Never mind kittens, internet: when it comes to cute, baby weasels is where it’s at. We were cycling back from our latest five-go-mad-on-bikes adventure (one hour cycling, one hour putting the world to rights at the top of the hill, five mins descending) when we saw the unmistakable shape of a weasel … no make that two weasels … on the road in front of us. Normally that’s all the sight you get of a weasel: something like an animated clockwork bookmark scuttling across the road in front of you. But these weasels seemed unusually indecisive – heading across the road and then stopping half way, dithering, comedically colliding with each other and then heading back – and when we got to the spot where we’d seen them we realised why. Sticking up out of the long grass on the verge where they’d finally dived for cover were two baby weasels, having a good look at us as we had a good look at them (this is the reason why I always make a point of forgetting my camera on these trips. Such things never happen when I’ve got it with me). Then they disappeared, but they weren’t gone because the verge was ringing with the sound of their calls to each other and every so often another head popped up just to check we were still there. The noise they make is lovely and musical and utterly enchanting, somewhere between a chirrup and an purr and we stood there for a good five minutes before we reluctantly got on our bikes and left them to their verge.
It’s yet another reason why cycling beats the heck out of driving in a car. And speaking of cars, I hope they learn their green cross code soon. That sort of dithering in the middle of the road does not bode well for their longevity.