Strange things

 

 

There was nothing there, nothing to count. The Big Butterfly count came and went very quickly for me because our butterfly bushes are still bare. The flowers should be covered with insects but today there is nothing. According to Butterfly Conservation Group such low numbers were last seen in 2010. I thought that more would be here by now, but we are no better off than a week ago.

“It’s a combination of factors...” says the Butterfly Conservation.

The reasons are complex and there is nothing we can do except do all the right things then wait and hope. Which I suppose is also true of a lot of things that have happened this last week.

The big red balloon I bought last week has continued its life of fun. At my book stall I thought it would be a good attraction and had it filled with helium A big red heart of a balloon would surely get me noticed.

The trouble was it was very windy and the big balloon got in the way of customers and I had to keep an eye out in case it broke loose. The next day I took it to a local café where it bobbed about near the till. A big red heart shaped helium balloon is quite expensive, so I was pleased that it had another life entertaining customers.

But that was not the end. Yesterday I went back to the café and the balloon had gone. The waiter told me that a little girl had been admiring it, so they gave it to her and off she went home down the street with the balloon on a string dancing along.

The homes of many of our field creatures has been disturbed. We have had the grass cut for hay in Oak Meadow and a field called Goose Bottom. The young tractor driver said that he had never seen so many little mammals. No wonder we often have the kestrel sitting on the wires above, waiting for a catch. As if on cue he flew over-head pursued by swallows and house martins who do not like birds of prey.

Then continuing to stare into the sky I could not believe what I was seeing, a strange-shaped creature fluttering around and around over our vegetable patch.

“Look, it’s a bat, in broad daylight.” I shouted. What was a bat doing out in the day, it was surely putting itself at risk of predators? Round and round it went fluttering ever faster, it stayed out for about ten minutes then disappeared. This bat perhaps needed to top up with daytime insects as there are not enough at night.

(Taken from my column in the Shropshire Star)

Here is a bat flying in the daylight above our garden