You never know when or where wildlife is going to turn up. The chance encounters and everyday surprises always remind me of the fact that nature doesn’t obey the rules. It does what it wants, when it wants, and always will. I’ve often found watching nature quite humbling. Living things, doing what they’ve done for thousands of years, despite everything humans have done to disturb them or make things difficult. Nature’s resolve is inspiring.
Nature surprises can also be quite comical. For example, my lazy Sunday began with me showering with a queen bee. My house is quite old, so instead of a typical extractor fan, I’ve got a hole in the window. In winter this adds a kind of Swedish plunge pool feel, and in summer I get visitors. The biggest bee I’ve ever seen wasn’t shy about it, cruising around like a blimp with a puncture. Fearing only for the bee’s safety, I decided to exit the bathtub shower combo with a sideways jump, my head narrowly missing the curtain rail. Pint glass and a letter from this morning’s post in hand, I rescued the bee and got back in the shower.
Bumblebee roommate wanted: must like communal showering (Photo: Richard Ash, Flickr creative commons)
Later on, I had lunch in the garden and admired the honeysuckle. My garden is tiny, so the honeysuckle creates an imposing multi-sensory experience. The smell is just incredible, as are the myriad insects that are attracted to it. The smell carries through to my loo, which is basically outside. Like the shower, the loo has regular visitors too. In the early afternoon, seated, I was subject to a private viewing of a spider zoo’s new intake. At eye level, the cellar spiders hang. Needle thin whirling dervishes, keeping most of the chunky spiders under control by eating them. In the corner behind the toilet the resident house spider hunkers, ready to scuttle around as soon as you stop checking it’s still where it was when you sat down. Just behind the toilet roll was a woodlouse spider – a new one for the loo. A cloud of voyeur zebra spiders, bungee cording from the ceiling to get a better view (the little sickos), rounded off the whole Wild West spider shoot-out experience.
Errr, do you mind if I watch? (Photo: Paul Green, Flickr creative commons)
Dinner was largely uneventful. Sadly, Johnson passed away last year. Named after Michael Johnson the 200 m and 400 m runner, Johnson used to run laps of the living room every evening in true ground beetle hunting style. Poor Johnson, ripped out and away into a skip during the fitting of the new carpet, a beetle in his prime. Tearing up, the only option was to drown my sorrows at the local with some pals.
A small courtyard garden at the front of the pub provides a stellar view of some conscientiously managed grassland to accompany your pint. As the amber fluid of sorrows’ forgotten cascaded down my throat, a loaf of Warburton’s white bread floated a few metres above the ground in the field yonder. Just after 8pm, in the glistening sunset of a lazy Sunday, we were treated to the best views of a barn owl hunting I’ve ever had while drinking a pint. It was a big surprise, as I’ve never seen or heard one in the area before. It was such a beautiful end to the day.
I prefer granary (Photo: Tony Smith, Flickr creative commons)
But the night had just begun. A few pints later, the amble home began. Being close to a river means the night is alive with moths and bats, but that was no surprise. Balled up in the middle of the road, just a few paces from home, was a spiny friend. Having seen far too many squished hedgehogs this year already (one, it’s a hog-not-life), we were compelled to get him to safety. Jumpers off to act as hedgehog handling mittens, he was picked up and carefully carried to the back of the graveyard and safety.
I feel this Sunday experience proves you don’t have to go far to experience wildlife, it’s just on your doorstep. The cracks in the pavement, the tree on the street, the spider in your toilet… What’s the best or most exciting wildlife experience you’ve had in your home? Tell us by emailing natureshome@rspb.org.uk
Jack