Nature Journal: Week Ten
June 21st 2020
Ventured out for the first time since lockdown began. Worried about stories of overcrowding and littering, we headed to a small, relatively hidden nature reserve a short drive away. The woods here are dark and ancient and natural processes are encouraged; decaying timber, fungi, mosses and nooks and crannies to explore make for a magical atmosphere. We look in holes in trees and clamber down steep banks to barely running streams, find a bat roost and a grassy glade where raindrops from fast moving showers have settled liked jewels on the leaves of wood sorrel.
24th June 2020
This evening whilst sitting outside the house in the still warm summer air, the silence was broken by screeching and wailing coming from the woods. Perhaps an owl, or foxes fighting? The clamour continued and I recognised the sound as one of an animal in pain, struggling to stay alive. The sound is chilling but not unfamiliar; during our time living in the woods we have witnessed many displays of competition between predator and prey and know better than to try and intervene. Death and life are as one in the woods. Although I don’t want to interfere, curiosity gets the better of me and I creep quietly and slowly towards the ruckus. As I get closer, the shrieking loses some of its fury, becomes a whimper, the fight for life is fading within the creature. A female roe deer barks its alarm call and bounds off into bracken. In the golden light a fox runs a short distance and stops to look at me. It pauses before reluctantly fleeing. I can guess what has happened and pause too, not sure whether I want to complete my encounter. I can see a dark shape on the woodland floor, gently twitching. At first it looks like a mink but as I get closer I see that it’s a fawn, not more than a few weeks old, legs twisted, still breathing but injured by the fox to the point of near death. I consider touching the fawn, the urge to help is strong, but I resist. Flies hover around the fawn’s eyes. The doe is still barking nearby, I know that if the fawn has any chance it is with her. I also know that if touch the fawn it may be rejected by the mother and that if I move the deer or intervene I may also deprive the fox of a meal. Neither one of these animals is more deserving of life than the other. My gut feeling is always to trust in nature, so I don’t stay long and leave quietly to let the scene play out.
The following morning, I go back to where I found the fawn. It is not there, which I am a little surprised by. The doe appears and barks at me again before bouncing away out of view. Is it possible the fawn survived, and the doe has hidden the fawn in the bracken? I look closer at the site of the attack and find a single bone covered in flesh and a tuft of dark fur, there are signs that suggest something has been dragged across the dry mud, so I conclude that the fox got its meal after all. I feel sad for the fawn and its mother, yet I am also happy for the fox. No single thing in nature exists independently of the whole and although the predator / prey relationship is one of violence and suffering, it is also one of collaboration. Life cannot flourish in nature without death. I am grateful for this encounter, and other similar ones, that highlight the fragility of life and the interconnectedness of all living things.
26th June 2020
Playing by the stream today with Benji. The water is clear and shallow. We find a cluster of young Dryad’s saddle fungus emerging from an ash tree; the flesh is so smooth they look almost artificial, their undeveloped forms remind me of pipes or musical instruments.
June 28th 2020
We run in the long grass in the warm evening sun, flushing out butterflies and micro moths as we tread. Each stride triggers small explosions of meadow browns, skippers and marbled whites flitting and fluttering in chaotic patterns of flight. I notice how many different species of grass there are in this small patch and appreciate their delicate beauty and intricate forms. I wonder at why I can see beauty in nature and others only see something that needs to be controlled, cut and clipped. What would it take to change this mindset?