Tracks and Signs...

While the heavy snows continue, I thought I'd mention something that's been playing in the back of my mind for a while now; tracking birds and animals.



I've been fortunate enough to witness this first hand on safari in Africa, and at that level, it has to be seen to be believed. From a mishmash of muddy bore holes across a rutted game drive and into semi arid desertland, one Zulu tracker I was with insisted we follow him as he had found the tracks of white rhino.



The ground looked more like the results of a weekend off-roading session to me, but we demurred and followed his expertise. To cut a long story short, we ended up tracking the rhino - after a while, he insisted there were actually three - for over an hour, in the end believing we were being led on a wild rhino chase.



But we found them alright on the plains, three of them as predicted. With sundowners over a crackling fire that night, our tracker murmured that he could have told us their age and sex too -but knew we wouldn't have believed him.



Youngsters in the African bush begin their learning in this incredible art by tracking insects and continue to move up into the bigger - and more toothsome - varieties of game. The very best trackers are highly sought after to lead safaris for paying guests.



But tracking of wild birds and animals is very possible here in the UK too, and it's something I've had more than a passing interest in for some time. I intend to study it some more following the sighting of some excellent tracks in the snow and will be returning to the subject on my blog, but thought I'd let you in on some excellent correlating blogs I've found during my research.



Check out this fine effort: http://www.woodlife.co.uk/ Pablo is passionate about his wildlife and it shows. Well worth a half hour with a cup of tea.



This too, really whets the appetite to learn more: http://www.naturestrails.co.uk/
The standard of these blogs amazes me, to be honest.



I will be studying these sites and more and will report back. In the meantime, I have got hold of an amazing book that deals solely with the tracking of birds in Britain and Europe, part of the series of Helm identification guides. To say it is comprehensive is like saying Pele can play a bit. Check it out.

Where have all the icicles gone?

I took this picture of a frosted web outside the house this morning after the freeze returned overnight with a vengeance. Is it me, or is this the first time that we've had a proper winter for many a year?

Forgive me for sounding like a pompous old so and so, but in my day, we had proper winters every year; frosts were virtually nightly and would set in for weeks at a time and you could guarantee a generous fall of snow at least once - and that meant the glory of a day off school.

A snowy day off school is a lifetime treasure, something to wear close to your heart to keep you warm when times are hard. My snowy school skives are among my fondest childhood memories.


They began with that strange glow in the room when you awake, an unusual brightness that burns like halogen behind the curtains. And then - when you open them!

Blinding glare from behind the frosted pane and a world that was drab and commonplace last night transformed into a playground of infinite adventure. The best bit of all, when Dad came in to say, with mock gravity, "I'm sorry kids - I don't think we will make it to school today." Such unadulterated joy has seldom, if ever, been replicated in adulthood.

But I digress. Winters were, as I say, more reliable then, and the other day I had a revelatory thought. When was the last time I saw an icicle?

They seemed to be everywhere in the rosy memories of youthful winters; hanging from the stable eaves, glass daggers that Dad had to remove with a broom in case - in my fevered imagination - they would descend like a flashing blade and plunge into you from above.

They hung heavily from the trees on occasion, refracting light in remarkable rainbows. Standpipes built great thick crusts of them, growing and shrinking almost visibly throughout the day and night.

But I can't remember the last time I saw an icicle. Can you?