Naughty Wildlife

Wildlife is good and we should make more space for it.

That's the mantra.
And of course I agree with it.
However, wildlife doesn't always respect our boundaries.

We love our garden and have designated areas for wildlife, such as the pond, the bird feeders and the bug houses. But recently some animal has been failing to read the signs - our lawn is dotted with yellow dinner-plate-sized patches.  The grass is dead where something has been weeing on it.
Similarly my parents love feeding the birds and keep the bird food in the side passage inside a sturdy plastic bin whose lid is secured by two strong rubber bungees.  Lately, at night, something has been efficiently removing the bungees and eating the bird food. 

We don’t think it’s a robin.

Our unruly specimen of wildlife turned out to be a mangy urban fox which marks our lawn as its territory.  Since it has also been seen bringing its cubs round to salivate over our pet doves, we felt less than amicable and moved the bird bath which used to help it jump our fence.

 When my Dad met their burglar, however, it turned out to be a very winsome badger.  Dad sounded rather charmed by it.  Perhaps I should see if I can get on the internet and buy them some badger food.  They can keep it in that handy plastic bin.

ITALY TRIP - Ancient Soundscape

Living on the edge of a market town close to London, our evening soundscape is quite meagre. Rustling often turns out to be merely the neighbour watering their plants.

Police/ambulance sirens also feature.

However in a villa on a wooded hill in Tuscany we had a taste of what the soundscape could be.  Perhaps this was how it used to be in our country.

We could hear the chirring of nightjars, the staccato chirping of crickets, the distant liquid song of a nightjar. 

A tawny owl called too-wit too-woo and a fox barked. A badger rustled heavily just beyond the fence.

But the creature which completely defied identification was something which inhabited the bushes near the terrace and at regular intervals uttered a harsh “Pssst!” as if trying to attract our attention.

I did not even know whether it was a bird, reptile or mammal, so went online to research.  I was just playing a wildlife recording when Carenza happened along. (The offspring had joined us for this leg of the journey.)

“What are you doing, Mum?”

“I’m listening to recordings of Tuscan owls.”

“Oh Mum!” she said, turning on her heel. “I’ve never heard anything so middle class in my life!”

And no, I never did find out what went "Pssst".