Bill's Blog - September 5th
NEWS OF THE WILD

UNNATURAL URGES

I have a small dilemma (ooh missus!). The title of this blog - News of the Wild - is of course a deft and ironic reference to a recently defunct Sunday newspaper famed for featuring smut and scandal undiluted by accuracy or truth. It rarely covered wildlife or the environment. Hence the irony. However, as I hinted in last month’s blog (still available on archive) I am developing a tendancy to become more diversified myself. To put it bluntly, less wild and more news, whatever the topic. I confess I feel a bit as if I am rejecting the religious in favour of the secular, but it’s a decision brought about by two things: firstly, I now have my very own page each month in the unarguably authoritative and sumptuously illustrated magazine, BBC Wildlife, which  satisfies my ‘natural urges', as it were. Secondly, I feel justified in making this and future blogs as random, as frivolous or as contentious as I like. Hence, my dilemma is should I now call it News of the World?! Am I allowed to? Or would I be in trouble with Rupert Murdoch? Actually, he might well be grateful to me for taking the name off his hands. But then I’d probably get investigated for phone tapping. I think I’ll stick with News of the Wild. A propos of which…

DIG

I have been conducting a little Grey Squirrel experiment. Don’t worry, nothing unpleasant. We all know that Grey Squirrels (and Red ones) gather up acorns at this time of the year and then bury them all over the place – especially on my lawn - so that if the winter gets harsh and food gets short, they can dig up their hidden stash. I am sure all of us have wondered whether or not they are clever enough to remember exactly where the acorns are buried, or do they just scamper around digging more holes until they get lucky? The answer is ‘no’ and ‘yes.’ No, they don’t remember, and yes, it’s just pot luck if they find any acorns, which is why they bury so many. 

LOVELY ACORNS

Nevertheless, I have to agree it is a pretty enterprising strategy which benefits many hungry squirrels, and plants a few new oak trees at the same time. Which brings me to my experiment. The nearest oak tree to my house is about half a mile away, and to get to and from it entails crossing two or three busy roads, whether you are a human or a rodent. I decided to make life easier for my garden squirrels. Thus, I returned from my morning saunter on Hampstead Heath having collected a bulging pocketful of acorns. I went out into the back garden – causing two squirrels to panic and fall off the bird feeders – and I placed the acorns carefully and conspicuously on a dilapidated bird table that I have not thrown away in case it comes in handy for scientific experiments, like this one. I uttered a lilting cry, such as was once used by cockney street vendors: “Get your lovely acorns. Sweet and succulent, straight from the oak tree!”

TAILS A TWITCHING

Even as I retreated indoors, there were two curious squirrels peering over the garden fence with tails a twitching. I peeped out through the back window. Squirrels on the fence. Acorns on the table. How long would it be before they descended on their personally delivered breakfast?

I waited half an hour. Squirrels on bird feeders. Acorns still on table. I went up to my office and did a couple of hours writing. I came down again and looked out of the back window. Squirrels gone. Acorns hadn’t. I went outside and counted them. 35. One more than I put out! I recounted. 34. OK, the same as I put out. Later in the day there were still 34.

As dusk fell, the same.

Next morning: 3 squirrels now, but still 34 acorns.

Two days later, and the pile appeared still intact, though my count revealed that two acorns were missing. I found them on the floor.

REPUGNANT

This morning, after 4 days, about half of the acorns have gone, been disturbed, or in some cases slightly nibbled. I suspect Jays. So what do I deduce from this experiment? That Grey Squirrels  don’t like acorns at all? Indeed, the very aroma of them is so repugnant  that they bury them rather than tolerate it. Only as a very last resort, in winters when starvation is nigh, will they dig them up and endure the ghastly taste of emergency rations.

Or is it that Grey Squirrels prefer good quality bird food? I could help them there!

MARKETING PLOY?

Talking of bird food. I was in my local garden centre the other day when I happened to accidentally peruse the range of bird foods produced by a company whose brand name shall remain unrevealed, but wasn’t Haiths or me. What caught my eye was the fact that nearly everyone of a large number of bags bore a picture of a different species and that the claim on the bag was that the food therein would attract the species depicted. There was a specific food for Robin, Blackbird, Song Thrush, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Goldfinch, “finch”, Swan and duck (what happened to Goose?) and Sparrow (meant to be House Sparrow but the picture was of a Dunnock). Now, I am not insinuating that this is some kind of marketing ploy, and certainly not that the product is below par, but  let me assure you you don’t have to purchase a dozen or more different foods to attract a good selection of birds. There are certain groups, ground feeders, seed eaters, soft food eaters, but beyond that, put it this way: Blackbirds, Song Thrushes and Robins have much the same tastes. As do Green and Chaffinches, and so on.

Of course, the Grey Squirrels will eat anything that isn’t meant for them!

DONE IT AGAIN

Well, I’ve done it again! I allude to a blog full of laughter and lasciviousness and end up writing about garden wildlife. Next time, next time, I promise.

ARE YOU SITTING COMFORTABLY?

But before I migrate south for a few days in the Isles of Scilly… The other morning I was having brekky in out local tea room. At a nearby table a Hampstead mum was reading a Toy Town book to her toddler-aged son. He wasn’t toddling then, he was sitting and listening intently, and I admit so was I. Imagine my surprise when mum showed a picture to the boy and said: “Look, Noddy’s got a Sat Nav!”  Unfortunately, mother and child departed plus the book, and I hadn’t the nerve to call after her: “Noddy’s got a satnav!? Is that true?"

I hurried home not certain which was shocking me most, that Noddy‘s car had had a 21st century makeover, or that I’d started  hearing voices about updating children's stories. As luck would have it, my wife Laura writes for children’s television. She would not only know about such modernisations, but may even be responsible for some of them.