Slow Worms and Wild Goats - what a cocktail!

It was a cold old day, the coldest for at least three weeks, and the central heating had been switched into hibernation over the Easter heatwave. Warm drinks, a down jacket fit for the Arctic and hot soup for lunch kept the chill away.

Dull skies didn’t make the idea of an afternoon walk any more appealing but Molly (dog) is a stickler for routine and her exercise. Within minutes of entering the reserve we were both as warm as toast; me with hat and gloves and Molly chasing the Frisbee.

Half way round I saw a slow worm’s nose retreat beneath a boulder. I couldn’t resist a peek and lifted it; I shouldn’t have done that. There was a family of at least five and my rude interruption caused them to slowly (it was cold!) retreat to the far edge of the boulder which was resting on the ground. I couldn’t just release the rock for fear of squashing them, so I wedged it up, placed some flat stones beneath and backfilled with dead bracken and leaves. Hopefully they will be alright but I feel bad that I disturbed them.

As you can see from the photo there were cobwebs beneath the boulder and some impressive looking spiders co-existing with the slow worms. I assume slow worms don't eat these spiders. Does anyone know what type of spider? 

A little further on and we bumped into the gang of goats with Supernanny; she’s given birth to twin kids twice in two years. There are now seven in the family with an auntie looking after last year’s kids and an impressive Billy always guarding the rear. This is what they looked like:  

Wildlife Hotspot

Over the summer I’ve been cultivating parts of the veg patch where soil has not seen the light of day since probably WWII. Today I tackled a stony section leading up to the wall and next to one of several compost heaps.  My faithful Molly was almost by my side all day, transfixed by something inside the dry stone walls; the sun was strong and she was panting but even when I went to the house and fetched her a bowl of water, she would not pause her gaze for fear she’d miss the moment.

I was glad she was preoccupied when the earth before me started to move; not an earthquake but a mole whose snout broke surface and quickly retreated. I watched its progress as it tunnelled the few feet to the compost heap. A few minutes later it returned going the other way and the dry crumbly soil above it subsided, briefly revealing the black moleskin boiler suit. I nipped up to the house to get a camera ready for any next appearance.

But alas the mole did not return and I worked my way up the garden removing chunks of a rotten tree stump. As I pulled away at a large bit of root a male slow worm fell onto the bare soil; just as well I had the camera – beautiful.

After lunch, Molly still staring into the wall, I was removing some weeds beside the old tree stump and noticed a lizard in the wall. The camera was recharging up at the house but my mobile phone recorded the moment. And shortly after that, there was another lizard, possibly called Swampy, which stared me down, intent on preserving its homelands.

Taking note of the protest I have decided that this little patch of garden does not need to be cultivated; it obviously has a more noble purpose than food or flower production.