Hmmm. I notice that it is almost exactly a year since I posted on here, which means that it is also a year since I last went out looking for badgers. I really need to get out more.
In fact, the circumstances are similar in many ways. Last year, I took advantage of Mrs BWM and Scarlett taking a trip to Ireland. This year they are both on a trip to Disneyland Paris. While they are meeting the mouse, my time is my own for a few days. Which has meant catching up with chores in the house and garden.
But this evening, like Mole in Wind in the Willows, I said “Hang spring-cleaning!”, dug out my badger watching clothes and headed off to the wood.
Spring is definitely coming. The first leaves are out in the hedgerows, the lambs are in the fields, the primroses are blooming in the wood. It was even sunny, although with a chill wind. The wood hadn’t changed much in a year, a few more of the dead ash trees blown down, and there were good signs of badgers at the main sett. There were fresh spoil heaps at both the east and west ends, and one of the fallen trees was covered in claw marks where the badgers have obviously used it as a ‘play tree’. Badgers do seem to love climbing on and over trees – perhaps they have some of the instincts of their pine marten cousins.
I climbed my usual tree (perhaps tree climbing is a universal mammal urge) and settled down to wait. I’ve said it before, but it is rare to get time to just sit and think these days. At 6.30 there was a movement in the undergrowth – not a badger, but a fox. Foxes aren’t very common around here, certainly not so common as they were when I lived in London, and as long as they aren’t after my chickens I like to see them. A few years ago a fox reared a litter of cubs in an unused part of the sett, but this fox (a dog fox) seemed to be just passing through.
After another half hour, more sounds of stealthy movement. This time it was a herd of fallow deer. We have a few of these deer in the area – I used to see their tracks regularly, but again it isn’t common to see them. There were six of them, three young and three older, and a mix of males and females judging by the antlers (or rather the antler buds). I wonder if they were a family group, as they were all quite dark coloured. Fallow deer can be any colour from dark brown through light brown with spots to white all over. These were all the same dark colour. They slowly grazed their way past, a couple of the males occasionally playing at butting antlers, despite not having any.
And then, at 7.50, a badger emerged at the west end of the sett and sat down for a good scratch before wandering off. By now it was getting too dark for photos (as well as a bit chilly). I waited for another 20 minutes to see if any more came out, but none did. Judging by the signs the east end of the sett is well occupied, so presumably they came out after I had left.
A pleasant evening all round. I really shouldn’t wait another year before doing it again…
OK, I haven’t done much for a while, I admit. Mrs BWM has been working at the weekends (including a practice event for the Olympics – she’s a volunteer announcer and they were having a dry run) so I’ve been on parenting duty and confined to home except for the odd short walk. I remember the good old days when Scarlett was little and she’d happily be carried for hours. Not any more.
But this is still my diary, so I have a few things to note. Firstly, I came across another dead badger on the main road. I saw it this morning on my way to the shops, in almost exactly the same place as the road casualty of July 23rd. On that occasion the dead badger vanished, causing me some confusion. I looked closely at this one, to make sure that I wasn’t imagining it. Good thing too, as by the time I came back an hour or so later, the badger had disappeared. There must be a sett around here somewhere; and I can only imagine that, being a main road, the bodies get picked up pretty quickly. I wonder how many road casualties occur that I don’t notice, even in our village?
While we’re on this morbid subject, we’ve had some trouble from a fox attacking chickens lately. There are at least a couple of foxes locally – I see their tracks regularly – but not nearly so many as we had in London. This is pheasant country, and there are rearing pens around the village. The keepers are not fond of foxes. Probably not fond of any other carnivores either, but certainly not foxes. Incidentally, a couple of years ago a fox got into the penguin enclosure at the nearby safari park and wreaked terrible havoc among the young penguins. Foxes were even less popular around here after that, I can tell you.
Anyway, our neighbour lost one chicken last week, killed in daylight. A couple of days later, our own Mabel went the same way, a patch of feathers telling the story. Poor Henrietta had a narrow squeak but escaped with cuts and bruises, only to fall victim on Friday. So it’s RIP Mabel and Henrietta. They’d had a good life – four and a half years – with no trouble. They have a fox-proof house in which they sleep, but this is the first time we’ve had a fox in the daytime, hence their run is not fully protected (which takes either a 6-foot tall dug-in fence, or an electric one).
