From Ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggety beasties
And things that go bump in the night,
Good Lord, deliver us!

The night has always been an alien world to us. We flood it with light and pretend that it is really the same as the day, but in the end we fool no one as we retreat inside each evening, draw the curtains and shut it out. Whilst we watch the latest episode of our favourite soap on television or e-mail Aunt Jane in Australia, our gardens await the wildlife night-shift. Some of these, such as slugs, snails and even mice, may indicate the route they have taken by the tell-tale signs of devastation they leave behind, but other animals, such as hedgehogs, leave few clues as to their night-time wanderings. For most of us though, the chance of seeing a live hedgehog is as likely as a dot.com company making a profit. This invisibility' makes hedgehogs vulnerable to many of our gardening practices.

So, how can we make our gardens more hedgehog-friendly? Hedgehogs are very inquisitive creatures and together with being able climbers and having poor eyesight, this means that they have a knack of getting themselves into all sorts of trouble. If you have a hole in your garden, you can almost guarantee a visiting hedgehog will fall into it. This in itself doesn't usually prove to be a problem, as their spines will cushion them from any injuries and they are also excellent swimmers if they find themselves in water. The trouble arises when the hole is steep-sided and the hedgehog can't get out. The classic hedgehog pitfall-trap is the cattle grid and each year, hundreds are caught in these and unable to climb out, starve to death. Now we may not think we have any steep-sided holes in our garden, but they don't have to be size of Quatermass' pit to ensnare these animals. Hedgehogs have been known to get themselves stuck in breeze blocks and how many of us, at one time or another, have had a large open hole in the garden whilst making a pond, or had a dog loo with its lid blown off, or perhaps drains being repaired? Maybe we even have swimming pools or steep-sided ornamental ponds in our gardens? All these have been known to trap, and ultimately kill, hedgehogs. The problem can be solved quite simply. At night, holes should be covered over securely, or if that is impossible, then something like chicken wire can be draped over the side, which will allow any trapped animals to scramble out. You can also run an eye over the steep-sided holes the utility companies make in the roads and pavements - and there seems to be plenty of them being dug these days, to see if any animals have become trapped inside.

Hedgehogs are welcome visitors to our gardens because of the excellent job they do eating slugs and snails. Unfortunately though, our gardens also create a number of undesirable situations for them. To the slug, our vegetable plot may well resemble a gourmet restaurant, but in turn, these gastropods will lure any wandering hedgehogs. If we use nets to keep birds off our crops, these may, unless they are kept tight and any loose ends tucked under stones, trap a visiting hedgehog searching for its supper. Getting caught in loose, discarded or badly stored netting and wire is a common cause of injury to these animals. However, it is not only in the vegetable garden that hedgehogs get entangled in nets. Tennis and children's football nets are also a hazard and should be rolled-up off the ground at night. Another problem lies in the slug pellets we liberally sprinkle around our plants. The pellets, many of which are coloured blue to dissuade birds from eating them, are supposed to have a substance added that makes them taste nauseating to hedgehogs, but hedgehogs poisoned by pellets still turn up in large numbers at wildlife hospitals. Why? The answer probably lies in the animals eating dying slugs which have been poisoned, so please, dispose of these on a daily basis. Pellets should only be scattered lightly on the ground and ideally, put under stones where birds, hedgehogs or for that matter children, can't get at them. Hedgehogs need a place to rest in the day time, which is generally under a pile of leaves or in a bramble thicket. I once had a hedgehog that regularly slept in my daffodil patch and was completely hidden from view by the tangle of leaves. They may also consider our compost heaps, leaf piles, sacks of potting compost or even bags of rubbish provide a safe hideaway. It is important then, if sacks of compost or rubbish are stored outside, to keep them firmly tied and if they do show signs of having been opened, you should make sure there isn't a sleeping hedgehog inside.

