While a lot of people that I talk to say that they would love to see wildlife, most of them are not willing to make the effort, or have the patients to wait and watch. I do understand that people have busy lives, but the rewards garnered from just sitting quietly can be so rewarding. That is perhaps why so many people see my watching of wildlife as being so eccentric. I have been told to my face that I am weird, yet equally complete strangers will tell me of their encounters with the natural world.
Often the greatest obstacles to getting people to share the experience is getting them up and out of bed early, and then getting them to keep quiet. In the past I have taken people to see wildlife, but as is often the case, you may not see what you hope to see. However, there will always be something that you will see, even if it’s a frequently seen bird, just sitting waiting and watching can be rewarding.
Where I can agree that I am different is that I am prepared to wait out in the cold and often damp conditions during the night. With the waxing moon, or the full moon, there is surprisingly a lot of light to see by. Obviously this depends upon cloud cover, as the clouds can and frequently do cut off this illumination. But having cloudless skies does mean that the nights are colder. However, whatever the conditions, watching wildlife in the dark is never easy. It’s often your other senses that tell you what’s there.
Watching Badgers will frequently lead you to encounters with foxes, but it is often owls that are your most frequent companions in the night. Only the other night while sitting up a tree over looking one of the entrances to a particular Badger sett, I had the indignity of having a tawny owl regurgitate its pellet down on to my head. Had it not fallen on to my lap I may not have realised exactly what it was. However, it’s normally their calls that alert me to their presence. Just as it is the sounds that tell me when the mice and voles are about.
One strange noise that I have been hearing I have now discerned what was causing it. I had been hearing sounds of something moving earth or digging, but it was not the badgers, as on more than one occasion it was so close that had it been a Badger, Fox or even a rabbit I would have seen it. I had already made a good working hypothesis that it was a mole, but I needed to be sure. Then last night I saw in a clearly in a pool of moonlight, a mole poking its head out of the ground. That solved that mystery but proved that no matter how much experience any of us has, there is more to learn and much more to delight us.
While the night is teaming with movement and sounds, it is when new day nears that the song of dawn really delights the ears. It’s normally the Robin that is the first to sing, followed by the ubiquitous blackbird and chaffinch, while the tits provide the backing vocals.
As the sun lifts it light the woodland stage of a new day. That’s what makes the eccentricity of spending my nights uncomfortably perched so worthwhile.
Often the greatest obstacles to getting people to share the experience is getting them up and out of bed early, and then getting them to keep quiet. In the past I have taken people to see wildlife, but as is often the case, you may not see what you hope to see. However, there will always be something that you will see, even if it’s a frequently seen bird, just sitting waiting and watching can be rewarding.
Where I can agree that I am different is that I am prepared to wait out in the cold and often damp conditions during the night. With the waxing moon, or the full moon, there is surprisingly a lot of light to see by. Obviously this depends upon cloud cover, as the clouds can and frequently do cut off this illumination. But having cloudless skies does mean that the nights are colder. However, whatever the conditions, watching wildlife in the dark is never easy. It’s often your other senses that tell you what’s there.
Watching Badgers will frequently lead you to encounters with foxes, but it is often owls that are your most frequent companions in the night. Only the other night while sitting up a tree over looking one of the entrances to a particular Badger sett, I had the indignity of having a tawny owl regurgitate its pellet down on to my head. Had it not fallen on to my lap I may not have realised exactly what it was. However, it’s normally their calls that alert me to their presence. Just as it is the sounds that tell me when the mice and voles are about.
One strange noise that I have been hearing I have now discerned what was causing it. I had been hearing sounds of something moving earth or digging, but it was not the badgers, as on more than one occasion it was so close that had it been a Badger, Fox or even a rabbit I would have seen it. I had already made a good working hypothesis that it was a mole, but I needed to be sure. Then last night I saw in a clearly in a pool of moonlight, a mole poking its head out of the ground. That solved that mystery but proved that no matter how much experience any of us has, there is more to learn and much more to delight us.
While the night is teaming with movement and sounds, it is when new day nears that the song of dawn really delights the ears. It’s normally the Robin that is the first to sing, followed by the ubiquitous blackbird and chaffinch, while the tits provide the backing vocals.
As the sun lifts it light the woodland stage of a new day. That’s what makes the eccentricity of spending my nights uncomfortably perched so worthwhile.
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1 comment:
The video didn't show for me :(. I went out early one morning as a young teen with a mentor, and we did see alot, although he said I was noisy! LOL. I am more of a night owl rather than an early riser.
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