy, that was all.
I bought a
£25 motion-activated camera and installed it just in front of the badger set.
Upon detecting movement it would take a photo, wait a second and then take 4
seconds of video. I left it 5 days and then downloaded the files. I had 44
different photos and videos (ie 88 in total). I was super excited to finally
see my resident badgers frolicking in their natural habitat. Perhaps they would
already have young? I opened the first file… Forty of the 44 videos were of a
squirrel. I swear that he had worked out where the camera was and deliberately
performed. It was like watching Scrat from Ice Age. He posed for each
individual shot (‘I am ready for my close up Mr DeMille’). Video number
41 was of a fat, indulgent pigeon walking (not flying!) across the woodland
floor. Shot number 42 was a fox being foxy in the middle of the night, slinking
between the trees. No 43 was a rather beautiful Roe Deer which walked directly
in front of the camera.
Finally I came
to video number 44. It was taken at 3am on the night a couple of weeks ago when
southern England was blanketed with snow. According to the camera sensor it was
minus 3 degC. An animal – whatever it was - came out of the badger set,
and the camera snapped. By the time the video kicked in a second later the
creature was already disappearing back into the set, with just some faint
movements visible on the video. What is clear however is that it is not a
badger. It is a mystery creature. Some people have said it is a rat. If it is,
then it’s the biggest rat in England...
I have now
repositioned the camera directly outside the entrance hole and re-programmed
the camera to record video only. This is an ecology mystery that needs solving.
* The caravan now
serves as my new office. Last week I did a number of zoom calls while sitting
at a desk in the middle of the woodland. (‘Piers, I love that background
screen, it looks so realistic….but could you turn off the distracting
background bird noises?’).