On the whole, I like foxes. They are attractive, interesting to watch and great survivors. They do what they do, not out of spite or malice, but to eat and live. But I love them a little less after this.
I made a quick visit to the wood this evening, after work. A pleasant, dry evening, with a cuckoo calling from the fields and a light breeze stirring the leaves.
On a hunch I sat out at the east end of the sett. This is the less visible side of the sett, which is on a low rise in the ground so it is impossible to see right across it from this end, while the jungle of nettles and elder bushes obscures the centre of the sett. The badgers could hardly have chosen a more private spot if they tried. Nevertheless, there are a couple of active holes that are visible on the edge of the hill, plus a well-used ‘play area’, where the badgers have worn the ground smooth and bare of leaf litter. I particular, they seem to like to run round and round one of the trees, judging from the polished soil.
At 8.35 an adult badger emerged from one of the holes and trotted off into the nettles in the centre of the sett. It didn’t reappear, nor did any others. After half an hour I called it a day and crept slowly off. I didn’t see any cubs but at least I saw a badger – it’s been a while. As a consolation I sat at the bottom of the pasture field and watched a fox wandering backwards and forwards hunting insects. It was a particularly mangy individual, which is unusual around here. I wonder if it is one of the cubs I watched last year?
Altogether a slightly frustrating evening, but enjoyable nonetheless. There is something strangely pleasant about sitting quietly in a wood or in a field, even if you don’t see much. I’ll go back to my usual spot at the west end of the sett as soon as I can and see if I can get a better view of things.
Last year I had the opportunity to visit Toronto, in Canada, on a fleeting business trip. I must say, it’s a very nice city and the people were wonderful. But one thing puzzled me. The whole downtown area was connected by miles of subways. It was possible to walk from one side of the city to other, to shop, to eat, to sit and drink coffee – all underground. It’s a strange subterranean world. When I commented on this architectural oddity to a local resident she just gave me a knowing look. “When you have six feet of snow for six months of the year, why would you want to walk outside?”
This seems to me to be a very sensible way of dealing with a harsh climate. Unfortunately in Britain we have neither the common sense nor the fortitude of the people of Toronto. The South East of England received 10-20cm of snow this week and, predictably, everything ground to a halt. I don’t know whether all the stressed-out workers are looking for any excuse to take a day off or whether we’ve lost any sort of self-reliance, but either way it’s a pretty poor show.
And me? I love snow. I like nothing better than getting out and exploring after a decent fall of snow, and since I became interested in tracking I like it even more. Tracks in the snow offer a real window into what’s been happening, what animals have been out and what they have been doing. Naturalists have used all sorts of techniques to record the movements of wild animals, from radio transmitters to long pieces of string. A couple of inches of snow will do the same job in a much more interesting way.
On Saturday I wrapped Scarlett in her warmest clothes and headed out. I couldn’t take her too far, but we had a nice walk around the fields. Long enough for me to show her the common tracks in the area.
Here’s the most common – rabbit tracks. Every now and then I come across someone who says they’ve found strange and enormous paw prints, but what they’ve seen is not the marks of giant toes but the tracks of all four feet of a rabbit.
Rabbit tracks
Which way was the rabbit travelling? That’s right – left to right.
There seemed to be a lot of fox tracks around. We live in an area where there is a lot of rearing (and shooting) of game birds, so foxes are not exactly popular. We used to see far more of them when we lived in London.
Fox tracks are small, neat and diamond-shaped, with four toes and a heel pad. Notice how the small heel pad forms a straight line at the back of the track, almost like a straight bar.
Fox track
It can be easy to confuse fox tracks with those of dogs. Most dog tracks are broader than fox’s, with the toes more widely-spread. The heel pad is usually larger too.
Dog track - note the wider shape and the spread of the toes
However, dogs come in all shapes and sizes. Some dogs are bigger than others. The tracks of small, terrier-like dogs can look very similar in shape to fox tracks. The way to tell them apart is the spacing between the front and rear toes. Look at the fox track again. The front toes are forward of a line drawn across the ends of the rear toes. In a dog, the front toes overlap with this line.
