Showing posts with label deer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label deer. Show all posts

Tuesday, 5 January 2016

Out with the old (patch) and in with the new!


It all happened rather fast after an extremely long process; my parents and I are now living in Midhurst. We moved from our Southwater house exactly a week before Christmas (!) and into the place my mum and step-dad bought together in the beautiful historic town of Midhurst, found smack-bang in the middle of the South Downs National Park.

Given the option, I don't think I would have chosen to move away from where we were before. I was so spoilt by the rural location of our cottage, being fully immersed in nature and not being able to look out of the window without seeing some form of wildlife. I talked about this in my guest post for A Focus On Nature but, in a nutshell, living in Southwater and immersing myself in the natural world were the reasons I decided to pursue conservation as a career. I have had some amazing experiences in that quiet corner of West Sussex.

Our old back garden bordered a huge expanse of woodland and so we had all sorts of creatures visiting the feeders. I discovered the undeniable quirky character of the nuthatch, now my favourite garden bird, and was treated to frequent close sightings of great-spotted woodpeckers, including a male and female pair feeding their two juveniles on the peanuts. We regularly had goldcrests hopping about in the bushes, the occasional visit from goldfinches, long-tailed tits and bullfinches, the odd treecreeper clinging to the oak tree and even a couple of redwing stopped by briefly on their way through. I think the most exciting sighting I had was actually one of the last before we moved, seen from the kitchen window, and that was a firecrest!


In the three years we lived there, we had five different species of bird nesting in the garden, though not all with successful broods. The first year the nestbox went up, the blue tits moved in straight away and their chicks fledged with success, spending the next couple of weeks using our feeding station to learn how to feed. At the same time, a few metres above the box, a pair of nuthatches spent weeks lining a hole in the oak trunk with mud until it was only big enough for the parents to fit through and then flew back and forth with food for their chicks. I didn't see them fledge so can only hope they did so successfully.

 The following year the great tits decided it was their turn in the box and the same thing happened; I saw a flock of juvenile great tits on the feeders and made the assumption that they had come from our box. Elsewhere in the garden, a female blackbird had decided the hedge next to our kitchen was the perfect place to build her nest, and I spent many moments at the window watching her return with her beak stuffed with twigs and moss. She laid three eggs which all hatched, but sadly, the day after, they had disappeared from the nest. I put this down to either corvids or woodpeckers. In a separate bush at the same time, long-tailed tits built themselves an impressive ball of feathers, moss, horse hair and lichen. Unfortunately this didn't even see eggs as it was destroyed by a predator of some form before the family returned to lay any.


I explored quite a bit of the woodland surrounding our old house where I had some close encounters with roe deer on several occasions. The first one was with a doe and her very young fawn, so young it still had its spots. I remember holding my breath and not moving a muscle from where I was stood, while my heart beat wildly in excitement. We frequently had deer crossing in front of the house too and so I was often able to watch them from the front garden. I always felt grateful to be so close to such beautiful animals in the wild and still do.

I also built a mini wildlife pond not long after we first moved in. I would have loved to construct a full-sized one with plants but the house (and garden) were rented so that wasn't an option. It didn't seem to bother the local amphibians that my pond was only small; I had both toads and frogs frequent it right up until the last few weeks, when there were two resident frogs living under the pile of rocks surrounding it. 


It's actually quite difficult to look back on three years worth of experiences and remember each and every one in perfect detail. The big ones have stuck with me, naturally, but there were others that would have just become blurry in my memory if I hadn't have blogged about them. I'm definitely going to be better with recording what I see, hear etc. if only so that when I move away from this patch eventually, I'll be able to look back as I'm doing now and recall everything over and over.

The feeling of leaving was bittersweet. I was worried that moving to a slightly more suburban area, albeit with a small patch of woodland behind the house, would mean less variety of garden birds. I have absolutely nothing against blue tits and starlings, as many of you will know from this article I wrote back in October , but I knew I would miss seeing the nuthatch and woodpeckers especially! 

