Little Survivor

I thought I'd put in a piece on a glorious little animal that is now threatened - gone in the south, we still have some in the north: the red squirrel.

This is an endearing, if elusive little creature, made all the more attractive by its daintiness and cute ear tufts. It is now heavily protected by law, but as most people know it is under severe threat. This threat is mainly the invasive grey squirrel, but contrary to popular belief they do not fight and the greys do not kill the reds deliberately. The first problem is that the grey squirrel is infinitely more adaptable and is a threat to the habitat and food supply of the red. The major problem is a disease carried by the greys, that does not affect them, but is fatal to reds, this is the parapox virus.

            Although they were once widespread, the best chance of seeing a red squirrel is in Scotland, central Wales, parts of East Anglia, such as Thetford Forest and the Isle of Wight, where greys have yet to reach. We also have them in Northumberland, and were lucky enough to have them in the park in which I worked. The question of how to protect them and encourage their growth was always a difficult one. Special feeders are available which allow the red to feed, but exclude the grey. However the presence of the feeder and the tenacity of the grey squirrel encourage it to try its luck anyway. Although it can’t feed, it can, and does leave the parapox virus behind on the feeder, so this method is a difficult one.

            Some advocate the killing of the greys, but from a personal point of view, such an attempt is pointless and futile. How would it be possible to separate the two species? What method of extermination should be used? Poison is no use as it will kill all manner of animals. Shooting them is one option; but if there is one skill squirrels possess it is speed and agility. A trained marksman may be able to hit the target, but the ridiculously short time available to make that crucial decision as to whether it is red or grey makes this seem impractical to me.

            We held an archery activity every year, where the children would come along and make bows from wood we had previously cut. The activity was carried out with the help of a local archery club, who would bring along targets and modern sports bows for the children to try. I have to admit, I did sneak off to have a try myself, and suffered from sore arms for days. I am wandering from the point. One of the members of the club said that he could happily provide the services of some of his club to shoot the grey squirrels in the park. I did manage to bite my lip, but the idea of a group of archers running around the woods shooting up at trees was as amusing as it was absurd. The head ranger was remarkably tactful in his refusal of the offer...The debate as to how to deal with the problem remains heavily disputed.

            The scientific name reveals the past commonality of the species Sciurus is simply Latitn for squirrel, while vulgaris means common.The name squirrel can be traced back to Greek skíourous meaning ‘shadow tail’. The red squirrel does indeed have a remarkably bushy tail, but does the shadow refer to this, or is it an allusion to the elusiveness of the little creature?

            The red squirrel has not always been considered the lovable creature it is today, and its ‘temper’, demonstrated by harsh chattering has long been known about.

                        He sees me, and at once, swift as a bird

                        Ascends the neigb’ring beech; there whisks his brush,

                        And perks his ears, and stamps and scolds aloud,

                        With all the prettiness of feigned alarm.

            (William Cowper, ‘The Task’)

            Red squirrels may have a temper, but they are remarkably vulnerable creatures and are known to literally die of fright. I was unfortunate enough, on my first patrol of the park, to find a dead red squirrel. There was not a mark on it and it showed no signs of the parapox virus. I contacted the head ranger on the radio and asked if he wanted the animal taken back to the centre, so that it could be sent for an autopsy. I never did find out what happened to that squirrel...On another occasion we discovered an ill squirrel and one of the council staff agreed to take it home to nurse it back to health. A suitable box was lined and the animal loaded into the car. Whatever the illness had been the squirrel recovered very quickly, because it broke out of the box and made a mad dash around the unfortunate man’s car, causing great consternation, but at least not leading to an accident.

Although now protected, red squirrels were heavily persecuted, partly for the perceived damage they did to trees and partly for purely fantastical notions. Edwar topsell claimed that ‘They are very harmful and will eat all manner of woollen garments.’ He continues:

Groups of men and boys would stone it from tree to tree

until they had forced it to one that stood alone.

There it was stoned until, in an effort to escape it

dropped to the ground, usually to succumb to a

shower of stones. Some years ago the squirrels that

added to the attraction of Richmond Park were shot by

the keepers to prevent them being killed in this way

by gangs of youths coming from London.