Fox track - front toes forward of rear ones
Another quick way of telling fox and dog tracks apart is to look at the trail – the series of tracks. Fox trails always seem to be very purposeful. Foxes seem to walk in a straight line, one track in front of another. The tracks have a direct register, in other words the fox puts its hind feet into the tracks of its front feet. To the novice, it can look as if the fox is walking on its hind feet like a human.
Dog tracks, on the other hand, don’t quite register, so you’ll get front and rear tracks close to each other but not quite overlapping. Dogs don’t seem to have the same sense of purpose as foxes – dog tracks will often meander around as the dog wanders this way and that. With a bit of practice you can tell dog tracks from fox tracks without having to look closely at the individual prints.
The temperature hasn’t risen much above freezing all weekend, so hopefully the snow will last for a while yet. That suits me fine. Tracking in snow is absolutely fascinating. Put it this way, if I lived in Toronto I’d happily venture above ground to spend months tracking the local wildlife.
You may recall that I dealt with a roadkill badger a couple of weeks ago. I was concerned that the badger had been killed next to a field that forms part of my usual Sunday morning tracking/ birdwatching walk, and I hoped that the dead badger wasn’t the one that I had become accustomed to tracking.
Well, I went for my usual Sunday walk this morning, and I’m pleased to say that the badger is alive and well and still making tracks.
Tracking really is a fascinating activity. I spent an hour totally absorbed by the animal tracks in a hundred yards of footpath up one single field. Over the last 24 hours a badger, a fox, several Chinese Water Deer and a small herd of fallow deer had all walked up this path. It was a tracker’s heaven!
We’ve had a combination of rain showers and sunshine recently, so the normally hard-packed clay in this field is soft in places, but still firm in others. Many of the tracks showed up only as smudges in the fine silt on top of the clay. In a strange way it is more satisfying to find and follow these faint images.
Here’s another set of badger tracks. Note the claws on the front paw on the right.
Here’s where the fox and badger walked side by side (actually, the fox was there first – on the next set of prints I found that the badger’s track overlay the fox’s)
The badger’s front paw print is on the top left, its rear paw on the bottom left and the fox on the right.
Who would have thought that a short stretch of path could prove so interesting – and so informative. If you’ve never tried tracking then give it a go next time you’re out and about. It really does add an extra dimension to your knowledge of the wildlife in your area. And it’s great fun too!
I think it’s time I got back to some serious badgerology.
I was up at the wood on Saturday, and an interesting evening it was too. Firstly, the badgers have started feeding on the wheat in the wheat field. This seems to become a regular food source as soon as it ripens. The badgers seem to have a simple way of getting at the wheat – they trample down the stalks and then pull off the grain. You can see the patches where they have been feeding.
Badger feeding signs in wheat
These feeding signs are accompanied by fresh dung, full of wheat. In this case, there is quite an impressive amount.
Badger dung in wheat
The badgers use this field all year (I see their tracks), but the latrines only appear when they are feeding on the wheat. Now, it could be that wheat has an effect on their digestion that makes latrines necessary, but my guess is that it is probably territorial. The wheat fields are a major food resource, so it makes sense that each badger clan will try and claim it as their territory, marking it out with latrine sites. When there is no food, there is no need to mark it, hence the latrines only occur when the wheat is ripe. I must get round to some more of the latrine sites to see which ones contain wheat. That would be interesting, to find out which badgers have been feeding here.
When I arrived, the local buzzard was flying from tree to tree, calling all the time. I could see it through binoculars, perched high up on a branch. I don’t know why buzzards call like this. It is too late for mating, so perhaps it is a territorial display.
I tried to record the sound using the video function on my camera. You can’t actually see the buzzard on the video, but turn the volume up and you should hear its cry. It kept this noise up for over an hour!
At 8.30 a badger emerged briefly from the western sett entrance and then almost immediately went back underground. Ten minutes later the cub did the same. They seemed nervous. It sounds strange, but badgers seem to be afraid of buzzards. A buzzard would have no chance of carrying off even a half-grown badger, yet I’ve seen an entire family of badgers dive for cover when one passed overhead.
Five minutes later a badger came out and trotted off to the west, followed five minutes later by another, and then another and another, all at five minute intervals. None of them stayed near the sett entrance. This means that there were at least four badgers in this half of the sett.