The same goes for compost heaps or bonfires: you should always check before moving or burning them. Likewise, look to see if any overgrown scrub or a clump of pampas grass - a favourite daytime nesting place, has a hedgehog snuggled within before cutting it back. A long-handled broom is useful for pushing aside and checking any long grass, which also helps prevent accidentally killing frogs and other animals that might be hiding in it. Strimmers are especially dangerous and together with lawn mowers, they are rapidly taking over from dogs and cars as the main cause of injury and death to these animals.

For me, nothing typifies our ambivalent attitude towards hedgehogs more than the wooden hedgehog houses' that have become commercially available over the last few years. On the one hand, we are quite happy to buy these nice little homes that don't make the garden look untidy which will encourage hedgehogs to come into the garden and chomp their way through all the slugs and snails they can find. On the other hand though, we still use slug pellets which poison the animals, bin or burn any errant leaf and cut down every patch of long grass so they no longer have a wild corner to make their nest. The animal is in danger of becoming a mere accessory, with it's own designer box in a garden planned to accentuate the best features of a house. For hedgehogs to thrive in our gardens, they need more than a special house, however nice it might look, they need us to take just a little more care over our gardening practices. Isn't it better to have a live visitor, even if we rarely see it, rather than a dead and very visible corpse?

Jack Daw

Buzzards are back

One evening in 1950 the 'phone rang - "Evening Alan, Ted here. I wonder if you could meet me at Grimbocar Wood and climb up to a buzzard's nest and fetch the eggs down for me? I thought it was a crow nest and it was only when I'd shot the bird and she flew off that I realised that it was a buzzard". When I looked up at the immense nest I thought: "You're a liar Ted, you knew it was buzzard!" Even in those days the killing of buzzards was illegal, but if I had informed the Police -

(a) Ted would never have fed me information about his local birds again,
(b) he would still have gone on shooting raptors.

Ted Peat was the senior gamekeeper in the Derwent/Ladybower area and a Special Constable. Like most gamekeepers of his time, he thought that he was doing his job. During the late 50s and early 60s the disappearance of buzzards from the Peak District coincided with myximatosis in rabbits. But now they have returned.

I first noticed their return in 1998 when my walking friends and I were sitting having our elevenses while ascending to Stanton Moor. We were sitting on a stone seat which coincided perfectly with the car being parked in Rowsley. Incidentally I have often wondered who may have had the seat built, surrounded as it is by a semi-circular wall. Was it a long-forgotten Duke of Rutland who liked to sit here and survey his beloved Haddon Hall? We spotted a buzzard being mobbed by a carrion crow. Every lunge by the crow was effortlessly dodged as the buzzard side-slipped at the right moment, making its attacker look very inept. The display continued for 15 minutes or so until the buzzard had vacated the crow's territory. In the summer of 1999 my friends and I were walking through Monsal Dale, having started at the White Lodge car park, when we counted at least a hundred rabbits on one of the flat areas. There must have been at least twelve jet black bunnies - the melanistic variation. A month later we took the same walk and looked up into the sky as we heard the harsh cries of jackdaws. They were mobbing a buzzard. A fortnight later one of my walking friends saw a pair soaring over Chatsworth. The buzzard's flight is beautiful to watch - a few lazy flaps of its wings will be followed by a long soaring glide, then two or three more flaps. Then the bird will make a wide circle before resuming its glide; if the sun is shining it is then when you obtain your best view - revealing the variations in pale fawns and browns of the underside of its wings.

When I have been touring Scotland I have talked to many people who have told me that they have seen a golden eagle. This is most unlikely, because one has to be up one of the remote glens to see Britain's most magnificent bird. Most people will have seen a buzzard. Both species are very much alike when in flight and only an experienced bird watcher will know the difference. Size is very misleading when a bird is in flight. Last year there were 40 recorded buzzard nests in Derbyshire. Long may buzzards fly the skies of our Peak District.