 

This would seem a rather extreme form of protection and perhaps throws doubt on my belief that they are simply too fast to hit? Fortunately the visitors to the park were interested in the red squirrel as the beautiful animal it is. We used to host ‘Squirrel Trails’ (at least there were no questionable rhymes in the name of this activity.) The chances of any of the visitors seeing a squirrel were, of course, very remote, so we worked around this. First of all we would ‘teach’ the children to walk silently in the woods. Put down the heel, then the outside of the foot, followed by the inside and finally the ball. They would then be taken to a spot, which we knew held an unoccupied squirrel drey to show them how they lived. We’d discuss what they eat and how they hid food for the harsh times of winter. The part of the activity that was the most fun for us (and the least work) was to get the children to hide a stash of nuts somewhere to see if they could find them again when the activity was over. This wasn’t frivolity or laziness, it was designed to demonstrate the difficulties faced by the little creatures. After the nuts were hidden, we’d wander down to the squirrel feeding area to show how we fed the squirrels, and not once during my time there did we see one on this activity. Perhaps it was because a crowd of over-excited children are enough to frighten a grown ranger, let alone a little squirrel. Finally it was time to find the nuts and success varied here as some children had hidden them next to a landmark, while others had planted them randomly. 

            The squirrel hunt used to be a part of rural Boxing Day or St Stephen’s day celebrations, though some areas preferred Good Friday. Men would take the day off work and head off into the forest with sticks to hunt squirrel and other small animals. This would be followed by a celebratory supper at the local inn and the squirrels would be taken home to be eaten! On the same day, in the parish of Easling in Kent, the same  pass-time was more an excuse for rural hooliganism:

“...the labourers and lower kinds of people, assembling together formed a

lawless rabble, and provided with guns, poles and other such weapons

spent the greatest part of the day in parading through the woods and grounds

, with loud shoutings. Under the pretence of demolishing the squirrels, some few

of which they killed, they destroyed numbers of hares, pheasants, partridges, and in

short whatever came their way, breaking down hedges and doing much other

mischief, and in the evenings betaking themselves to the alehouses, finished

their career there, as is usual with such sort of gentry.

                                                                                                (John Brand, 1900)

            The history of eating squirrel is probably as old as the presence of the creature. Some rural populations are believed still to eat grey squirrel, though few would be willing to eat it. The taste is said to be much like that of rabbit, but as I have never eaten rabbit, I can’t really be any more help than that.

Squirrels are also adept swimmers (though for some reason I find this odd) and they no doubt climb onto floating logs when the opportunity presents itself. This is very likely the source of the belief that they use their tails as sails. In more modern times the myth can most clearly be found in the work of Beatrix Potter, who illustrated The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin with a whole group of squirrels setting sail in this way.

Most parts of the country have their own rhyme about the squirrel. In the Cotswolds for example:

                        A squirrel can hop from Swell to Stow

                        Without resting his foot or wetting his toe.

In Warwickshire it was claimed that a squirrel could hop from one side of the county to the other, without ever coming down from the trees. It would take some ridiculously long leaps today to complete this, as Dutch Elm disease has taken its toll, and woodland management has become more intense. In Charnwood Forest, in Leicestershire a squirrel may hop for six miles, from tree to tree without touching the ground.

Seeing a squirrel negotiate its way from tree to tree and traversing branches that appear too thin to support the weight of anything is a truly amazing and spectacular sight, and one I feel honoured to have witnessed. You would rarely see them through the day, as brightly clad and boisterous visitors tramped through the park wondering why they weren’t seeing any of the wildlife we claimed to have living in the park, but early in the morning, at bird and squirrel feeding time, especially during early spring (when they are pairing for mating and there are few leaves on the trees to conceal them,) then you may just see one.

I’ll not mention any names (for fear of being sued, or having my ankles bitten) but we did have a television programme filmed in the park. It was to be on the red squirrel and was to be presented by a well-known and respected natural history presenter and personality. This personality seems to have the magical power of being able to find the right place at the right time to find and talk about all manner of creatures. Sadly it is a trick, in that it uses the only true way to see nature at work – patience. A film crew was installed near the squirrel feeders and spent three days there before a squirrel decided to show itself, the programme was very different and it appeared that the presenter had immediately found this elusive little creature.

