The Log Pile – One Year On

One year on from my first foray into the world of blog and much to my surprise, I find myself again putting digit to keyboard for the first anniversary edition of the ToaBV diary.

If nothing else, I hope that this indicates that whilst I may have been a creature of fads, fancies and short-lived madcap ideas for much of my life and often still have the concentration span of a goldfish with Alzheimer's, my interest in and enjoyment of all things natural and wild, remains constant.

When I kicked off back in Jan 2012 my inspiration for these pages had been stirred by the activities of a colony of Bank Voles, which had inhabited a log pile build close to the woodland hide at my local nature reserve (HESC). Over the course of the year this woodpile has suffered assaults from vandals, floods and predators small and large and has needed to be reinforced and rebuilt on a number of occasions. During this time the Bank Voles resolutely remained in residence and provided much entertainment to those in the hide by scampering out to collect seed spilled from the bird feeders – not to mention various other offerings provided by the visitors.

Our original hero

Sadly however, as the December days went by, the lack of activity suggested that the Voles had finally vacated the woodpile and moved to pastures new (or possibly the great log pile in the sky). I suspect the combination of flooding and local Weasel activity had proved too much to bear.

Weasel, (Mustela nivalis) close to the log pile, the Weasel is the smallest 
member of the Mustelidae family which of course includes the Otter

I was, therefore, surprised and delighted when visiting the woodland hide last Sunday, to be told that something very small and furry was moving around the bottom of the log pile. Sure enough after a while I too caught a glimpse of the new inhabitants scurrying out to collect fallen seed – this time though they were if anything even smaller than the Bank Voles, but with longer pointy noses – we appeared to have a family of Common Shrews. The reference books advise that the body of the Common Shrew is around 2cm (approx ¾ inch) shorter than that of the BV but to the naked eye they look even smaller than that. One other thing was immediately apparent, they are certainly no slower over the ground than BV and getting a good photograph was going to be something of a challenge.

Well you can just about tell it's a Shrew

So whilst the resolute people of this Great Isle deprive themselves of food, fags and booze – at least for a few weeks anyway – I shall accept a far more daunting challenge.

I am determined, 2013 will see the full “Framing of the Shrew”.

Postscript 
or Four or Five Shades of Grey (and quite a bit of brown) 

Who's a cheeky girl then

Did you know that the Dunnock (sometimes called the Hedge Sparrow) has a rather intriguing sex life. Apparently not long after taking a mate and doing the business, Mrs D often pops into the bushes for an assignation with another male Dunnock (her back door man in the parlance of the blues). She then returns to her original love and no doubt consumed with guilt, twiddles her tail and displays her lady bits. He, clearly concerned by this behaviour, then pecks at the aforementioned part until she has ejected her previous lovers seed, whereupon, they re-consummate the relationship and he can be satisfied, that any forthcoming offspring will all be his. Probably.