Another ten minutes passed and badgers five and six emerged from the same hole. As they did so, the badgers at the east end of the sett came out into a clearing, foraging, playing and, amusingly, trying to climb trees. I counted five badgers in the group, which, plus the two at the west, gave a total of seven badgers visible at the same time.
One noteworthy behaviour was a fight that developed between two adult badgers. Badgers will usually engage in some rough and tumble play or play-fighting, but this was more serious. It ended with one badger running off, hotly pursued by the other. I could hear their noises at least a hundred yards off; for them to go this far meant it was serious. Perhaps this was an issue about dominance being acted out.
The other interesting event of the night was a fox that trotted past. This must one of the cubs from earlier in the year. I tried Pablo’s trick of calling in a fox by making a high-pitched squeaking noise (see here for a very impressive video), and blow me, it worked! The fox changed direction and came trotting up to the base of my tree!
It obviously felt that something wasn’t right, but I was sitting very still and was well camouflaged. So the fox did a very cunning thing – it walked round my tree in a big circle.
I’ve read about this behaviour but never seen it before. It happens when an animal such as a fox is not sure about you, so they circle round to get downwind so they can check you out. Clever little fox! Since I was in a tree and there was virtually no wind I must have passed the test, for the fox carried on wandering about. It was too dark for pictures, but I watched through the binoculars. The fox was young – its coat sleek and perfect, quite unlike the scruffy urban foxes we got in London. I know that foxes aren’t everyone’s friend, and I know the damage they can do, but they’re still beautiful creatures when you see them in their element.
Yesterday was another beautiful warm evening. 7.45pm found me sitting contentedly up a tree at the main sett, drinking tea and making running repairs to my camouflage gloves with a needle and thread. A more blissful domestic scene could not be imagined.
I’d taken a detour around the wood earlier in the evening to check out the badger day nests I found last month. I’m curious to see whether the badgers are using them in this hot weather, particularly since the last time I was at the sett there were only two badgers to be seen. Unfortunately the nests were all unoccupied and showed no signs of recent use, so there is another theory that will have to wait for another day to be proved.
At 8.35 a badger came trotting up from the inaccessible east end of the sett and disappeared into a hole at the west end. Two more followed, and then another two. In total, five badgers had come from the other part of the sett and gone straight back underground.
I waited for the badgers to re-appear, but nothing happened. I would have thought they would be eager to start foraging, but they stayed underground. Very odd.
As I was waiting another muntjac deer wandered onto the scene. I’ve waited ages to get a good view of a muntjac, and now it’s happened twice in consecutive trips. I’m getting a bit blasé now – the muntjac will have to start performing tricks if they want me to film them in the future!
After a little while I heard badger noises from the east end of the sett, whickering and the short, high-pitched bark that badgers make when play fighting has got out of hand. Once again, this area is now an impenetrable mass of vegetation – elder, nettles and bracken. The sounds were confirmed when three badgers came into view at the very far east side of the sett and started foraging through the wood. These three plus the five I’d seen at the west end makes at least eight badgers, which is good. I was worried because I’d only seen two last time.
A few minutes later a fox trotted past with a baby rabbit in its mouth, unfortunately too far away to photograph in the fading light. I think it was the vixen that had the cubs here, but it could conceivably be one of the cubs themselves. They’ve certainly grown up and left home now. The fox loped off to the east end of the sett. The fact that it was taking food there implies it has a den in the area.
The five badgers at the west end of the sett remained underground until 9.30 when I had decided to pack up and was in the process of climbing down the tree, at which point they emerged and gave me a hard stare. Absolutely typical!
It was an interesting night for the variety of wildlife that was about, but it was also interesting because it showed a pattern. Last year, the badgers started off in the west end of the sett and then moved to the east as the summer progressed. This year they’ve done the same, although at least some badgers are using the west end for at least some of the time.
There is obviously something going on here. Something makes the badgers move between parts of the sett. If only I could recognise individual badgers I’d be in a better position to understand this, but despite staring at film and pictures they still look pretty much alike to me. In the meantime I’ll keep making notes of what I see and hope it all makes more sense in the future.
Things have been busier than usual at work and around the house lately, hence I’m late in writing up my notes. It’s been a gloriously hot bank holiday weekend, and I’ve been taking the opportunity to thrash the garden into shape. Where there was a jungle there are now neat rows of vegetables and trimmed hedges – what a difference a few days can make.