Our working hours varied greatly. In the winter they could be as short as 9am till 5pm, while in the summer we were often there until 7pm or 8pm. One day in the early spring, I received a request to come in and lead a guided walk for a church group at 6 in the evening. I didn’t have a problem with doing it, but I had no brief as to what they were interested in seeing or hearing. When I met them, they were a wonderful, laid back group. When I heard what they were interested in my heart sank. You’ve probably guessed it – they were interested in red squirrels. Well I certainly couldn’t teach a group of adults the silent walk, so I showed them the squirrel drey and talked about squirrels. We discussed the threats they face and the possible solutions as we wandered down to the feeders. I was just about to give the standard talk, when a pair of squirrels emerged from a nearby tree and hopped across the trees in front of us. I think the visitors were almost as stunned as I was. The little creatures disappeared as quickly as they had come, but we had seen them and that was quite of an honour.

We continued our walk and chat, heading down to the river when from our bank a kingfisher shot out. The dying sun caught its colours beautifully and I almost fainted. You may not enter the world of the ranger for the money, but the richest person in the world couldn’t buy that!

Weird

I must drink some weird lager for looking into my glas to look like this

Little Peckers

I love watching birds - local ordinary birds. I'll not go half way across the country to see a rarity, but I love birds. As such I have fed them in my garden, going so far as to put different seeds out to appeal to different birds, and even fruit on a little makeshift table. One thing I have never managed to succeed with is the window feeder. I have tried different windows and different seeds, all to no avail. That is until now. Living in farm surroundings attracts masses of birds, so I thought I'd give it one more try and it works - I have a front row seat for our wonderful garden birds! One thing confused me in that some of the birds would land on a different ledge to the food and start pecking the window. Apparently it is because they see their reflections and don't recognise themselves, so they peck at their enemy imposter in an effort to drive it away!

Please consider your equipment

As we all know this country can have four seasons in one day. This can be a pain, but it also keeps things interesting. If you're wandering in the town it's not much of a problem, the worst that's likely to happen is you forget your umbrella and turn up for work looking like a snowman or drowned rat. If you're venturing into the great outdoors, things get a bit more serious.

It's a lovely sunny day and you feel fit and ready for anything. Getting to the summit of that hill seems like a great idea, and I can relate to that - I love getting out. The trouble is you set off with equipment designed for the lovely sunshine. If that weather comes down when you're up, a long way up you could be in trouble. It might just rain and the worst that happens that day is you get soaked. If the fog comes in though, you could be in trouble. I was once told a story of a small group who set of up a mountain. Fortunately they had the right gear with them when the fog came down. They decided to sit it out because vision was down to where you could barely see your hand. They did the right thing. When the fog lifted they found that the way they were heading was a drop of several hundred feet.

If you haven't go the gear you are risking things like hypothermia and the problem with that is you don't feel it happening. As your body goes hypothermic you'll stop shivering and actually feel warm. Then you'll get lethargic and want to sit down. This might be the last time you sit because your body will close down. Please wear or carry the right gear. Learn to use a compass and map because an electronic device like a gps might just go down. If you can get on a specialist outdoor evacuation first aid course because you never know.

I'm not meaning to preach but I've spent so long as a ranger and seen so many people head off into the hills in t-shirts and flip flops that I have to say something. But more than anything enjoy your outings in the knowledge that you know what you're doing!

Packaging a very short rant!

My dad wanted a 10 amp fuse for his electricity meter, so we went to a nearby, well known electrical retailer. They didn't have one in stock so said they would post it. It took nearly a week and was wrapped in a plastic bag in an a4 envelope. Now I understand they would want to keep it safe, but is that really necessary?

Corvid Superstition

I thought this article I wrote for Birdwatching Might be interesting?

Corvidae – Myths and Superstitions

            A more obvious, noisy, garrulous and imposing group of birds in Britain, you are unlikely to find, than that of the Corvidae family. They make themselves known wherever they are, and though highly intelligent, have a wonderfully arrogant disregard for humans and their activities. As is the case with parts of the natural world that are either rare, or in this case, common, they have developed a case-load of myth and superstition. In referring to ‘they’ the prime species for investigation are the carrion crow (Corvus corone corone), the magpie (Pica pica), the jackdaw (Corvus monedula), the raven (Corvus corax), and the rook (Corvus frugilegis).

            The appearance of any of these birds is often taken to be portentous of something both momentous and miserable, and the name (crow) has become associated with anything, raucous, brooding, sinister, or simply coarse. The plant Crow Garlic (Allium vineale), is cruder than the real thing and a ‘crow-bar’ is a rough and unsophisticated tool.

            The magpie immediately attracts one’s attention with its pompous manner, bright colouring and harsh call. It is, though, quite a pretty bird, on closer inspection. It’s behaviour, like the others of the family has attracted a large amount of negative attention. There are many poems or rhymes about the bird, and they vary from one part of the country to another. The most popular is probably:

One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a wedding, four for a boy,

Five for silver, six for gold,

Seven for a secret ne’er be told.

