We may call it a moment of genius. It takes an object – a rock, a stick, a tool – and applies it to purpose never before imagined. We admire crows that use traffic to crack open nuts, elephants that swat flies with branches, and badgers that convert trailcams into toys.
Okay, maybe the last one is less brilliance than simple mischief. Be that as it may, Trailcam2 is gone. The strap has been chewed through by badger cubs and the camera dragged underground!
And there it will stay, at least until the badgers shove it outwards during their regular sett cleaning forays. I hope I do see it again eventually because I’m sure the footage that it has obtained during its captivity is spellbinding. Otherwise, an archaeologist in a few centuries’ time will ponder the meaning of a small rectangular camera deep inside a Surrey hill.
But even when the path has been trodden before, nature has the feeling of a pioneer. A toadlet venturing from its breeding pond into the wood cannot guess how many generations have preceded it.
It is the first of its journeys, after all. Not like the rain, which is evaporated and precipitated over and over again.
As for the badgers, they write their stories in rocks as well as on trailcams. Scratch marks on chalk tell of their travels.
Here’s a still that I got from Trailcam2 last week.
It was a good camera, and it will be missed – and replaced, of course.
But the badgers will still play whether they are watched or not.