The Log Pile

Good news! Myodes glareolus (formerly Clethrionomys glareolus) have moved into the new log pile in front of the woodland hide, although of course it's distinctly possible we located the log pile above their previous home. Now, having been captivated by the furtive commings and goings of these little creatures over the last few weeks, it seemed only right somehow, that my virgin forrays into the blogosphere and Flickr should be launched under the Bank Vole banner.

In all honesty I can't pretend that I totally identify with BV's lowly position in the food chain, nor would my hypertension manage too well at around 450 heart beats per minute - none the less - they seem to display a combination of audacity and stealth, mad cap daring and timid caution that sits well with your man and maybe, sets the tone for the eclectic mix of nature and nonsense that I hope these chronicals will become.

As for unwelcome lunch appointments, I can't claim that I  have seen any Weasels or Stoats in the vicinity of their home (yet!), but Owls, Sparrowhawk, Kestrel, Foxes and Mink are certainly present. So our heros 18 inch dash from cover to grab spilt seed from the bird tables, must feel like a lifetimes exposure to natures paparazzi. Next time you overexposed celebrities, are complaining about the eyes of the lens on you, remember, those flashing eyes are only after big bucks - not big bites.

Then there are the bully boy Grey Squirrels, with their polished politicians personas looking like peanut butter wouldn't melt in their mouths, whilst hoovering up as much bird food they can find, before they start on the real thing come spring.

Now, before I get labelled a Grey hating radical and no, I am not advocating eating anything that's ostensibly cute because it's in oversuppy (although lamb is quite a good place to start if so inclined), I do have a concern that on my local nature reserve the Greys are starting to outnumber the trees and sooner or later this is going to impact on the birdlife's ability to rear young successfully. Answers on a post card (or menu) please.

Finally for this opening gambit - FRUSTRATION - having spent the last 5 months getting a flat woodgrained section on my bum, whilst waiting for a good photo opportunity of a Sparrowhawk in front of the forementioned Woodland hide, today a young female made 6 unsuccessful attacks on the birds around the feeder points about 10 feet in front of me, without this partculat numpty managing to get the Nikon lined up on target once. Worse still it actually touched down on the new feeding table for a few seconds whilst "Simon King" here tried to work out how he had accidentally reset his focus points off centre.