            The rhymes tend to be quite kind and positive to the bird, though most people know that bad luck is associated with seeing a lone magpie. Another verse goes:

I saw eight magpies in a tree,

Two for you and six for me.

One for sorrow, two for mirth,

Three for a wedding, four for a birth.

Five for England, six for France,

Seven for a fiddler, eight for a dance.

 

            As there have been rhymes associating the magpie with ill omen, so there have been counter spells. It was thought that raising one’s hat or bowing to the bird would lift bad luck. Others believed that making the sign of the cross or reciting a rhyme would counter the bad luck:

I cross the magpie

The magpie crosses me

Bad luck to the magpie

And good luck to me

            Other defences against the bird were to spit in its direction and say “Devil, Devil, I defy thee”. Spotting a magpie that was flying away from the sun was considered especially ill luck and one would be required to shout “Bad luck to the bird that goes widdershins”. Less negative and the oldest recorded superstition, is that the sound of a chattering magpie foretells the coming of a stranger (quite likely as they often tend to chatter at people!)

            In contrast with the rest of the country, in Sussex it was considered good luck to have a magpie perch on your roof. This is based on the idea that the wise bird would not be foolish enough to alight on any unsound structure. So, any tree holding the nest of a magpie would never fall. Members of the crow family are undoubtedly intelligent if ill-regarded.

            The Jackdaw (Corvus monedula) is the smallest of the crows, and is found almost everywhere. According to a Norwich saying: “When three daws are seen on St Peter’s vane together, then we are sure to have bad weather,” something which must happen regularly, as the birds are very gregarious. This idea also holds at Wells, Croscombe, near Wells and Romsey in Hants.

            Having this species in the vicinity of one’s house does not seem to have been a positive omen. In Lancashire, it is thought that the perching of a jackdaw on the sill of a room, in which someone is ill, does not bode well. Also in the north of England it is considered bad luck on the owners of a home whose chimney a jackdaw flies down. As they are great builders of nests in chimneys, this makes a lot of unlucky home owners. Indeed, you are unlucky if a jackdaw nests in your chimney because its prodigious building is a nightmare to remove, even for the experienced chimney sweep. With this common habit, there is a belief in the north of England that having a jackdaw in the chimney presages death in the house.

            The thievish urges of the bird (often ascribed to the magpie) are also quite notorious, and have been for some time. In 1544 William Turner wrote that “it is by the Latins strictly named monedula as if it were monetula from the moneta (money) which alone of birds, as Pliny says, it steals”. He continues to tell us how “Ovid” describes the bird in the following lines:

 

Was changed into a bird, which even now loves gold

Monedula the black of foot, in plumage black arrayed.

 

            For all its associations with theft and death, the flesh of the jackdaw “fresh and warm”, was claimed to dissolve tumours, if held against them, and was also thought beneficial against Scrofula, or “King’s Evil” (a type of tuberculosis affecting the lymph glands, causing swelling). Its popular name derives from the belief that the touch of the monarch would cure it.

            Despite being part of the Corvid family, the rook has a relatively good press. It was considered lucky to have rooks nest on one’s estate. It is understandable then, that land-owners encouraged the birds to nest on their land. A late vicar of Morwenstow went so far as to make the invitation of the bird a special part of prayer within the service. It is unlucky, however, if rooks abandon their nests on the land, and may even foretell of the death of the heir.

            If a death did occur it was often held that the rooks on the land must be told of it. There is a large rookery at Round Green, in west Yorkshire and the birds in residence have long been believed to be the reincarnations of the Elmhirst family, who own the land, and have done so for many centuries.

            It is foretelling the weather that rooks are most commonly credited with. Should the bird remain close to home or fly low it tells that wind and rain will follow, while if it flies high and far away good weather will surely follow. “Tumbling” in flight is a sign of rain, as is returning from feeding early. If they feed hurriedly and facing in one direction, then one is warned to look out for a storm and if they line up on fences then prepare for wind.

            Like the other birds of the family, the crow has long been considered a bird of ill omen, or a “bird of death”; particularly to the Romans. Its ‘cawing’, especially near the house of someone who is ill, portends evil. While in other parts of Europe, if the bird alights on the roof of a house in which a recently deceased person is ‘resting’, then that, it is claimed, tells us that their soul is damned.

