A Walk with Wildlife

We’re used to the idea. When the land warms, flowers open. When light fades, bats take to the wing. The sun does nuance just as deftly as it holds a solar system in orbit. And at the moment it is doing something unusual: baking England like grilled toast day in, day out, until our meadows look like savannahs and grass could be taken for ripened wheat.

But life is a stubborn thing. The sun may tug many strings, but it cannot prevent deer leaping about for fun.

A creche of fallow fawns, born during the sunblast, knowing nothing but a sunblast, and now playing tag with a hind in the bounciest of spirits.

For foxes, the sun means slimline summer fur, but seasons change in their hormones as well as the atmosphere. The cubs are “teenagers” now, lanky and full of mischief.

Soon the males will disperse in search of new adventures, but they will have substantial growing to do before they can rival the likes of this fox. His years are written in his broad skull and stocky build, and he rules his territory with enigmatic calm.

He will have seen dry summers before, but not as tough as this. Yet it is another of our mesopredators that is having to adapt the most.

Yes, this is a badger and yes, this is real daylight. He rustled through the brambles not ten feet ahead of me on my hike this morning, pausing on the footpath before lumbering on.

Badger in daylight; not unheard of, but uncommon. Is this due to the sun’s games? Yes, in a word; it is not easy to hunt earthworms when the ground is like concrete so many badgers have extended their operating hours. Thankfully, respite is coming. Blackberries will soon be juicy and ripe, and badgers, foxes and humans will all have a feast.

In the longer term, we need rain. And an autumn that turns the grass green again.