Hope Springs

As the world still determinedly heads hellwards, handbasket-wise, who’s for a small amount of good news? I was cheered to learn yesterday that pine martens had been spotted fairly locally. Pine martens, as well as being desperately cute, also prey on grey squirrels (red squirrels can evade them being lighter and quicker) and have been credited with helping keep the reds going up in the Highlands where they are still reasonably numerous. Given that we have seen grey squirrels twice in our garden since we moved in, we’re clearly on the frontline here, and having a little cute furry help* to beat back the greys would be welcome. As well as pretty damn cool.

Although we have managed to get some video footage of pine martens before, they’re a bit too fly to be photographed easily even by the super-skilled photographer friend who spotted them, so you’ll have to make do with the equally hopeful but quite a bit more stationary daffodils which appear to be coming up in the garden.

emerging daffodils

Watch this space

*I assume that all of you who got a bit squeamish about us doing away with the greys last time don’t mind them being done in by other animals … nature red in tooth and claw, and all that.

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4 Responses to Hope Springs

  1. Peter S says:

    I presume your reference to hell stems from your feelings about Brexit and Trump. Don’t forget that a lot of people voted for both, and as far as they’re concerned, they’re both things to be optimistic about. Personally I don’t think Trump is doing much good in the world, but I also don’t think he’ll be around all that long, at the rate he’s going. There’s always a lot to be optimistic about in the world, and a lot to be negative about. This year doesn’t strike me as all that different. Bemoaning the state of affairs surely only adds to the negativity.

  2. disgruntled says:

    You presume a lot Peter, but with a climate change denier in the White House and our changes of keeping average temperature rises below 2 degrees now fairly slim, that’s a good a working definition of going to hell in a handbasket as I can come up with. And besides, I may have misread my audience, in which case I apologise, but I imagine that the intersection between those who read the personal blog of a leftwing, vegetable-growing feminist cycle campaigner in Scotland who is married to an immigrant and those who are optimistic about Trump is probably quite small.

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