            In Sussex to hear it cry three times is to hear repeated warnings of death, while in the North country, children greet the crow with the words:

Crow, crow, get out of my sight,

Or else I’ll eat thy liver and lights.

            Another rhyme, much like those attached to the magpie is:

One’s unlucky

Two’s lucky;

Three is health;

Four is wealth;

Five is sickness;

And six is death.

            Once again a mixed message is given as to the nature of the bird; it may presage good or bad events, depending on numbers.  

            Scottish herds-men did not have mixed views on the birds; they used to make offerings to the hooded crow, eagle and other birds, that they may spare their flocks and there is a Morayshire saying that:

The Guil, the Gordon and the Hoodie Craw,

Were the three worst things Murray ever saw.

            Some believe that the crow does have virtues in the hand of a person, bestowing riches and honour. It is also credited with being capable of undoing human deeds. It is said to have knowledge of a special stone that will make its egg fertile again if it has been hard boiled. Whether boiled crow’s eggs are quite so popular now is open to debate!

            The raven is largest of the crow family by far, and possibly the most imposing. Because of its size, colouring and arrival on the battlefield, to feed on corpses, it has always been associated with foreboding and death. Strangely, however, its associations are not all negative; as we have seen so far, much depends upon the circumstances.

It was widely believed that their presence before an important event, such as a hunting or fishing trip, bestowed good luck on the venture. In the Highlands of Scotland it was thought that to hear a raven croak was a very positive omen when deer-stalking. In seventeenth-century Ireland, the sight of a raven with white on its wing (very unlikely), flying on one’s right-hand side, whilst croaking at the same time, was most definitely a sign of good fortune. To see such an event in itself is an event of good fortune!

Having said that, the majority of superstitions associated with the raven are negative; in Christopher Marlowe’s Jew of Malta the bird is unequivocally sinister:

...the sad, presaging raven that tolls

The sick man’s passport in her hollow beak

And in the shadow of the silent night

Doth shake contagion from her sable wings

           

One of the best known legends regarding ravens is that if they dessert the Tower of London then the fall of the country will soon follow. This is reminiscent of the rook forsaking her nest and the death of the land-owner. The ravens at the Tower were all killed during World War II and new ones brought in. They are now tamed and pinioned to prevent their escape, which gives an insight into the power bird superstition has over us even today.

Its powers in the past are perhaps a little more gruesome and strange. According to many old ‘Bestiaries’ and ‘Naturall Histories’ raven’s eggs roasted with nail clippings of a murderer were a certain cure for ague (fever). The origin of this particular belief is as obscure and bizarre as to be impossible to trace. Pliny claimed that “if women great with child chance to eat a raven’s egg, they shall be delivered of their children at the mouth.”

There are many such legends in which various parts of the birds or their eggs or chicks can bestow magical powers. However the overwhelming majority of superstitions attached to the raven are similar to those of the other corvids; it is an ill omen or a sign of death. This belief probably stems from the family’s food source and their congregation at that food source. Mix this with dark plumage and sinister calls and here is a family ripe for the attachment of death. But all carnivores thrive on death, most kill their prey themselves, and yet they are not the subject of such superstition. The crow family is an efficient ‘cleaner’ of the dead and sometimes a messenger of good intent.

agazine may be of interest.. I'll come back to put in some illustrations.

Out and about

I love the outdoors and all the adventure it has to offer, along with the tranquillity and beauty. I don't get out nearly as much as I'd like because of problems related to my hip replacement - I have a big steel bar in my right leg. The pain when I woke up was indescribable and was terrible for a long time. Now I'm having trouble with my knees. I've piled on weight through not being able to exercise and that's making my knees worse. BUT when I manage to get on my quad and go for a spin down to the river every problem drifts away as the engine burbles beneath me. I don't go fast; I want this feeling to go on for a long time, as long as possible.

So for all my problems I'm lucky enough to have a quad and a place to ride it! I've also got a dirtbike, but I'm a bit wobbly to ride that, which is a shame. What I'm saying is get out there while you have the chance and don't just march or cycle as fast as you can take in the nature notice the clear air as you breathe and keep your eyes open for any wildlife you might come across. I keep intending to write a piece on how to spot where an animal has been and where it goes, but that's for another time. We live on a beautiful planet, enjoying it is the greatest thing we can do and the more we enjoy it the more we'll share it and look after itself. Have fun out there!