And by the way, this blog is now a year old, so happy birthday to me! The main reason for writing it is to keep a diary so that I can check back on things and compare my experiences over the years. It’s working already. I can see from my records that this time last year was cold and wintry, so I’m starting to build up an archive of what has happened. Besides, keeping a diary online is much more fun than doing it on paper.
So without further ado, here’s the compressed diary entries for the weekend.
Saturday 23rd May
Being busy in the garden, I only had time for a quick trip up to the woods. I set myself up at the western side of the sett, mostly because it is clearer here and the view is better.
At 8.00pm exactly a badger left the eastern side of the sett and ambled over the western entrances. Five minutes later it wandered back again. A social visit, I presume. The eastern end of the sett is where I’ve seen the only cub of the season so far, so I’ve been keeping an eye on it to try and see some more.
The vixen and the fox cubs came out at 8.20. There are five of them. They suckled their mother for a few minutes before she suddenly ran off across the wood, five little cubs in tow. For a moment there were fox cubs everywhere, but they soon sorted themselves out. Perhaps she is starting to teach them to hunt, or just encouraging them to be more independent.
I could hear badgers at the eastern end of the sett at 8.35, but the undergrowth hid them from me. I still want to find out if there are any more cubs, so it looks like a trip to this end of the sett is called for.
Sunday 24th May
The eastern end of the sett presents a challenge, as there are no easily climbable trees nearby so you have to sit on the ground. It is also on a slight rise, so to get any sort of view you need to be pretty close. It was time for some extreme stealth badger watching!
Getting close to truly wild badgers is difficult because they are very nervous. I did everything I could to prepare. I brought my full camouflage outfit – my new camo shirt, gloves and two face veils. I even made sure that the shoes I wore had dark soles! The face veils are very important, as your face really does stand out. In particular it is useful to cover your eyes. Animals (and birds) seem to have an uncanny knack of knowing when you’re looking at them, and I think a lot of this comes from seeing your eyes. The ability to recognise eyes is built into almost all animals – a human baby will smile at two dots on a piece of paper if they are the same size as its mother’s eyes. One company in the US even makes camouflage sunglasses; these may seem like a gimmick but I’m convinced they are useful because they disguise your most noticeable feature.
Here’s what I look like in full camo gear – needless to say I don’t pop into the pub dressed like this.
The BWM in full camouflage
All my badger watching clothes are washed in hot water without soap, and to make sure I get rid of any possible washing powder scent I soak them in the rainwater butt overnight and then let them dry outside. I myself took a shower in hot water without soap, but I’m afraid I didn’t jump in the rainwater afterwards. I draw the line at some things. Never mind, I was as scent-free as I could possibly make myself.
All this camouflage may seem excessive, but I think it does help. It certainly gives me confidence to get close to the badgers.
Taking note of the wind direction I crept slowly up to the sett and sat with my back to a tree to hide my silhouette. I sat absolutely still, like a statue or a piece of wood. The local mosquitoes came out in force and bit my hands and ankles (the only vulnerable places) but I kept still.
At 8.00pm or so two badgers emerged – an adult and a cub. I was sitting in full view no more than 12 feet or so away. What a fantastic sight! I felt I could almost reach over and touch them. No chance of any pictures, of course. If I’d have moved even an inch they would have been scared off.
They sat and groomed and scratched for ten minutes or so as I sat and watched, hardly daring to breathe. When they ambled off I crept away as quietly as I could.
It was a great experience. Apart from the sheer boyish pleasure of dressing up and creeping around in a wood I had one of the best views of the badgers ever.
Still only the one cub though. Could it be that there is only one this year?
Monday 25th May
Back again at the western end of the sett. Two badgers came over from the eastern side at 8.25pm, and were joined by others from the western entrances. At 8.35 the mother and cub came over from the eastern sett. This was the first time I’ve seen the cub joining the adults over here.
The badgers were all very busy. At least three of them were engaged in some energetic digging in two separate entrances. Interestingly, one of these was a badger from the eastern side. It seems that it was living in a separate part of the sett yet it was still helping to excavate over here. Very community-spirited! You could tell the badgers that had been digging because they were a muddy red colour from the soil rather than the usual grey and black.
