I have had a fascination with badgers for as long as I can remember. I am fairly sure this stems from their representation in popular culture, even though not always for the good. Growing up, I was always a fan of the character Badger in - The Animals of Farthing Wood, often attempting to draw him and his fellow companions rather inexpertly, and the much maligned Tommy Brock in Beatrix Potter’s - The Tale of Mr Tod. There was just something about them, even aside from their striking black and white stripes. Some aspects that maybe I envied a little; the inhabiting of cozy underground homes, the secretiveness. My dad once took me to a private woodland where he worked on site, when I was very young. I didn’t see any badgers per se, but the sett and signs of these bashful brocks was more than enough to captivate the imagination for a lifetime.
Living in a predominantly urban area for most of my life, I have rarely had the opportunity to observe badgers. Earlier this year I watched Natural World: Badgers - Secrets of the Sett, which (not that I really needed it) massively rekindled my desire to get close to the iconic Meles meles. The program offered insight into the lives and tribulations of badgers that I had never really seen before, with cameras set up in various chambers down in the featured sett. With the lockdown situation, and my place of work being closed to the public still at this point, I was able to use this time wisely, being fully propelled into spending several nights surveying the marvellous mammalian in question.
On a patch where I was aware of several sett locations to choose from, I headed out with binoculars, camera, tea and snacks in tow. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t previously put out a few handfuls of peanuts around the badgers’ local area in anticipation of getting a good glimpse of Tommy and Co. This was early May, and around this time badger cubs are seen venturing out into the world above them for the first time. They are usually born in February, and spend much of early to mid-April exploring their network of tunnels, edging ever closer to the surface. This was certainly what I was after. This time I wasn’t particularly interested in photography, I just wanted to have the chance of witnessing the cubs and to be able to monitor both their habits and prompted predisposition for peanuts. I settled myself down on a tree stump (never again) in close proximity to the chosen sett.
I waited purposely, thinking that the peanuts would have tempted them into an early awakening from their springtime slumber. Dusk was beginning to cascade on the deciduous, broad-leaved woodland which I dwelled in, with a few beams of light still clinging on through the beech foliage. At this point, something caught my eye to the right, adjacent to the tree line. The unmistakable auburn red silhouette of an adult fox trotting by. The only foxes I tend to see these days seems to be urban scavengers. So this was a real added bonus. The lighting was perfect, instantly regretting my mantra of let’s not bother having the camera at the ready tonight. Still no apparent indications of a badger snuffle session however.
The beech woodland, early evening.
I was thinking back to a time recently where I had set up a camera trap with one of my colleagues, at a badger set in a coniferous wood. We had decided to splodge a little honey (local and organic I may add) a couple of feet up onto a Corsican pine. It produced several video clips of a boar badger with a sincere sweet tooth. Six hours this guy slurped at that same tree, throughout regular intervals until 3am. A perspicuous reminder of how fun it can be to watch these animals and what they provide us with. Perhaps honey should have been my go to temptation treat for tonight, rather than the peanuts.
I had been hankered down for around and our and a half when I heard something crashing through the undergrowth some three or four metres behind me. Somehow, after all the waiting I had missed a boar leaving the sett, and circling round behind me. He hurtled through the brambles and ferns with a one track mind for something. I suspected he was on a scouting mission in the immediate area surrounding the sett, to ensure it was safe for the cubs to have an evening foray. At least, thats what I had hoped.
Thankfully, I was right! It wasn’t long until a mother sow emerged with another female. Keeping tight to her flank, was an incredibly winsome little cub. Badgers live in complex and very close, family knit groups. Another reason to love this beautiful animal, if ever you needed one.
This was one of those real slap in the face nature moments for me, an abrupt reminder of that deep connection we can have with the natural world and it’s inhabitants. If only we opened out eyes to it more often.
Badgers have very poor eyesight, so as long as you are not sitting downwind of them, they can come fairly close to you without even realising you’re there. A good indicator of badger cub presence is if there are active latrines close by to the sett exits. Badgers are very clean housekeepers so will usually dig shallow latrines for their business away from their home. But a new mother will never journey far when with cubs, so will use an alternate latrine nearby, thus signalling that cubs are almost certainly downstairs. On the subject of cleanliness, badgers are renowned for replacing their bedding on a regular basis, whether it be with dry grass, moss, bracken or leaves. Rumour has it that they will pilfer hay from a farmer’s field in aid of a new mattress, although I am sure such an endearing animal would never partake in such an unruly act.
A night out for mother and cub.
The cub remained by its mothers side for the duration as it spent quality time honing the foraging skills passed down from its family group. Occasionally it would stray and snuffle a little further out, but always under the watchful eyes (or more likely, nose) of its mother. I witnessed a beautiful moment where the sow lay down flat on her belly and closed her eyes. The cub playfully clambering on top of her, pleading for attention. It was almost as if the mother was playing dead, desperately trying to get a minutes peace. A sentiment that I am sure many parents reading this, can all too well relate.
I was aware of a nearby tawny owl nest, occupied at this time by two chicks. As I had been watching the badgers, almost every hour the two parents would swoop in with a vole or two to silence hungry mouths. They were becoming more and more active, so I decided it was a good time to leave the expedition there. Tawny’s will be far more aware of a territorial intruder than an unsuspecting badger, and females can be incredibly protective of their young. Another night spent in complete awe of our native wildlife.
As summer arrived this year, we bore witness to some gloriously long spells of sun with very little rain. Whilst this has been celebrated by many, it can unfortunately spell bad news and worrying times for many badgers and fellow wildlife. For badgers, it diminishes their food source considerably. Without rain, the conditions are inadequate for invertebrates and other food sources to thrive, creating a domino effect. July and August generated concern for us rangers as we noticed at one particular sett, badger cubs were wandering above ground in the afternoon. An obvious sign of a struggle for food, needing to spend more time searching for sustenance. It is never a simple decision when faced with the choice of interfering with the process of nature. Helping one species can potentially have a detrimental effect on others. In this case however, we decided to intervene.
In the upcoming days, every afternoon before I finished for the day I would leave out some suitable snacks for the badgers, hoping it would see them through the adversity. As I sat on the sett boundary, I realised I could get a little closer to them each time. Perhaps it was a building of trust? Maybe they were recognising the scent? Or perhaps they were just overly-fond of a sausage roll. Frankly, who could blame them. When exploring wild habitats, it is important not to intrude on an animal too much. I always have at the back of my mind; respect the animal, and they will inadvertently respect you.
It wasn’t long until not just the cubs were making an appearance at snack time, but a variety of other family members. This intervention of supplementary feeding proved to be a success. Quite quickly, as I reduced the frequency of visits, they started awakening each day later and later until eventually they only were seen after sunset, just as it should be. Being given the opportunity to watch badgers on a daily basis was truly wonderful. I am always grateful for these dazzling encounters, although the latter proved a stark reminder of the fine line between winning and losing in nature.
It’s not all Beatrix-Potteresque out there in the wild, but if we can take a moment to read the signs around us and look out more for our brilliant wildlife, then we just might find that more often than not, we ourselves are winning.