It turns out I didn't need to worry. The first bird I spotted after moving in was a goldcrest! And not a goldcrest in the distance through bins. Nope, this was in a small tree in our neighbours front garden, about 6ft from our window. I took that to be a good sign. Since then we've had goldfinches and long-tailed tits on the feeders, a song thrush in the front garden and two great-spotted woodpeckers fly over, chuck-chucking as they went. It's looking like this patch won't be letting me down any time soon.

Friday, 26 June 2015

30 Days Wild Day 24-26: Close Encounters of the Deer Kind

I'm a little behind on my blogging but only because I have yet to figure out a way of slowing down/pausing time so that I can fit everything in! I also can't quite believe we have nearly reached the end of June and therefore the end of 30 Days Wild; just four more random acts of wildness left.

On Wednesday, day 24, I was working on commission work again, as I quite often am. As much as I have tried to in the past, I am unable to work outside as I draw my portraits from a tablet and it's just too bright even in the shade for me to see the details I need on the screen. So I more or less spent the day indoors. 

Before bed, I caught up on some of the book I've been reading recently called "The Fate of The Species" by Fred Guterl. It's a very thought-provoking read about the state of the planet and the various ways we could be pushing ourselves to extinction. Hypothetical scenarios based on scientific research. I'm certainly finding it interesting but also quite depressing when I consider just what sort of state we are leaving Earth in for future generations. We may not see a mass extinction of our species in this lifetime, or the next, but it's definitely on the cards; it's just a case of what will be the tipping point. 

Day 25 was full of surprise encounters involving no planning of mine whatsoever. We had to take a trip into Horsham town centre in search of various items and the car park was busy so we ended up parking on the top storey, open to the elements. Within moments of leaving the car, I noticed a flock of house martins swooping just above us, presumably catching insects. I know they nest in East Street so they weren't too far from home and it was, as always, a lovely treat to see them. 

Back at home, after having only seen a handful of butterflies so far this year, a flutter of colour caught my eye through the kitchen window. I ventured out for further investigation to see a meadow brown resting on one of our bushes. The really exciting moment came later in the evening though. By pure chance, I happened to be stood in our front garden, watching a flock of thrushes rattling between the trees through my bins. I focused further out, across the big lawn of the main house, and spotted a roe deer. I watched her for some time as she moved nearer and nearer our garden and after a few moments, I noticed a much smaller deer just behind her: a very young fawn. He seemed full of energy, bounding around after his mother and it made me wonder whether it was his first trip out.


 I stayed as still and quiet as I could while simultaneously trying to get a few photos-no easy task! The pair moved even closer to me and I realised they were going to cross right in front of me, mere feet away. I could feel my heart beating harder and I think I might have gasped as the beautiful doe and her fawn clip-clopped slowly and casually across the driveway; the only thing separating them from me was a waist-high hedge. I could see the adult's eyelashes. Now, this might sound utterly ridiculous to some of you, but I'm hoping the rest of you will be able to appreciate how I felt. Any close encounter with a wild animal is special, no matter how boring some might consider them.


I was actually quite pleased that, for once, they didn't catch my scent or see me, and bolt. It was a moment to be savoured.

I spent today in Eastbourne with my mum. We went to see the semi-finals of the Aegon International tennis which was the first time we've seen live tennis and was such a fantastic experience. It didn't stop me noticing the wildlife though. When we stopped to get cash out in Southwater, a flock of swifts were swooping across the square, screaming and twisting around after insects, much like the house martins on Wednesday. Later in the day, during the matches, I saw several house martins doing the same above the court. I'm also fairly certain I saw a peregrine fly past with prey in its talons but it was too tricky to keep one eye on that and the other on the match!

After getting cash, we were travelling on the A272 and a gliding figure caught my eye. The sun caught some pale feathers under the expansive wings and my first thought was buzzard, but the second I saw a forked tail, I knew I was looking at a red kite. It was relatively low too, so I got a good view of it and for a change, I wasn't driving when I saw one!

I do so love the more unexpected sightings of wildlife. It's like nature's way of reminding us that it's still there, no matter where you are or what you're doing.