Other than that it was a typical relaxed badger evening. All the badgers sat around grooming contentedly, and the air was filled with scratching noises. Occasionally one badger would musk another, or help out with some mutual grooming. In short, it was a happy scene of a badger clan at ease.
Here’s a short video to give you a flavour of the evening:
And what about the cubs? Well, there was only the one. It played alongside the adults, but it was very much an only child. I’m coming to the conclusion that there is only this one cub this year. Is this because of the hard weather we had at the start of the year? Is it because we had a lot of cubs last year? Let’s see if an answer presents itself. In the meantime, it’s good to be out in the woods on a warm evening in the company of badgers.
I still haven’t managed to get a good look at any badger cubs this year, so once again I climbed the hill to the woods.
The badgers had obviously been busy around the western part of the sett, so I set myself up there and waited. The wait was made easier by a great-spotted woodpecker that worked its way up the trees in the area. I’ve been hearing woodpeckers for weeks, but this is the first time I’ve managed to see one.
At 8.14pm a pair of badgers came out of one of the eastern entrances, followed quickly by a third. Frustratingly, this part of the sett is hidden in undergrowth, so although I could get glimpses of black and white faces, I couldn’t tell if any of them were cubs.
For the next half hour or so I sat and listened to the badgers happily playing and whickering just out of sight. Then my attention was diverted elsewhere.
Remember the fox I mentioned a few posts ago that was living in one outlying
The fox cubs (damn that autofocus!)
hole of the sett? Well, it seems that ‘he’ is a ‘she’, because at 8.40 two adorable fox cubs appeared outside the hole. These little chaps were very cute indeed! Difficult to photograph, but still very cute. Sod the badgers, I thought. If they’re going to play hard to get then I’ll watch the foxes instead.
As if in answer, two badgers ambled over to the western sett entrance and in quick succession another six emerged from the hole. In no time there were eight badgers grooming and playing in front of me.
A few things stand out from the evening. Firstly, there were no cubs. All the badgers seemed adult size with adult behaviours, so unless this year’s cubs are very quick to mature then these are all last years. The main reason for keeping this diary is so that I can compare notes, and looking at the pictures from the end of May last year there is no way the cubs would be so grown up. The cubs (I’ve only seen one) must still be out of sight.
The badgers were in a playful mood – running, play-fighting and climbing trees. There is a tree at the sett that grows at an angle of 45 degrees, and I’ve seen the badgers climb up it a few times. The end of the tree is about 12 feet off the ground yet they don’t seem bothered. I walked up it once and it scared the hell out of me.
There was a lot of social behaviour going on. I noticed that as each new badger emerged from the sett it would musk (scent mark) the others, which implies that musking is a group behaviour and not just done by dominant individuals. I took some video, but the evening was a little too dark for it. Nevertheless, I’ve uploaded some because there’s a good example of musking going on. Watch how the badger coming in from the right lifts his tail when he rubs against the others. He (or she) is marking them with scent from the sub-caudal gland.
Talking of dominant individuals, I was treated to another fine display of badger sex. I really should stop watching things like this, but since the badgers in question were surrounded by six of their fellows and didn’t seem embarrassed, then neither should I be. The mating was interesting, because it was the first time I’ve ever been sure of the gender of individual badgers. It also implied that the badgers doing the mating were dominant in the clan, so these are obviously badgers of importance to watch out for in the future. I tried to see any distinguishing features so I could recognise them again, but they looked the same as any other badgers, dammit!
Ernest Neal distinguishes between short- and long-duration mating in badgers, where the long variety is a more serious attempt to breed. My pair were at it for 10 minutes, which seemed quite long, although Neal records instances of up to 90 minutes. Badger mating seems to involve a certain roughness, with the male biting the neck of the female to stop her running away, and she in turn trying to bite him when he gets too agressive.
Another thing of note was that a number of badgers rolled on the ground in exactly the same spot. This seemed like more than just coincidence. Do badgers scent-mark the soil, and then other badgers pick it up? Another thing to look out for in the future.
After an hour or so the badgers wandered off to begin the night’s foraging. By 9.45pm the sett was quiet again and I gracelessly climbed down from my tree. It was a fine evening, and the playfulness and the complexity of the social behaviour reminded my why I enjoy watching these remarkable creatures.
Tales from the Wood - The Diary of a Badger Watching Man 