February in Little Linford Wood

For this month's post about Little Linford Wood, you may detect a subtle but significant difference from the photographs taken in January. As reported in yesterday's post, all the wildlife action seemed to be taking part outwith the wood, with a bias towards mammals, rather than birds.

There weren't any picnickers today, in fact, ours was the first vehicle along the track. Can't think why?

Winter has arrived late in these parts and is keen to make up for it. The switch from unseasonably mild to more typically cold will only add to the confusion that has been a constant puzzle for Mother Nature for over a year. As a pollination medium, I doubt that snow is the preferred option for many plants.

Source: Our Lass

Our wander through the wood was to the soundtrack of a steady crump, crump, crump, crump  from our boots and the gentle swish of snow being shed from the branches. We heard the calls of Nuthatch, Marsh Tit and Great Spotted Woodpecker, plus the occasional chack, chack from Fieldfare flying overhead.

Whilst there was no more snow forecast to fall, the sky had that heavy, glowering feel that makes you think that it's only being held up by the outspread fingers of the bare trees as they strain to support its weight.

The paths and rides were criss-crossed with the tracks made by the creatures of the wood; Fox, Rabbit, Hare, Muntjac deer and Pheasant. Though our attention was drawn to one particular paw print that we weren't expecting to see, Badger.

I've always thought that Badgers hibernate, probably due to reading Kenneth Grahame's 'Wind in the Willows' as a lad, but it turns out that they merely have a winter torpor, as the Badgerland website explains. So I'm guessing that this character was merely nipping out for a quick pee before returning to the sett for some more quality slumber time. Sweet dreams, Brock, me old mate, don't have nightmares. Especially about government-sponsored culls.