A Year in the Woods: The Diary of a Forest Ranger
Colin Elford
Language: English
Pages: 96
ISBN: B00IJ0GWTQ
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Colin Elford spends his days alone - alone but for the deer, the squirrels, the rabbits, the birds and the many other creatures inhabiting the woods. From the crisp coldness of January, through the excitement of spring and the warmth of summer, and back into the dampness of the autumn and the chill winds of winter, we accompany the forest ranger as he goes about his work - stalking in the early-morning darkness, putting an injured fallow buck out of its misery, watching stoats kill a hare, observing owls, and simply enjoying the outdoors. "A Year in the Woods" is an invigorating look at nature through a forest ranger's eyes and an enthralling journey deep into the woods. It includes a delightful 'Preamble' by Craig Taylor.
first cuckoo, but sitting in a high seat for several hours listening to the constant clamour of a group of them can drive you nuts. And although I love the cries of the buzzards soaring high on the thermals, the continual calling from chick to parent can also fray your nerves. Today I have one of those unreal experiences that make you pinch yourself to check you’re awake because you can’t believe what you’re seeing. I am with another stalking client, and we are walking with our rifles on our
sun, I struggle to view anything in the dense, shadowy branches. Strange indeed. I trace the sound to an area tight to the main trunk of the oak. Luckily, today the breeze is stronger and higher in the tree and a sudden sharp gust helps uncover the source: a very anxious-looking jay. Its body language indicates it is fearful, nervous; it obviously knows I am here and would normally have flown off, but something, hidden from me, is keeping it there. Jays prefer to avoid contact with man, always
constant murmur of the wind in the pines. Flying lower, the crow is joined by its mate and the pair drop low in a dizzy dive. They are obviously chasing something, and when they pass me at head level I see the familiar shape of a tawny owl, with its rounded wings. It does its best to lose its antagonists. Bobbing and swerving, the owl heads over some young pine. While one crow carries on the chase, the other soars skywards, then suddenly and violently stoops at the tawny; the owl crumples like an
the location where the buzzard attacked. Although I check for a nest site locally, I find nothing. A hungry buzzard may make a mistake once, but twice is surprising. I can only think that the adult bird had mistaken the jogger’s hair for some sort of prey. Another mystery in nature known only to wildlife itself, with man, as always, left in the dark. June is the peak time for squirrel damage, when, for reasons known only to them, they cannot resist stripping the bark off the good-quality
distance between me and it, the deer pauses and glances back. Between its ears is a poor display of antlers, and my mind automatically files this buck away as one to take out another day. Having already shot two fallow that morning, I allow myself enough time for observance, conditioning myself to learn from the species. The buck moves slightly, giving me a broadside view, but stops in an unsafe position. I keep my rifle on my shoulder and carry on the viewing I am enjoying. And I learn a