Alan Faulkner Taylor

Farming Notes

If ever there was a species that demonstrates the triumph of hope over experience it has to be farmers. Before the great BSE crisis of March 22 1997, fatstock prices in Bakewell market were around 130p per kilo. After falling through the floor they are now about 95p per kilo, and showing no sign of improving. But store cattle prices are back to what they were before the crisis.

Not many beef cattle spend their whole lives on one farm. The breeder will sell his calves to a rearer, who sells them on to a grazier who sells them to a finisher. But the total profit in the animal is determined by what the final purchaser, the butcher pays, and that is 30% down on 3 years ago. So why the store buyer, (when they are 6 months old they become stores) is now prepared to pay the same as he did 3 years ago is a mystery.

In the farming side of the business we have a large number of small farmers all buying and selling so there is a true market operating. Many dairy farmers are selling up due to the ever falling price of milk, ( the last dairy farmers in Totley have just sold their herd), and are going in for beef. At this time of year they see the grass growing and think they had better get some beasts to eat it. So off they go to market and bid each other up to what ever it takes to get them. You'll hear onlookers saying "How on Earth are they going to make anything out of them at that price?" But the ultimate end price isn't determined by a true market as it is dominated by a few large buyers, the supermarket chains. They are fond of saying they are in cutthroat competition with each other, which they may or may not be, but that certainly only applies at the consumer end. They do their best to maximise profits by squeezing their suppliers, and when they're dealing with thousands of small farmers, boy do they squeeze! From conception to slaughter takes 3 years to produce a beef animal. From leaving the farm to ending up on the meat counter takes 1 week, but in that week the price triples. There's enough money in the system from what the housewife pays for everyone to make a living, but the farmer isn't getting his fair share. The NFU keeps going to the government and getting more subsidies, but they're self defeating as it only enables the farmer to stay in business by accepting an even lower market price, so his total return is no better. As the shop price remains the same it just means the taxpayer is being ripped off, and the only beneficiary is the retailer.

The real sickener this year has been the demise of Milk Marque. When the Milk Marketing Board was wound up for political reasons a surprising number of farmers joined it's voluntary successor, Milk Marque, which was a cooperative buying agent that could deal with the large dairy companies from a position of strength. But they appealed to the monopoly commission on the grounds that it was forcing up the milk price to the consumer, and won. Hollow laughter all round. Milk Marque has now been broken up into 3 parts. Look out for Milk Tankers with Zenith logo's. Government is forever telling farmers to form cooperatives, but doesn't want them to be strong enough to do any good. It's a massive kick in the teeth, and dairy farmers are packing it in droves.

There are some very creditable local efforts trying to increase returns. There are farmers markets at Whirlow, and the Liberty shop in Totley selling home produced meat from Broadstorth, but these enterprises can only ever be tiny. The vast amount of food has to be sold through the wholesale and retail system and it's the balance of that and farming that's become badly distorted.

On a lighter note, I hesitate to take issue with Alan Faulkner Taylor, but in a recent Totley Independent he wrote of his surprise at seeing two herons at The Avenue Farm. He said they are a solitary bird and rarely congregate. All I can say is that for a great many years we have had a regular flock of Herons at Ryecroft Farm. They come in October, about 10 of them, and hang around until May, when they depart, apart from the odd one that will stay all summer. They just spend the daytime with us, arriving at daybreak and leaving at dusk. They don't seem to feed or do anything in the day, just sit around under the hedge looking miserable. I once saw a fox walking up the field towards one of the herons. It was ambling along in a straight line towards the heron, and the heron just stood there looking at it. I thought this is ridiculous, the fox will eat it, why doesn't it fly away. The fox carried on towards the heron, and the heron carried on looking at the fox. The fox got to within a yard of the heron and then the heron suddenly stood straight up and opened it's wings out wide. The fox stopped dead with surprise, and then walked round the heron and carried on, and the heron went back to it's hunched up state and completely ignored the fox. I thought "Why don't hens do that?!"

Richard Farnsworth

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